Rolf Potts's Blog, page 74

Vagabonding Field Report: disappointment on the path to Machu Picchu

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

 

Cost: $130/day!

 

What’s the strangest thing you’ve seen lately?

 

Diminutive, lean, weather-worn, mountain men carry immense packs stuffed with tents, cooking implements, sleeping bags and the like for tourists making the three and a half day trek along the official Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. These are the Chaski’s.  They charge up and down the mountains in ragged leather sandals, past lines of tourists with expensive hiking boots and tiny day packs. Strict regulations impose a weight limit of 20kg (44lb) per porter, but in the past they carried dangerously heavy loads. Their high altitude conditioning is in some ways as impressive as the ruins at the end of the path.

A curious lama along the way

 

Describe a typical day.

 

Get up and eat some fruit and scrambled egg variation in the communal tent. Start walking. Admire a set of ruins that appear to teeter precariously at the edge of a precipitous drop. Wonder what on earth possessed the Inca to build at such heady heights and marvel at their craftsmanship. Walk some more. Get overtaken by a Chaski with a pack three times the size of mine. Try to catch up to the Chaski to prove my physical prowess. Fail to catch up with him, but convince myself that I’ll catch him later in the day. Day dream about eating jam donut. Get rained on. Walk more. Get a blister. Have lunch in the communal tent. Stare lovingly at the mountains as the sun breaks through the cloud cover. Swear when it starts raining again and a raindrop hits me in the eye. Walk a lot more. Eat a fish dinner with some delicious brown stuff. Sleep well.

 

Describe an interesting conversation with a local

 

Our guide Freddy seemed to take pleasure discussing the dangers on the Inca Trail and told many stories of people who’ve perished along the way. After yet another tale involving a person, who’d slipped to an untimely death, I had a chat to him one on one. I gently informed him that perhaps the trail wasn’t terribly dangerous and that we were in fact walking along a path and not, say, base jumping, for instance.  He seemed somewhat disappointed at first but then conceded that driving in Cuzco is actually far more dangerous than taking a rather long walk.

Macchu Piccu from the sun gate.

 

What do you like about where you are? Dislike?

 

Machu Picchu and the other ruins arond the Inca Trail and Sacred Valley are clearly the draw in this part of the world, and rightly so. The architecture and mysterious history of the Inca is captivating and the heights that the ruins sit at elevates them literally, as well as their element of grandeur and wonder. Overall, however I found the Inca Trail a disappointment for several reasons.

 

I was a touch underwhelmed by the natural spectacle along the trail. The scenery is undoubtedly beautiful in parts with appropriately grand mountains and lush cloud forest, but, at least for me, it was’t the eye popping, heart stopping, emotionally draining beauty that I had built it up to. I shoconceived tempered my expectations. I found the natural beauty in the Northern Andes considerably more striking.

 

Although there is a daily limit of five hundred starting the trail each day certain points along the path get extremely crowded. The human traffic that roles through the campsites and descends on the bathrooms makes for a grim spectacle.

 

The trek was unlike any trek I’ve undertaken in the past in terms of comfort level. The guides and Chaski’s take care of everything. Delicious food is served in the communal tent, tents are set up in camp before you get there and the Chaski’s haul everything eept for the tourists themselves. This may sound like the ideal outdoor adventure to some, however even though I carried own gear, stupid a it may seem, I still felt as if I was somehow cheating.

 

Another pitfall of the official Inca Trail is the expense involved. Pricing for the trek is similar between agencies and tends to cost around $500. This is a hell of a lot of money in Peru. In other, no less beautiful, parts of the country this would pay for a trek of perhaps ten days duration or a couple of technical mountain climbs.

The view from Dead Woman's Pass (Warmiwañusca). This is the highest pint along the trail at 4,215 m (13,829 ft)

Describe a challenge you faced.




Some may find my frustrations with the Inca Trail trivial, however I found it difficult to get past them at times. It was a job to try and forget the money I had spent, my prior trekking experiences, and just try and enjoy the trail for what it is- a beautiful path, full of intriguing ancient history

 

What new lesson did you learn?

 

Sometimes the places you desire to see most are, for better or worse, not what you expected. I’ve realised that, more often that not, unexpected destinations or experiences are what will make a trip. Machu Picchu and the Inca Trail were largely responsible for my decision to come to South America and I’m glad I’ve now visited this part of the world, however I’ve cherished other experiences in Peru more. I may not have ever traveled to the mind boggling Cordillera Blanca in the north or the lovely white city of Arequipa were it not for the draw of Machu Picchu. Perhaps you don’t even need a reason to travel to a place. Just go, experience and enjoy (or hate) whatever comes your way. What do you think? Have you ever been left dissapointed by a destination or travel experience that you felt certain you were going to enjoy? Alternatively, have you thoroughly enjoyed a place you thought you would loathe?

 

Where to next?

 

La Paz, Bolivia

 

You can follow me on twitter @ash_jordan and instagram @ashgjordan


**For those interested in alternative treks to Macchu Picchu that aren’t as taxing on the wallet there are a couple of options. I’ve heard many good reports about the Salkantay and Jungle treks from other travelers. An additional benefit of going with an alternative trail is that you can organize them when you get to Cuzco, rather than several months before hand, which is necessary for the official trail**

Original article can be found here: Vagabonding Field Report: disappointment on the path to Machu Picchu

Housesitting: the perfect travel job?

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

Palm trees in Koh Samui. Photo: Chi King / Flickr

Here’s the deal: free housing, living in a beautiful island and some fun work. Oh, and the boss is far away and can’t micromanage you. Sound too good to be true? That’s what Meg and Tony of the Landing Standing blog experienced in their post titled Housesitting in Thailand: live for free in paradise.

Meg described the setup here:

For 4 weeks, we were housesitting on the beautiful Thai island of Koh Samui. The house itself was a luxury villa/mansion perched on top of a peninsula on the Northeast side of the island that boasted panoramic views of the Gulf of Thailand from every room in the house.

. . . Not one but TWO swimming pools, a jacuzzi, a full gym, a media room, a Snooker room, a pool-side bar and entertainment system…. The list goes on! This place was over the top and we were so excited to be spending the month there!

Sounds like something out of the TV show “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.”

By now you’re wondering how to get in on this. Meg helpfully explains what website she used and the process of connecting with the house owners. She also stressed that this type of luxury situation might not be the typical housesitting experience.

A Canadian girl I knew had a ninja tip to share: read up on your competition. Check out the profiles of other prospective housesitters.  Pick up tricks on how to write a warm, personable profile that attracts house owners. Learn the right things to say that build up trust and rapport that gets people to give you the keys.

Have you ever done housesitting? Please share your stories in the comments.

Original article can be found here: Housesitting: the perfect travel job?

Travel is not a contest

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

I love sitting in the common room of a youth hostel, or on the deck of a boat sliding down a jungle river swapping stories with other travelers. I love the light in the eyes of that girl who’s just had her first real adventure and lived to tell about it. I love the excited trading of intel on what to see, “when you get there,” that’s not in the guidebook and the frantic scribbling of details in the back of a well worn journal. There is a camaraderie in shared experiences; a brotherhood formed in adversity and adventure. All travelers know this, and we recognize it instantly in one another’s eyes.

My kids play a game, it doesn’t have a name, but it goes something like this:

“Hey, that guy over there, he looks like the real deal, this is not his first rodeo.” They’ll admire his worn boots and filthy pack. “I’ll bet he’s got some great stories!” One of them will follow him around until he notices and then invite him to dinner, “We’ll trade you dinner for your travel stories,” is our hook. It works almost every time. We’ve been taken vicariously across the great-grey-green-greasy-Limpopo river in a worn out jeep, flown in war planes over Palestine, crossed mountain ranges on foot and by bicycle, and seen full moon parties we’d never attend in a million years, all though the stories of the road worn, in trade for a chunk of homemade bread.

The other half of the game plays out more like this:

We’re walking down the hill towards the boats that will take us an hour across the lake toward “home,” the nine year old spots a group of backpackers conferring nervously over their map:

“Uh oh, those guys look lost,” and he trots off to see what they need. Later, on the boat, I overhear the dialogue, “It’s okay, these boats don’t turn over very often, but if they do, just pop your backpack off and swim away from the boat, in a panic someone might try to grab you and drown you if you don’t. When the boat arrives, just pay attention to what the guy ahead of you pays and pay that, whatever you do, DON’T ask how much the crossing costs, the boat drivers jack it up by three times if you do that.” The backpackers exchange incredulous looks, Ez carries on, oblivious, “So, where’ve you guys been? Where are you going?” The ball is successfully lobbed into their court; the boy settles into his boat cushion to listen and learn.

What’s the point of the game?

Travel is not a contest.

It’s not about who’s been to more countries, or speaks more languages, or has logged more days in uncomfortable places. It’s not about the number of “flags” you’ve collected or the world records you’ve broken or the world heritage sites you’ve ticked off of your list. Those things don’t matter any more than winning the National Spelling Bee does if you can’t then string those words into meaningful reflections and write your life with them. The game is about finding out what kinds of lives have been written, what lessons have been learned and discovering what it means to be human in the grander scheme of things. It’s a good game for nomadic folk of all ages to play.

I lay on the deck of a floating raft house on Cheow Laan Lake, last week with a group of young travelers.

Conversation rapidly deteriorated to the member-measuring contest for pecking order of who’d “done” the most. We listened, we played some music and sang while they patted one another on their backs for their accomplishments. We watched the Leonid meteor shower with them and asked some questions to keep them talking. Some of the best teachers are the ones who don’t even know they’re delivering life lessons. As the meteors petered out and the travelers turned in we found ourselves alone with one, beautiful, young German girl, with hair the colour of starlight. She had remained quiet in the group, but opened up when we were alone with the moon. She was just 19, traveling solo for a few months, and trying hard to find her feet in a world where she was out gunned and out talked by almost all of the other travelers.

“I don’t know why it matters,” she mused, “Why do I have to know who I am and where I’m going? Why do I have to have answers to all of those questions right now. I can’t say what I want to “do” or “be” as an adult. I mean, I’m here right now. This is me. Do I need to be any more than that? I am on this journey not because I need a gap year, or because I’m trying to figure things out, I’m doing this because this is what I want to do, for me. I’m learning about the world, and about myself. It doesn’t matter where I’ve been, or where I’m going. I’m just writing my own life.”

I smiled in the darkness. There it was, the lesson: Travel, and life, are not a contest. This young girl “got it,” and she articulated it beautifully.

Original article can be found here: Travel is not a contest

Roadschooling: Education on the road

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

What do you do about your sons’ education?

We were asked that question a lot when people saw the four of us traveling on our bikes throughout the Americas.

At first glance, it would be easy to think we were neglecting their education. Two preteen boys riding fully loaded touring bikes from Alaska to Argentina… were they really learning the 3 R’s?

Both my husband and I are long-time teachers and I like to think that classroom experience taught us a few things about how kids learn. The most important thing I’ve learned from my students throughout the years is that kids learn. They just do. In spite of teachers. In spite of parents. Kids learn. It’s what their brains are designed to do.

One might think that, as long-time teachers, we would favor a fairly structured approach to our children’s education. We don’t.

If we’ve learned anything from our four years of full-time travel on bicycles, it’s that Mother Nature is a much better teacher than we’ll ever be. Mother Nature taught our sons about their world – about the formation of mountains and canyons, about seasons, about wildlife and plant life. She taught them about the sheer variety our world has to offer and how interconnected we all are.

It was incredible to watch our sons exploring their world. We could see the magic in their eyes when they climbed out from under a bush tenderly cradling a discarded cicada shell or when they swam with sea lions. Each experience added to the vast network of knowledge they stored in their brains.

I was amazed at how easily my sons picked up information. I used to joke that simply by pedaling through an area, the collective wisdom of the area passed into their brains by osmosis. It honestly was like that.

One time we were in the Galapagos Islands where Charles Darwin formulated his theories on evolution. As our guide explained the theories, my sons were running around the beach chasing sea lions and not paying attention in the least. Or so I thought.

That evening I decided it was time to play “school” – the theories of evolution are too important to leave to chance and, since we were in the Galapagos, now was the time. I herded my sons into our cabin for their lesson.

“Today we’re going to learn about Darwin’s theories of evolution,” I told my sons once we were properly situated on our beds and ready for school. “Can you tell me who made the Galapagos Islands famous?”

“Charles Darwin!” they cried.

“Exactly,” I replied. “And do you know why?”

“Because this is where he saw all the unique animals and came up with his ideas about evolution.”

“You’re good! What ideas are you talking about?”

“Natural selection, Mom. The survival of the fittest and all that. The animals that are best suited to live in an area are the ones who manage to pass down their genes so, over time, the whole species changes.”

I was blown away. The whole time our guide had been explaining it, all I saw was the boys running around the islands oohing and aahing over the cute little sea lions. Maybe I didn’t need to be worried about their education after all.

My sons showed me, time and time again, how capable they are of learning. As we traveled, their reading, writing, and mathematics skills skyrocketed. Their understanding of science and social studies went through the roof. In short, they learned more than I ever dreamed two preteen boys could possibly learn.

What’s the takeaway here? Get your kids outside and let them explore. They’ll learn. They really will.

 This article originally appeared on Unplugged Mom.

Nancy Sathre-Vogel is a long-time schoolteacher who taught grades 1 – 9 plus Special Education in Honduras, Egypt, Ethiopia, Taiwan, and Malaysia. She’s also traveled widely on her bicycle – including a one-year jaunt around the Indian subcontinent, another one-year ride around the USA and Mexico with her husband and two children, and then spent nearly three years cycling from Alaska to Argentina with her family. Now she’s living in Boise, Idaho, putting down roots and enjoying being part of a larger community.

Original article can be found here: Roadschooling: Education on the road

Travel is a quest for common miracles

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

“I want to know what it feels like to actually be in a place that I’ve always heard about, to be part of its daily atmosphere and rhythm. I don’t need to see every famous sight, every last mosque and museum; art is all around me, wherever I look: intricately woven baskets in an Asian market, elegant pottery in an African village, ornate silver jewelry on tribal women. I marvel at how broadly the artistic gene has been distributed: at the human ability to make ordinary objects of extraordinary beauty. I marvel at the beauty of the people themselves, especially women and children. I marvel at the infinite varieties of religious experience: the countless forms that faith can take, the endless thanking and beseeching and propitiating of gods through worship and song and dance. These are some of the common miracles I go in search of.”

–William Zinsser, “The Road to Timbuktu: Why I Travel,” The American Scholar, Winter 1997

Original article can be found here: Travel is a quest for common miracles

Authentic Asia: find it at the shopping mall

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

Recently I have been intrigued by something travel writer Tom Coote said on his website about the quest for authenticity in travel:

“The concept of authenticity has largely been appropriated as yet another way to persuade gullible tourists to part with their hard earned cash. If you really want to get to know a country, you would be better off doing what the locals would like to do, rather than visiting pointless tourist attractions, boring museums and tedious ‘cultural events’.”

I can just plainly agree.

Image credit: http://investvine.com

He goes on proposing a few “Other things to do” to escape corporate – and local – attempts to part your money from your pockets, and ultimately comments that supermarkets are often infinitely better than the “authentic” markets that, by definition, are created to lure in the tourist. And again, indulge in Mission  Empty Pocket.  I have been thinking for quite a while that what Tom Coote has written is unbelievably true. Especially in Asia.

Asians, of all the peoples in the world I met, seem to be the ones enjoying the globalizing world most than anyone else. Really.  And let’s face it: as much as many Asian countries would look so much better if people wore only traditional dresses, stop and think. Authentic is what REALLY is authentic; the true essence of life. And this essence, around Asia, is to be massively found within the malls’ walls. Flashing lights, Starbuck cafés, high heels, miniskirts and suits and ties. The oxen-pulled carts have been left out for good, although some Western traveler would have definitely loved to see them ply up and around the mall’s moving escalators. To cite the words of my Asian partner: “Why should we love regress, when we can finally have some progress? Should I dress up in rags to make you happy and give you the authentic experience?”. So, I argue that an authentic tour of China, Thailand and India would not be authentically complete if you did not pay at least a visit to these new temples of authenticity. Stroll up and down the aisles, check out some strange products, observe what locals try to fill their carts with. Look at the screaming babies and thumb through the books on offer. Get an insight into their real, modern culture. Join throngs of families looking for the new plasma television experience, or the latest improvement in whipping cream technology. And you would probably feel that those big differences you felt as you arrived are not as huge as you thought. It is a matter of perspectives. Like the one beautiful perspective I am having now, watching people walking inside of the mall from the safe air-condition comfort of a wirelessly powered Starbucks. This is my window of opportunity to the authentic world.

Original article can be found here: Authentic Asia: find it at the shopping mall

Vagabonding Case Study: Fabian Dittrich

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

Fabian Dittrich

fabandvivien.com

Age: 30

Hometown: Berlin, Germany

Quote: “One shouldn’t listen too much to what other people say about “dangers” in countries where they never went..”

How did you find out about Vagabonding, and how did you find it useful before and during the trip?

I saw Rolf speaking at Do-Lectures and ordered Vagabonding before I left on a backpacking trip to Morocco. I had a flight from Berlin to Tangier, I arrived around 6am at the airport, just to find out that my plane was 3 hours late. Very angry, like all others who were on the same flight, I walked up and down at the airport. Then I started to read Vagabonding and it the following three hours of reading it converted me from an angry time fixated German into a laid back traveler who takes things as they come. It was just a two weeks trip, but not until the last day I thought about when my flight would go back, I was totally living in the moment, not even using a Lonely Planet or any other travel guide. I just let it flow, didn’t plan anything, just hung out at places until somebody would cross my way and take me somewhere. By living in the presence and being open I met the most interesting people on that trip: I traveled with an american Vietnam veteran, a Moroccan refugee and the woman of my dreams.

How long were you on the road?

I am still on the road, currently driving a 23 year old Mercedes-Benz from Berlin, Germany to Cape Town, South Africa. It´s been six month now since I left Berlin and I still have about 8 months to go.

Where all did you go?

I went through Germany, France, Spain, Morocco, Mauritania  Senegal, Gambia, Mali, Burkina Faso, Ghana, Togo, Benin, Nigeria, Cameroon and Gabon.

From here I will travel through Kongo-Brazzaville, Kongo-Kinshasa, Angola, Namibia and South Africa. There I am going to sell my car, catch a plane to Argentina, get a new car, and do the same thing from South America to Central America, crossing Argentina, Chile, Peru, Ecuador, Venezuela and Colombia.

What was your job or source of travel funding for this journey?

I got funds from three sources: First, I worked the last years as a freelance web-developer and saved some money. Second: I won 10.000$ in a video competition by Ford. Third, I found 3 small sponsors for my trip, they provided hardware (Cam, MacBook, etc.) and a little money too.

Did you work or volunteer on the road?

During my trip I visit small grass root projects and raise money for these projects in combination with a crazy bet: For each 10 bucks donated, I have to find 1 person that sings a song with me. If i don´t make it a penalty awaits me. Just like last time: I raised money for Gambian orphans, 1110€ were donated and i thus had to find 111 people to sing with me. This time I made it, you can see the result here: www.fabandvivien.com/if-your-life-were-a-movie-would-you-watch-it/

I also film a lot on the way and release webisodes about my traveling, think of a travel diary in video form.

For me all this is fun, rather than work, so the answer is more a “no” than a “yes”.

Of all the places you visited, which was your favorite?

I don’t really care about places, for me the people I meet make all the difference. Mali is definitely my favorite county in Africa. It is full of art, vibrant street markets, amazing nature and very hospital people.

Was there a place that was your least favorite, or most disappointing, or most challenging?

Most challenging: Nigeria! Crossing borders in Africa with a car is never really easy, but Nigeria is something else. I entered through Benin had to have long and tedious discussions with the Nigerian police, customs and gendarmes  From the border to Lagos, about 20 miles, I got stopped around 20 times, by police, immigration, health control, anti bomb squad and anti drug squad. When entering Nigeria through Benin I nearly reached my limit: I got stuck for 7 hours in the worst traffic jam I ever saw in my entire life. It was midnight on a 4 lane motor highway when my cooling water ran out because of a spoiled tube. Two Nigerians helped me pushing my smoking car out of the traffic and on the side of the street, but instead of fixing the problem they sabotaged my car, acted like they didn’t do anything and demanded money from me to fix it. Other people approached my car and tried to catch a glimpse through the window to see what was in my car. I was stuck, exhausted and at my limit, totally dependent on the 2 Nigerians, because only they knew how to fix what they had sabotaged.

Did any of your pre-trip worries or concerns come true?  Did you run into any problems or obstacles that you hadn’t anticipated?

My trip worries were based on stereotypes and prejudices imprinted into my mind by western media and story of people who “heard something bad from a friend”. There is so much rubbish being told in the internet, in bad travel guides and by people. When I was in Gambia people told me I should be aware in Ghana. When I was in Ghana people told me Gambia is dangerous, if you read the website of the German foreign ministry you´re not supposed to even go further south in Africa than Morocco. At the end none of this gossip was true. Africans are incredible hospital, friendly and helpful, much more than in Germany! Problems I hadn’t anticipated? The only real problem is the visa for Angola which seams to be really hard to get, I am still working on it.

Since I regularly upload videos and internet connections in Africa are really slow this also has become quite a challenge.

Apart from that – no problems!

Which travel gear proved most useful?  Least useful?

In an environment which constantly changes (because I drive in a car) it´s good to have something that doesn’t change. That´s why I have to say the most useful gear was my iPod. Without music I wouldn’t have had the strength and motivation to do a trip like that. Since I have a car I can carry a lot of things, I have a tent, sleeping bag and an air mattress which are very useful to me because i mainly sleep outside.

Least useful? I brought 6 books, didn’t read any of them cause i preferred to get local literature.

What are the rewards of the vagabonding lifestyle?

Learning to take things as they come, to live in the present and to, without actively planning it, find yourself in the most amazing situations.

What are the challenges and sacrifices of the vagabonding lifestyle?

I guess the biggest challenge is to go back and integrate what you have learned into society.

What lessons did you learn on the road?

I call it “human to human” communication. Imagine an onion with three layers, the chore is the human being, it´s the same for all of us, in the chore we are no different. The second layer is culture, traditions, rituals, race, color and the third is your role, your job. Now imagine you are crossing Nigeria in a car, a policeman stops you, he would usually ask you for some money. I nearly never had to pay anything, cause I tried to stay in my centre, being just a human being like him, not taking either my role (over lander in Africa) or his role (policeman) to serious. The human to human communication helps me a lot in all sorts of situations.

I also learned that one shouldn’t listen too much to what other people say about “dangers” in countries where they never went.

How did your personal definition of “vagabonding” develop over the course of the trip?

I had my definition sorted out before I went on this trip. The most vagabondish experience I had was two years ago on a trip to Morocco, since then it didn’t change much.

If there was one thing you could have told yourself before the trip, what would it be?

“Get your Angola visa in Germany!”

Any advice or tips for someone hoping to embark on a similar adventure?

- Mercedes cars are the best for Africa, definitely diesel, you can get one in Europe for 1000$ and sell it on the way for 3000$.

- People say it´s more expensive to travel in Africa than in Thailand or India. I don´t think it´s true. If you have a sleeping bag and an open mind you can always find locals who let you sleep in their place. Concerning food you can eat for about 4$ a day.

When and where do you think you’ll take your next long-term journey?

In Cape Town I will catch a flight to South America and spend around 6-8 months there. This for me is the next long-term journey. I guess when coming home to Berlin I will stay there for some years, I can´t always travel and I want a place to rest to write a book about the experiences I made during my travels.

Website: fabandvivien.com
Twitter: fabandvivien

Are you a Vagabonding reader planning, in the middle of, or returning from a journey? Would you like your travel blog or website to be featured on Vagabonding Case Studies? If so, drop us a line at casestudies@vagabonding.net and tell us a little about yourself.

Original article can be found here: Vagabonding Case Study: Fabian Dittrich

On fear

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

Fear. It’s a powerful thing.

In some ways, fear is a good thing – it keeps us safe and prevents us from doing things that might harm us. It’s fear that keeps us from venturing into dangerous places and from doing things that we’re not prepared for. A healthy dose of fear is a wonderful thing to have.

On the other hand, fear can prevent us from doing things that would be great for us – if we could only figure out a way to face and overcome those fears.

I’ve been thinking about how fear affected my life and about what kinds of things I’m afraid of. I’ve heard so many people say, “You’re so brave to ride a bike from Alaska to Argentina” and yet I don’t think I am. I think I simply acknowledged my fears and went anyway.

Way back many years ago when my husband first brought up the idea of quitting our jobs and taking off on bicycles with our children, I thought he was nuts. Stark, raving crazy for thinking we could ride bikes thousands of miles with children. I mean – that’s not exactly what parents do!

But as time marched on and he kept talking about it, I realized that what was holding me back was fear. In particular, fear of failure.

At the time, I had convinced myself that there was no way I could ride a heavily loaded bike all day and keep all four of us fed and healthy and set up the tent every evening and take it down every morning. There was no way I could do all that and still be Mom to my precious sons.

You’ve been there, right? You know you can’t do something so you don’t even try? That’s exactly where I was.

Then one day, I had my EUREKA moment. I realized that if I didn’t try, I would fail for sure. If I loaded up my bike and took that first pedal stroke I figured I had a 50/50 chance of success, but not trying at all meant a 100% chance of failure. That just didn’t make sense.

In my mind, I had convinced myself it was better to fail by not even trying than to face the humiliation and agony of defeat. But by doing that, I didn’t give myself the chance to experience the exhilaration of success.

A few days later we headed down to the store to buy bikes and the rest, as they say, is history. We spent a whole year cycling around the USA and Mexico, then another three years cycling from Alaska to Argentina. Those four years I’ve spent on my bicycle with my family have been some of the best years of my life.

And they never would have happened if I hadn’t faced my fear and climbed on that bike.

What fears do you have? What is it that’s holding you back from living the life of your dreams?

Nancy Sathre-Vogel is the “Mom” to Family On Bikes. They are just your everyday, American family who happens to be following their dreams and chasing rainbows. They are adventure-seekers and modern-day explorers who are limited only by their imaginations—and they have very vivid imaginations! They learned early to grab life by the horns and live it to the fullest—to, literally and figuratively, enjoy the ride. The Vogel Family’s most recent adventure was cycling 17,300 miles from Alaska to Argentina.

Original article can be found here: On fear

“Secret” spots the hot new travel trend?

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

Top secret stamp. Photo: Mike Licht / Flickr

You’ve got a favorite restaurant that few people know about. Or it’s a cool location with a view that’s only meant for the locals. It’s fun to have secrets. CNN had this article: The rise of ‘secret tourism.’

The story talks about event organizers who build anticipation and unique experiences by keeping visitors in the dark until the last possible moment. In a way, it harkens back to the pre-Internet ways of travel: where you were never sure what you’d see when you arrived on the other side. Today’s world of the Internet, social networks and information overload can diminish the mystique of going abroad.

If you’re on the inside, exclusivity is fun: it makes you feel cool and in-the-know. For those who think the experiences in the CNN story are too manufactured, here’s a similar piece about underground bars and clubs in Japan: Hidden Tokyo. Now that’s a city I could live in for years and still not find all the awesome venues.

One of my favorite secret spots was a bar/restaurant in Taipei, Taiwan called People Restaurant (a.k.a. Shintori Restaurant). The branch I went to was down a set of stairs between two banks. Only people who knew it was there would find the place. Not a place where pedestrains would stumble across it. There is a big wooden door and no sign. The secret: stick your hand into a stone lantern, then the door will slide open. Inside, is a sleek, fashionable hangout. The drinks come in kooky, weirdly-shaped glasses. The popular item with groups were the “test tube” shots. A bowl of alcohol shots in little glasses that looked like test tubes. People Restaurant was my top spot to take visitors.

Do you have favorite secret spots? Please describe them in the comments.

Original article can be found here: “Secret” spots the hot new travel trend?

To travel is to make oneself a figure of potential ridicule

Vagablogging :: Rolf Potts Vagabonding Blog

“There is an unavoidable truth about traveling: To travel is to make oneself a figure of potential ridicule. Travel makes us vulnerable. Most experienced travelers know their basic needs can be met wherever they may be. You just have to ask for what you want and accept what you get.”

–Stefany Anne Golberg, “You Can Take It with You,” The Smart Set, May 23, 2012

Original article can be found here: To travel is to make oneself a figure of potential ridicule