Unconventional travel tips to ensure a great vacation

You know the basics: Don’t forget your I.D., pack your 3-1-1 bags, always bring a spare set of clothes, and make sure to charge your cell phone before setting off on your adventure. But how about trying something a little different? Here are some not-so-typical things that can make a vacation fun

Don’t book a hotel before venturing off to your destination.
Take a chance and go to your destination without pre-booking your hotel room. The fun of not knowing where you are going to stay heightens the excitement of the trip. Not only will you be able to see the hotel up-close-and-personal but you might be lucky enough to find a hotel at a cheap rate.

Forget the web. Spontaneity helps keep the fun in relationships, so why not be spontaneous when it come to your vacation activities? Forget researching the web before you go. Get there and explore — you will have the insider’s guide as you explore your surroundings and check with the locals to find the destination’s hidden treasures.

Become your own tour guide. Take a walk around town with others and see what you see. Talk to locals about the town’s history; you are more likely to find secrets and additional information from them than with a tour guide.Cash out. Budgets are extremely important but splurging on something worthwhile can add to the fun of vacationing. You worked hard to be able to go on vacation, so why not treat yourself while you’re there? Whether it is a five-course meal at a high-end restaurant, a pricey souvenir that you are sure to never forget, or VIP seating at the hottest local club, you are sure to have a blast breaking the bank.

Re-introduce yourself to entertainment. Leave the electronics at home. You do not want to be distracted by portable DVD players and iPhones when you are visiting the Grand Canyon for the first time, or climbing Mt. Washington. Re-introduce yourself to entertainment from before it was electronic (i.e., nature, reading, walks and sunsets.)

Pack only what you need. Over-packing can actually save you in the long run. Imagine not having your sneakers on a vacation to the beach. You want to visit the boardwalk and ride the rides, but all you brought were a pair of flip-flops. Nothing brings your mood down like not being able to do what you want to do because you packed lightly.

Antoinette Francis is a Seed.com writer.

From the Shores of Louisiana: Morning in Sulphur Grove

Sulphur Grove, Louisiana – At 4:30 a.m. a pair of sport fishing boats being launched on the edge of Barataria Bay on a humid morning – where fishing has been banned for more than two months — is made more odd thanks to the backlighting of a partial lunar eclipse.

P.J. Hahn, a one-time Texas cop turned Louisiana politician, steps down out of his pick-up truck lugging a waterproof box filled with camera gear and a plastic bag full of clothes to protect against sun and wet, but not oil.

Before his feet hit the ground, he’s storytelling. “I dove into the sea just days after the spill began,” he starts, “and was cleaning oil out my ears for three days afterwards. The wetsuit I wore that day? I took it home and soaked it in my bathtub for a day trying to get the oil out of it, but ended up throwing it out. I would never have gotten the oil out and it smelled like hell.”

The very hands-on Director of Coastal Restoration for Plaquemines Parish – the 80-mile long peninsula jutting into the Gulf south of New Orleans — has no hesitancy plunging hands, feet, even his head into the oily mess that continues to grow in the complexity of marshes that stretch for miles to the Gulf. He only wishes there was more he could do.

“Why are we the only people out here at this time of morning, when the seas are calm?” he wonders out loud as we motor down a canal towards the sprawling bay. “Most of these workers wait until the sun is high before they come out to work.” Citing a lack of federal government leadership, he insists the clean-up is going as well as it can “but I’ve never seen as much incompetency as I’ve seen on the federal side here.”
As the fishing boat slides quietly through no-wake zones, its massive 250 hp engine overkill for the kind of floating inspection we are planning for the day, P.J. is on a roll. We pass barges laden with piles of brand new orange and yellow boom, absorbents and waste bins ready to receive plastic bags filled with dirty versions brought in by clean-up crews. A line of a dozen airboats are parked at the edge of the marsh grass; normally used for tourists and fishing, like every boat on the bay these days they are being used in the clean-up effort.

His early morning tirade is in part motivated by the fact that just the day before the federal government had shut down the tens of millions of dollars dredging project Governor Bobby Jindal, a favorite here in Plaquemines Parish, had launched in spite of its opposition in the Chandeleur Islands.

The fed – specifically the Fish and Wildlife Department and the Army Corps of Engineers – had discouraged the dredging project since it was first proposed, as too little too late and potentially more harmful to wildlife than oil. Jindal proceeded anyway, making him a folk hero in conservative circles across the south for standing up to the national government.

While Jindal has been the most outspoken of the four Gulf State Republican governors in his criticisms of the fed’s response to the oil gusher, his state has not exactly made spill prevention or clean-up a priority … until April 20. In the past decade the staff of the state’s oil spill coordinator’s office has been cut in half and in the past year Jindal had cut the unit’s budget in half.

Still, P.J. and many others in Plaquemines Parish feel trying something is better than sitting around doing nothing.

“Billy (Nunsegger, Plaquemines Parish president who has become the go-to guy for Anderson Cooper and other national media talking when they need a local voice of outrage) seems to think Obama really cares. I’m not as convinced,” says P.J., but when pressed he admits there’s no precedent for this mess, thus no clear path.

His real concern this early morning is the lack of activity. “If this is really a war, us against the oil, where is everybody? Now is the time to start working, when it’s calm, before the winds pick up. Why are we the only people out here on the bay?

“With this kind of attitude, the oil will definitely win.”

Peruvian adventure travel and agritourism on Lake Titicaca’s Isla Amantani

While I sat at the table with her young son, Ayun, I watched Imeliana Calcin stuff wood into the stove. Although she’d greeted me at the boat dock in a skirt and faded t-shirt, she’d changed as soon as we arrived at her family’s tiny adobe house. Now, clad in the intricately-embroidered white blouse and headscarf for which the women of Isla Amantani are famed, she was preparing sopa de quinoa for our lunch.

I was on the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca, the
unfortunately-named, highest commercially navigable lake in the world. Amantani, like neighboring Isla Taquile, is a small, natural island (not to be confused with the famous, totora reed “Floating Islands” elsewhere on the lake) populated solely by subsistence farmers like the Calcin’s.

Since the mid-eighties, agritourism has helped provide income to the islanders. Visitors stay in modest guest rooms, or share a dwelling with families, joining meals and even helping with seasonal crop harvests, if they so desire. The islanders hold frequent dances to provide visitors a chance to interact with the communities, and learn more about Amantani’s culture.

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Otherwise, there’s no other real tourism infrastructure on Amantani-no restaurants, bars, or shops, although the locals sell their embroidery at the dock. The farmstays are arranged by tour operators in the lakeside city of Puno, or through adventure travel agencies such Northern California’s Bio Bio Expeditions, the company I booked with.

The residents of Amantani and Taquile speak Quechua, the language used by various cultural groups throughout South America. The islanders, however, are more closely related to the Aymara people of the Altiplano of the Central Andes. The approximately 800 residents eke out an existence by growing quinoa, trigo (emmer wheat), corn, potatoes, and oca (a type of sweet potato); and raising sheep, chickens, pigs, alpacas, and cuy (guinea pigs, a typical indigenous dish throughout Peru). They make a mild, salty queso fresco from the milk of their cows, and sun-dry part of their potato crop to make chũno, which can be reconstituted in soups and stews for sustenance throughout the harsh winter.
I first heard about the island the previous year, while running Chilean Patagonia’s wild Futaleufu River on a Bio Bio trip.

I was really impressed by Bio Bio’s genuine regard for preserving the ecological and cultural integrity of their host countries. After learning of my interest in agritourism, Peruvian guide Piero Vellutino told me about Amantani, and suggested I visit the following summer, during the dry season. Piero-whose family is famed for their whitewater expeditions and first ascents- is National Peruvian Kayaking Champion, and an all-around badass. He and his wife, Patty, are also the Peruvian base outfitter for Bio Bio. Their company, Terra Explorer Peru, is based in Cusco, and together, the companies offer customized cultural extension trips such as cooking classes and market tours, because, Piero explains, “that’s what makes places special and distinct from one another. Water is the same everywhere.”

I booked a trip with Bio Bio to run the Apurimac River and walk the Inca Trail, then added two days on Amantani-which has excellent sea kayaking, and plenty of walking trails. Due to time constraint, I was unable to sea kayak, and instead opted to focus on food. That’s how I ended up in Imeliana’s kitchen (which also happened to be her famiy’s dining and living room, as well as bedroom). Ayun and I snacked on choclo, boiled native corn harvested that morning by his father, Esmael. When he’s not tending to his crops, Esmael can be found down by the boat dock selling blended fruit juices from a collapsible table. Entrepreneurial spirit is a necessity to support his and Imeliana’s six children, but they were genuinely sweet, gracious hosts who made me feel a part of the family.

The Calcin’s live in Colquercachi community, the largest on the tiny island. Through sign language and rudimentary Spanish on both our parts, Imeliana taught me how to prepare the soup, and described typical meals- primarily some type of grain-based soup or stew, rice and boiled potatoes, and corn. When lunch was served-brothy soup augmented with greens, potato, carrot, and onion, accompanied by fried queso fresco, and sliced cucumbers and tomatoes- several of the children straggled in from school to pick up their lunch. Imeliana portioned their meals onto aluminum plates, wrapped them in cloth, tying the ends into a handle, and sent them on their way with a dazzling smile. The meal concluded with muňa tea, a mint-like herb prized for it’s medicinal properties.

After lunch, I hiked to Pachatata, the highest point on the desolate, nine-kilometer island. I passed women harvesting potatoes in brick-red dirt fields, and men carrying sheaves of trigo upon their shoulders. At the “summit,” there is a small temple used for private rituals and feast days. Spread out beneath me in all directions lay terraced farm plots, divided by low rock walls. Far across the lake, the snow-covered Bolivian Andes were visible. Amantani is wild, and lonely, and emblematic of a way of life that-for better or for worse- has changed little in thousands of years. It’s not a luxury holiday, but it’s a rich experience that helps preserve a globally vanishing way of life.

If you visit Amantani or Taquile, it is appropriate to bring a house gift such as fresh fruit, which is difficult to find on the island, or staples such as rice, sugar, or flour. Donated clothing for the island’s children is also appreciated.

LAN offers flights from Lima to Juliaca, which shares an airport with Puno (one hour by minibus). Alternatively, you can take a coach from Arequipa or Cuzco (five and six hours, respectively). If you’re traveling alone to Puno by bus, be sure to book a trip that gets in at a reasonable hour. I ended up arriving at 4am, and the Puno bus station (or any bus station, really) isn’t somewhere you want to be, alone, at that hour.

Sopa de Quinoa
Quinoa has been cultivated in the Andes since approximately 3,000 BC. It has a mild, nutty flavor, and is a complete protein (meaning it has all the essential amino acids). Substitute it for couscous or rice in soups and salads, or as an accompaniment to meat or vegetarian dishes. This recipe is actually one I obtained from a dairy I visited in Ecuador; it differs from Imeliana’s in that it contains…dairy. But it’s so unbelievably delicious, especially when made with pasture-raised eggs, and good-quality milk, butter, and cheese, that I had to include it.

Recipe courtesy of chef Jose Maria Pumisacho, Hacienda Zuleta

Serves four

2 cups quinoa
6 cups water
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 scallions, white part only, sliced
1/3 cup heavy cream
½ cup of milk
yolks of two large eggs
½ cup of grated, semi-firm cheese that melts well, such as Gruyere
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

Put water into a stockpot, and bring to a boil. Lower heat to a simmer, add quinoa, and cover the pot, stirring occasionally. Cook quinoa for approximately one- to one-and a half hours, or until the grains are soft.
While quinoa is cooking heat an eight-inch frying pan over medium heat, add butter, and when butter is melted, add onions and cook until transparent. When quinoa is ready, add onions and half of the milk to the quinoa and bring to a boil for five minutes, then reduce heat and let simmer.

While quinoa mixture is simmering, add egg yolks, the remaining milk, cream, and cheese in a blender, and process for one minute. Add this mixture to the soup right before serving, and stir it into the soup. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve immediately.

Don George: Five things I learned at TBEX

I approached last month’s TBEX10 in New York – the travel bloggers’ conference organized by Travel Blog Exchange — with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The excitement was because I felt like an explorer on the precipice of a new world, about to stare out onto – and immerse myself in — a landscape I’d only seen in glimpses and snatches. The trepidation was because it’s unsettling sailing from an old comfortable world into a new unfamiliar one, and even though I’ve been wandering in the digital publishing world for 15 years now – half of my professional life — my apprenticeship was in the old world of print publishing and the new world still feels, well, new to me.

So I landed in New York on June 24 – and experienced over the next three days an intoxicatingly varied and vibrant microcosm of the evolving world of travel blogging. I meant to write about the conference immediately after it ended, but a couple of days later I was on a plane to Peru for a seven-day exploration of the Sacred Valley, so I had to put my TBEX reflections momentarily on hold.

Now I’m back and those reflections have had a few weeks to simmer and settle into these five things I learned at TBEX10:

1. It’s a Small World After All: My aforementioned trepidations melted as soon as I walked into the pre-conference kick-off party. Not only did the crowd contain lots of familiar faces – Wendy Perrin, Jim Benning, Spud Hilton, Mike Yessis – but equally comforting, a great number of familiar names were in the room: people I already felt I knew from Twitter or Facebook. This humanization of Twitter handles – “So you’re nerdseyeview!” … “don_george, meet nomadicmatt” … “Heather_Poole in person!” — became an ongoing amazement and joy of the conference.

So, for about five minutes I felt like an outsider – the awkward guy in the corner sipping a beer and surreptitiously checking out the crowd — and after that I jumped onto the roller-coaster and just enjoyed the ride. Whatever its graces and pitfalls, one truth of social media became crystal clear for me: In its own way, social media is fashioning a new world order, enabling interpersonal connections that span political borders, geographical distances and time zones in a way the world has never experienced before. Time after time after time I witnessed people who had never met hugging like old friends: “I feel like I already know you!” and “It’s so great to finally meet you!” were two prime mantras of the conference.

I believe that great travel narratives transport people and illuminate places as no other literary creation can.

2. The Narrative Is Not Dead: One of the portentous questions I brought with me to the conference concerned the death of the travel narrative. I love travel narratives; I’ve basically made my career by writing and editing travel narratives. For three decades I have believed that great travel narratives transport people and illuminate places as no other literary creation can. But for a few years now I’d been hearing that the rise of online publishing and social media portended the demise and eventual extinction of the old-fashioned narrative.

So I was truly thrilled to discover at TBEX that a great number of attendees do care about great “old-fashioned” travel storytelling. This point was reinforced for me many times over – by kind people who told me how much they had enjoyed my writing or had learned from my Travel Writing book, by the tremendously gratifying response to the “upping your game” panel led expertly by Mike Yessis, and by the delightful and moving presentation Pam Mandel and Mike Barish did on the final day of the conference, reading eight terrific, transporting blog posts.

I came away from TBEX understanding that while digital publishing affects and will affect the shape of travel writing now and to come, the appeal of great travel storytelling remains as vibrant and alluring in this new world as in the old. And I came away believing fervently that while the forms these stories take will morph as the media morph, the fundamental compulsion-quest to create travel stories that evoke and enlighten abides as strongly as ever.

3. Persistence + Passion = Possibility: One of the points I make in Travel Writing, which was originally not written with bloggers in mind, is that being successful as a travel writer requires substantial doses of both passion and persistence. This same message came through loud and clear at TBEX.

Out of almost 400 total attendees, invited panelists and paying participants alike, you could probably cram the number of people actually making a living through their travel writing/blogging into a Gotham Limo. But – and this point was made in panel after panel and party after party — this shouldn’t stop anyone from pursuing their dreams: Travel bloggers/writers just need to realize that persistence is absolutely essential to success, and that the tree of persistence has many boughs: persistence in pursuing your travels; persistence in creating your posts, portfolios and videos; and persistence in promoting yourself, from tweeting to attending travel industry functions to participating in conferences like TBEX.

It’s as true today as it was when I started in this business: Persistence and passion are the keys to possibility.

It’s as true today as it was when I started in this business: Persistence and passion are the keys to possibility. As I write in my book, “The world of travel writing is open to everyone – if you love to travel and love to write, it’s a natural. No one can guarantee that you’ll be successful, but I can guarantee that you’ll never be successful if you don’t try.” Try, TBEX echoed in many different ways, from Gary Arndt‘s empowering presentation on “travel porn” to the multi-faceted panel on niche-mining. The threading subtext was this: However you GPS Success (acclaim, influence, profitability, freebie-arity), you won’t get there without passionate persistence and persistent passion. (And, the corollary message ran, remember that passion + persistence = possibility, not necessarily profitability – but that without the two p’s, profitability is an impossibility.)

4. It’s Not About Old School and New School: While many serious, important issues and questions were raised and explored at the conference, from ethical responsibilities to SEO exigencies (at which point I wrote in my journal: Can literary grace win the Google race?), this Old School-New School lightbulb was the biggest illumination of TBEX for me. I flew into New York thinking there was a Grand Canyon-like divide separating the Principality of Print to the west and the Domain of Digitalism to the east. This notion had been reinforced by countless conversations with cherished colleagues of many decades who have made their careers as newspaper and magazine editors and writers, most of whom have seen the publishing landscape convulse before their eyes and many of whom feel stranded on the wrong side of the divide.

But I came away from TBEX feeling passionately that it’s not about Old School and New School media or creation – and that positing the current publishing situation in this way is distinctly unhelpful. Whether Old School or New School, most of us travel journalists/writers/bloggers are trying to do the same thing – communicate our passion and expertise to readers/viewers who are curious about the world. For some creators, this communication takes the form of practical, nuts-and-bolts-style information, whether service pieces, sidebars, charticles, or blogs; for others, it takes the form of evocative personal narratives and reflections, sometimes woven in words and sometimes in aural and/or visual threads. While our backgrounds may differ, our goals are fundamentally the same.

So I’m no longer thinking of Planet Publishing as divided into the Principality of Print and the Domain of Digitalism: I think this is an artificial and detrimental divide, and my redrawn map now shows one jostling, thriving landmass of multi-media mountains and lakes and rainforests provisionally called the Continent of Creative Communication. (Clearly, I need a little help with my place-naming – all suggestions welcome.)

5. The Only Constant is Change: I realized at TBEX that I had brought a static view of the universe with me to the conference. I’ve already alluded to this above, seeing things in terms of outsider and insider, print and digital, Old School and New School. But my last great TBEX epiphany was that everything is in flux, the blogosphere just as much as the printosphere: The media for the travel message are constantly evolving, as is the globe those media are trying to capture and convey.

It’s all about change. And the best we can do is embrace and celebrate that change.

Travel is alive and well, and we who love it continue to play a vital role as evangelists with a sacred mission, to pave the pathway to peace and understanding around the world.

Embrace and celebrate. For me, the takeaway symbol of the conference was a huge hug: of the future, of the blogging community, of the globe we honor and cherish and try to evoke and share, and of the eternal exhilaration and expansion of travel — the life-changing lessons we absorb and connections we build. This was the ultimate inspiration-message of TBEX10 for me: Travel is alive and well, and we who love it and labor in it continue to play a vital role as evangelists with a sacred mission, to pave the pathway to peace and understanding around the world.

What do you think? Leave a comment here or send me an email at Don DAWT George AT Gadling DAWT Com.

[Photos: Flickr | GalavantingGals; Nerd’s Eye View; Bucky925; GalavantingGals]

Photos show effects of climate change on Everest

A new series of photos from the Himalaya reveal the undeniable effects of global climate change on the glaciers there. This is especially evident on Mt. Everest, where comparative shots from 1921 show just how much the Rongbuk Glacier has retreated over the past 89 years.

Filmmaker and mountaineer David Breashears made the journey to Everest’s North Side, where explorer George Mallory once took a very famous photo of the mountain. Standing in the very spot where Mallory once shot his image, Breashears took a new one, and the differences between the two are startling. In the earlier photo, a thick layer of snow and ice stretches far down the valley, but in the one taken by Breashears, the glacier has withered dramatically. In fact, the Rongbuk has lost more than 320 vertical feet since Mallory shot his photo.

Over the past few years, Breashears has visited a number of other famous mountains throughout Nepal, Tibet, and Pakistan as well. While there, he took similar photos, and each case he discovered a significant loss of glacial ice, which is particularly troubling considering that the Himalayan glaciers are the Earth’s largest sub-polar ice reserves. The loss of that ice has already had a direct and profound impact on the mountains and the people that live there, many of whom now have to walk for hours each day just to find fresh water.

Breashears has taken his collection of photos and created an exhibit known as Rivers of Ice, which just went on display last week at the Asia Society, located in Manhattan. The photos will be open to the public to see until August 15, giving visitors a chance to witness the changes for themselves.

[Photo credit: AFP]