Around the World in 80 Hours (of Travel TV): Part 3

Where does the Travel Channel take us? Rolf Potts embarks on a
one-week gonzo experiment to find out

SAMANTHA BROWN NEEDS A DRINK
Day 3, Hour 36: 12:51 pm.

Just one day after having declared my infatuation with Samantha Brown, I’m beginning to feel like the love has faded. As with many relationships, our falling out has been a slow accumulation of irritants.

Since noon, Samantha has been riding hot air balloons, kayaking, and attending drag- queen brunches in Washington, DC and New Mexico. She’s been her usual gregarious self, but I’ve begun to bristle at her compulsion to laugh at things that aren’t all that funny, her tendency to affect a faint accent when chatting with people who aren’t fluent in English, and her habit of talking over her interview subjects when she gets excited. Sometimes she seems downright ditzy, like the time she sizes up a lunch-counter chilidog in DC and asks her server if she’s supposed to pick it up and eat it. (As opposed to what, Samantha? Hanging it over your fireplace?)The true deal-breaker comes when Passport to Great Weekends drops in on a Santa Fe shamanic healer who appears to have been dreamed into existence by the makers of This is Spinal Tap. All of the hackneyed Aquarian stereotypes make an appearance during the three- minute segment — the quivering maracas, the middle-aged Caucasian shaman-lady invoking the name of “mother earth,” the ridiculously vague messages from the spirit world — but Samantha just blushes and grins at mystical revelations that would probably apply to 80 percent of the U.S. population. (Sample: “You have a lot of dreams and desires, you just haven’t come into a relationship with them.”) When the shaman shares a handful of insights that could have been divined by anyone with a Wikipedia-grade understanding of what a Travel Channel host might like to hear (“you have a desire to unite people from different cultures”), Brown gushes that she feels a new sense of purpose.

Looking back on what I’ve experienced of Samantha Brown in the past three days, I’m pretty sure her most genuine and effective scenes have come when she’s been drinking. Next season on Passport to Great Weekends, I’d love to see Samantha go back to Santa Fe with five shots of tequila under her belt and tell that New Age dingbat to stop blowing sunshine up her ass.


WHEN TRAVEL TV HOSTING GETS REAL.
Day 3, Hour 38: 2:45 pm. If I haven’t said much about Bizarre Foods host Andrew Zimmern, it because he doesn’t offer much to riff on: Despite the name of his show, he’s the most conventional and fundamentally grounded host in the Travel Channel lineup.

He’s the network’s equivalent of the short white guy on the basketball team who sinks all
his free throws.

I don’t mean that in a snarky way: Zimmern is skilled at establishing good-humored chemistry with his interview subjects, and his segments are sprinkled with solid facts about local geography, history, and culture. His penchant for colorful food comparisons (alligator ribs are “seafoody, like a mild crab”; head cheese is “really just pig jello”) offers viewers a tangible sensory reference and keeps the show from turning into a one- note culinary freak show.

Ironically, the most arresting moments on Bizarre Foods come when the host gets caught off-guard and his good-natured fundamentals unravel. Today, for example, Zimmern is eating his way through Ecuador, and despite the charm of his guinea pig restaurant scene (“it’s like picking out a lobster,” he notes, “just go to the pen and point to the one you want to eat”), the show gains a new level of energy when a rainstorm sends his Amazon jungle excursion into disarray. The stitched-together footage of this incident, which was obviously a rather miserable experience at the time, feels more evocative of an actual travel situation than any of the show’s more conventionally exotic setups.

Watching this, I’m reminded of Mark Twain’s observation about what happens when a stray cat wanders onstage during a play. The cat, Twain notes, is more intriguing to watch than the dramatic performance because it is not bound by the rules of narrative probability. In the same way, travel — and, by proxy, travel TV — doesn’t truly get interesting until real events send preparations astray and the traveler is forced to deal with the unexpected.

After a rain-soaked Zimmern munches jungle ants and piranha meat in the Amazon, he is whisked off to see an Ecuadorian witch doctor. At first, when the shaman rubs Zimmern’s half-clothed body with a live guinea pig, the encounter plays out like a standard cross-cultural sight gag. But soon the witch doctor begins to whip the TV host with a bundle of nettle-like twigs, raising angry little welts along his arms and torso. “This isn’t funny anymore,” an increasingly panicked Zimmern implores to his off-screen handlers.

But of course it is funny — not just because of the slapstick factor, but because he has just

given us an unrehearsed glimpse into the world behind his show.

THE GHOSTS ARE NOT IMPRESSED

Day 3, Hour 45: 9:32 pm. The past few hours have taken me through four episodes of infrastructure porn (Top Ten Bridges, World’s Best Megastructures, etc.) and four episodes of multi-city binge eating (Man v. Food). Now I’m watching a show called Ghost Adventures, which follows a three-man camera crew as they lock themselves overnight in purportedly haunted buildings and try to document paranormal activity. The program is one of the Travel Channel’s more popular offerings, but after a half hour of watching, I can’t grasp its appeal. It strikes me as the kind of show excitable 13-year-old boys might watch on a Friday night when they’ve grown bored of playing video games and masturbating.

Tonight the Ghost Adventures team is investigating England’s Ancient Ram Inn, which
is reputed to be infested with all manner of malevolent spirits. The inn is overseen by an
eccentric old codger who tells our ghost-hunters that the structure was built over a 5,000-
year-old pagan burial ground and is thought to contain the bones of children who were ritually sacrificed. Naturally, this intriguing supposition raises a lot of questions. How, for example, do we know that the burial ground is 5,000 years old? What kind of pagans would have been living here at that time, and what do we know of their funerary rites? If bones have indeed been exhumed on the grounds of the inn and they do indeed belong to children, how does one determine if they are the product of some evil ritual?

Unfortunately the ghost-hunting team, which is led by a self-serious metrosexual named Zak Bagans, possesses the combined reportorial acumen of a jar of Miracle Whip. Instead of calling in the counsel of archeologists and cultural historians, they instead invite the perspective of a “witch,” who turns out to be a portly local gal clad in a shiny crayon cape, cherry-red hair-extensions, and a silver tiara. After performing some kind of dagger ceremony (“I call upon the elemental of sylph!” the witch intones), the Ghost Adventures team members prepare themselves for what they call “lockdown.”

I never am able to work out the precise methodology of a lockdown, but apparently it involves a lot of yelling, swearing, and rushing around in the dark with sound recorders and night-vision cameras. Most any ambient noise in the house is immediately identified as ghost activity; seeming door-creaks and hall-drafts are recorded, “enhanced,” and given subtitles (example: “I don’t like you!”) that don’t seem to correspond to the noises in question. Zak and his sidekicks alternate between hollering threats at presumed ghosts and yelping with fear at random noises.

Imagine three stoners with community-theater experience getting together to reenact the Blair Witch Project, and you pretty much get the gist of what I’m watching right now.

TELEVISION FATIGUE, DAY THREE

Day 3, Hour 48 (plus 1): 1:45 am. Having fallen asleep midway through Ghost Adventures, I wake up hours later with the unsettling feeling that I, too, am on “lockdown.” Despite my glib pronouncements about the virtual adventure of my Travel Channel marathon, three days in a hotel room has turned me into a bloated, anxious, cabin-fevered ghost of myself. Hoping to improve my spirits, I head out into the streets of Las Vegas for a wee-hours stroll.

The Plaza Hotel sits at the head of Fremont Street in the aging downtown district of Vegas. The pedestrian walkway here is awash in flashing neon and filled with people: old men dressed in sweat pants; obese couples wearing matching white athletic shoes; groups of college guys clutching large, football-shaped cups full of yellow alcoholic slush. 1980’s hits by artists like Tone Lōc and Steve Winwood blast out over public-address speakers. Strip-club marquees tout a feminine ideal that hinges on Eastern European bone structure and overzealous chest enhancement. Casinos glitter in every direction, advertising music extravaganzas, complimentary slot tokens, all-you-can-eat buffets. Kiosks offer cheap jewelry, bumper stickers, novelty underwear.

On any other day I might have seen this place as an epicenter of low-rent artificiality — but after three waking days of watching travel television, Fremont Street feels startlingly true to life. I walk the streets for nearly two hours, drunk on fresh air and the sight of real human beings.

[Read more of Rolf Potts’ series Around the World in 80 Hours here]

Top 10 travel-themed 50’s songs

When Jeremy took on top 10 travel-themed 80’s songs last week, I headed to the 1950’s. Partially influenced by seeing the 1958 movie version of South Pacific this summer, this choice turned up ten songs that range from show tunes to country to R&B.

Even though much attention was given by American mainstream culture to get Rosie the Riveter back in the kitchen after World War II, certain themes of 1950’s music indicated that Rosie still had dreams of heading elsewhere.

From what I’ve discovered, this theme of escapism–the desire for an exit from the hum drum of everyday life seems to be a predominent expression in song lyrics throughout that decade.

Perhaps with the Cold War giving Joe McCarthy the green light to seek out Communists among creative folks in Hollywood, people had good reason for wanting a mental hiatus from reality. It’s a thought.

Interestingly, some songs, like choice # 9, a song from South Pacific, hold dreams that are as true today as they were back then.

Arranged in chronolgical order according to their release date, here are the top ten travel-themed ’50’s songs, plus a bit of information about each. This is indeed a mixed bag.

[This photo of a woman gazing fondly at the Hi-Fi in her kitchen was hard to resist. I wonder which song she’s listening to?]

Travel 50’s Song # 1. “Jambalya on the Bayou by Hank Williams. Released in 1952, this song captures the need to add a bit of excitement and spice to life. The song topped the charts at # 1 for good reason. How can you not want to head to a Louisiana bayou for a dose of Cajun culture after hearing this one?

As an interesting note about cross-cultural exchange: The original melody of “Jambalaya” was inspired from the French Cajun song, “Big Texas.” After Williams’ version was released, Cajun musicians reworked their version to include Williams’ lyrics paired with Cajun instruments. This helped bring Cajun music into mainstream American culture through its encounter with country music.

Travel 50’s Song # 2. Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier,” the theme song from the 1955 Walt Disney movie.

How many travelers haven’t been inspired by a thirst for the wild frontier? Davy Crockett’s travels helped change his mind when it came to what American politics and the quest for land were doing to American Indians. Crockett took on the establishment to help defeat a bill that would have cost Indians land that had been granted to them in treaties. In a last wild west move, Crockett fought and was killed at the Alamo in San Antonio in a battle to defend Texas.

Travel 50’s Song # 3. The title “Wayward Wind certainly evokes up an image of heading out to see where life will take you. Sung in 1956 by Gogi Grant, Tex Ritter and Jimmy Grant— and several others since then, the song pays tribute to the type of person who is “next of kin to the restless wind that yearns to wander.”

Gee, that sounds like me. This one is Gogi Grant’s rendition. I love, love, love her voice. Also, this song is the one that keeps playing in my head.

Travel 50’s Song # 4. Also in 1956, Connie Francis crooned “Around the World in 80 Days.” In this song, Paris, New York and London are backdrops for finding love. How many of you out there are traveling the world eyeing the crowds for Mr. or Ms. Right? This is a cornball song, but it does make a plug for travel and romance. Bing Crosby’s version was the theme song for the 1956 movie, Around the World in 80 Days.

Travel 50’s Song # 5. In 1957, the song “Over the Mountain and Across the Sea,” let people know that, although you may not have to travel around the world to find love, it may require traveling a distance over the horizon.

The duet Johnnie Louise Richardson and Joe Rivers sang this version that made it to # 3 on the R&B charts and #8 on the Billboard Top 100.

Travel 50’s Song #6. Even though “Day-O (The Banana Song)” isn’t a Harry Belafonte original, Belafonte shot the song to #5 on the music charts in 1957. The first recorded version of this Jamacian folk song was in 1952 when Edric Connor and the Caribbeans released their rendition. Connor, a Trinadian singer, titled the song “Day de Light” on his group’s album, Songs from Jamaica.

After reading about the various ways the song has been parodied, and the countries where it’s been recorded, it’s obvious that some songs have a way of transcending cultural boundaries.”Day-O” is surely an example of this.

Travel 50’s Song #7. In 1958, “Freight Train,” written in about 1906 by Elizabeth Cotton when she was eleven years old, was released in the album Folksongs and Instrumentals with Guitar (also then known as Negro Folksongs and Tunes). This song captures the essence of longing for points beyond the horizon. Here’s an older Cotton singing the song herself.

Inspired by the freight trains that passed by her house, Cotton wrote this song when she lived in Carrboro, North Carolina. When she was 13, her mother began working for the Seeger family, as in Pete Seeger. Thankfully, Cotton’s musical genius had a venue to be noticed and she went on to inspire others through her lyrics and signature guitar-playing technique dubbed “Cotton Picking.” Cotton lived to be 92 and kept singing and picking well into old age.

Travel 50’s Song # 8. Like the song about Davy Crocket, “Rawhide” evokes a sense of adventure through its depiction of life in the west. The song “Rawhide,” recorded by Frankie Lane in 1958, became the theme song for the TV show Rawhide that aired from 1959 to 1966. This is a great song to know if you’re planning a trip that involves major hiking or long distance driving.

Travel 50’s Song #9. “Bali Hai,” one of the songs in the 1958 movie version of the Broadway musical South Pacific, calls to the allure of island life that promises dreams come true and an escape from a troubled world. I’ve been to small islands in the South Pacific near the very spot where Sgt. Calley had his fleeting moments of love, happiness and peace. Who doesn’t have a Bali Hai in mind?

Travel 50’s Song “10. Frankie Ford sang Sea Cruise in 1959. This rollicking number became a top-20s hit and has been sung in various versions ever since. Whether it makes you want to take a cruise is questionable. There’s no question that it may inspire you to dance.