Worldwide with Wee Cheng : Bangkok Notes: Home Nearer Than Ever Before – Bangkok, Thailand

Home Nearer Than Ever Before

18 DEC 2002
Here I am in Bangkok, City of Angels, after a ten-year absence. This was not meant to be a discovery of sorts, but a mere stopover on my way home. Yet, the city amazes me with the drastic changes that have taken place, and with the great hospitality my wonderful local friends have provided. From a planned two days, I have stayed six.

Vast changes have occurred in spite of the 1997 pan-Asian financial crisis that Thailand hasn’t fully recovered from. The first thing I noticed was the level of cleanliness. Ten years ago, one saw rubbish everywhere. The previous mayor ordered a cleanup of the city and enforced laws on littering – you actually risk a fine if caught littering.

Thai tourism has also gone upscale. Sex tourism, formerly a big part of the Thai tourism industry, is long gone. The country has since successfully promoted itself as a haven for eco-tourism, as well as cultural tourism. I remembered on my previous visit, every ten meters on the streets of Bangkok, a taxi or tuk tuk driver would ask if I was interested in a massage or a woman (both are the same thing, really). Six days since my arrival and no one has approached me.

Previously, a Thai holiday would mean dealing with numerous touts and arguing with less-than-honest tuk tuk drivers or vendors. The country had a sort of “wild east” image. All of that has changed. The country is orderly, and the service industry has improved significantly. Dishonest characters, which are found in any country in the world, have to be a lot more discreet for the tourist police is never far. This is what we call development.

People also seem to dress much better these days. Dan, my London friend whom I met in Bangkok, told me about the flip-flop index. Years ago, a lot more people wore sandals in Bangkok. Now they wear sports shoes. He also noticed that many snack vendors have disappeared. I guess that whilst this is somewhat regretable, being part of a nation’s heritage, the process is unavoidable. As income levels rise, it becomes unprofitable to produce and sell certain products. Customers want cleaner food and a better eating environment. This is the process Singapore and other countries have gone through. It is happening in Thailand too.

Thailand is moving steadily ahead despite existing problems in the economy and politics. Like all Asian countries, Thailand faces enormous challenges going forward. It needs to restructure its economy to deal with the rise of China’s economic might. Whilst Thailand has succeeded in providing universal primary education for its population, many young people do not move on to higher levels. This impedes the country’s ability to move up the production value chain. Thailand has to reshape its economy dramatically in order to stay afloat. I wish it success in its efforts.

The hottest thing in Bangkok right now is the King’s book about how he adopted the stray dog, Thongdaeng, its loyalty and values. Oberservers say the book is a veiled criticism on the current government and state of affairs in the country. The book has become a bestseller and the order list for it is incredibly long. Local papers also talk about how people come from the provinces to queue for hours to buy T-shirts with the pictures of the dog, with many returning empty-handed and angry, because they were sold out so quickly. If there is anything that has remained the same, it’s the Thai people’s love and respect for their King.

My American writer-friend and nomad extraordinaire, Rolf Potts, has just published
Vagabonding: An Uncommon Guide to the Art of Long Term World Travel. “Vagabonding” is about taking time off from your normal life – from six weeks, to four months, to two years – to discover and experience the world on your own terms. National Geographic Adventure writer (and veteran shoestring traveler) Rolf Potts shows how anyone, armed with an independent spirit, can achieve the dream of extended overseas travel. Find out more about his book at vagabonding.net.

21 DEC 2002
Newsflash: WeeCheng in KL, Heading for Singapore Now
After a long overnight train ride to Butterworth in northern part of Malaysia, I took another bus to Kuala Lumpur. Have been staying the last 2 nights in this ultra-modern capital of Malaysia, savouring the (surprisingly expensive – same price as Singapore) gastronomical delights of Chinatown KL. I’m now at Puduraya Bus Station, about to take a 5 hour+ bus to Johor Baru on the border with Singapore. The one-year odyssey is coming to an end soon. More later, from Singapore.

Digital Backpacker 2000

October 2nd: Eyes say it all
After clearing customs it is clear from the first moment that I’m in a different country. The roads look like the surface of the moon except that they are filled with mud and water. The further part of the journey to Siem Reap we sit in the back of a pick up truck. There are no lights along the way, the headlights of the truck show men carrying long poles and nets trying to catch beetles high in the air. They serve them on plates to travelers on their way, just like they serve the cockroaches and fried spiders. Yummy!

In Siem Reap a Cambodian lends me his bike without charging money for it, another man gives me a coconut and doesn’t accept money for it. I’m surprised. I try to reach a Vietnamese fishing village, but the flooding makes it impossible. The people are used to living under these circumstances, most of the houses are built on stilts. I need some time to find out where the local people eat in town, the center is filled with the kind of restaurants and bars that I’m not looking for.

Visiting Angkor Wat was one of the highlights of my trip till so far. After Henry Mouhot published his “Le tour du monde” in 1860, Angkor Wat became known to the world. I left at 5 am with a hired motorbike to photograph the sunset above Angkor Wat. Many policemen and soldiers are present in the area, they make it a safer place to visit and take care that nothing gets stolen during the night. Tourists don’t need an armed guard to visit remote temples nowadays. The policemen try to sell their uniforms to tourists, but who would want to walk in an uniform like that? At the Bayon temple more than 200 faces looked icily down upon me, the shadowplay in the early morning makes it a fascinating sight. Sculptures of 12th century rural Cambodia appear on the lower part of the temple. The jungle trying to get back what mankind took from it makes me think that I’m walking in a lost city.

In the pick up truck to Phnom Penh I meet the Swedish teacher Janne (www.skolmappen.com, for the ones that can speak Swedish, visit the link “På luffen med Janne i Asien”). For the second time travel is like hell, several times the road has to be cleared in front of us. Big trucks stuck in the mud, water reaching high above the tires of our truck. Local villagers find a way to improve their income, they rebuild the bad parts of the road and ask money for it. Our driver gives it to them, he pays the police as well.

Phnom Penh is a huge city, parts of it remind me of Saigon. “Please don’t bring your gun on the schoolgrounds” says a sign at the entrance of a high school. We walk to the Tuol Sleng museum, a former high school transferred in 1976 to a security prison. The first building shows rooms with one iron bed in them, on the wall a photograph of a dead or dying prisoner, often with a large amount of blood under the bed. In another room a huge map of Cambodia is made out of human skulls, we find a box full of bones and skulls in another room, a piece of hip in a small room where we weren’t allowed to come. So many pictures of numbered prisoners on the walls of other rooms, I can’t keep my eyes off some of their faces showing despair, fear, resignation, and some of them pride. “This place gives me the creeps!” says Janne.

The next day we visit the Killing Fields, 15 km outside of Phnom Penh. Walking over teeth and fragments of bone, some of the mass graves are left untouched. Pieces of clothes that reach the daylight, a huge memorial contains over 8000 skulls clearly visible behind a glass panel. Killing children by hitting their heads against a tree. I’m speechless, this should never happen again, but history keeps repeating itself. We don’t seem to learn from it.

We go out a couple of times, in Sharky a sign says “Beware of pickpockets and loose women”, I don’t know what “loose women” are, they sure seem very friendly to me.

The road back to Poipet is infamous I hear later, it’s been called “the dancing road”. Our first pick up driver was probably a near relative of Michael Schumacher, as if we were sacks of potatoes he drove over the potholes. At least he could have treated the car a little bit better; I was totally relieved when the car decided it was time for a long break, no matter what the driver wanted. We changed trucks two times, the second had 15 people in the back, among them our smiling faces, and eight in front of it. A baby puked his mother’s milk shamelessly around him. His older brother, trying to compete peed. No place to rest my feet. Feet everywhere, people everywhere, I felt pain, cramp and there’s nothing I could do about it. Another woman felt that it was time for her to puke, Janne got some sweet stains on his T-shirt as a souvenir from her. Pain everywhere, a sore bottom. One guy had the courage to call a pick up ride in Cambodia “great fun!” Must have been a ***ing lie.

This pick up trip is my worst travel experience ever.

Laos is already spoiled by tourists, but if you want to visit Cambodia, it wouldn’t hurt to wait awhile until conditions have improved! It wasn’t easy but it was worth going there. People are generally very friendly. They are very poor but to me, we miss something else in Europe what they’ve got…

Expats vs. Backpackers: Why All the Hate?

It’s an inescapable fact in the foreigner scene abroad: a divide exists between backpackers and expats, and the animosity that emanates between the two sides can sometimes be as spicy as Thai green curry. Among the expat community, “tourist” and “backpacker” are often used as dirty words, whereas “expat” can be sometimes be heard with a negative tone amongst backpackers.

Having been both a backpacker and an expat myself, I’ve experienced and observed the animosity from both sides. Both expats and backpackers usually have genuinely solid reasons for any ill feelings that may exist between the two.

That said, many backpackers and expats get along just fine. Indeed, as one expat put it: “backpackers seem mostly like nice kids. I give ‘em lift when I’m going their way.” And many backpackers see expats not as a source of abhoration, but as a source of infinite knowledge about the town or city they’re in.

But one cannot ignore the snide comments, the malevolent looks, the crude jokes, and the general hostility that are often hit back and forth in touristy towns between those foreigners who are visiting, and those foreigners who are staying. Despite the fact that many expats may claim everlasting love for backpackers, the t-shirts hanging in the windows of many shops in backpacker towns proclaiming, “If it’s tourist season, why can’t we shoot them?” would have many believe otherwise.

So, let’s give each side their fair say.

Hey guys, why all the hate?

First, let’s start by defining, just so that there can be no misinterpretations, just what exactly is a backpacker, and what is an expat.

Expat is short for expatriate, which is defined by the Oxford dictionary as a person who lives outside their native country.

The Oxford dictionary doesn’t carry the term ‘backpacker’, but the Macmillan dictionary defines a backpacker as someone, especially a young person without much money, who travels around an area on foot or public transport, often carrying a backpack.

Backpackers Weigh In

The differences may lie in the very different situations that people from each side find themselves in, explains Digby Smith, an Australian who backpacked around Southeast Asia. “Expats can be on a different wavelength due to being familiar with their surroundings and often have other priorities.” Smith also acknowledges that his kind may be to blame: “In party towns and cities, I think backpackers can annoy some expats.” However, he points out that expats are not totally innocent: “I have noticed them to be rude and sometimes a bit arrogant towards local staff,” says Smith.

Backpacker Scott Gibson, originally from Canada, is a little more blunt when it comes to his feelings about expats. When asked how he feels about them, he replies simply, “not a huge fan.” He explains why: “they tend to want to share their infinite wisdom of a place with you in a very condescending way. As far as males go, I think it’s pretty pathetic to move somewhere so you can be with a woman normally out of your league because of your money.”

Johan Falk, who hails from Sweden, has been backpacking for over a year. “I feel sorry for most of the ones I’ve met in Southeast Asia. It seems like most of them are here for one reason: boom boom, except for the ones that work with dive shops or running a serious guesthouse.” Falk says he feels that most expats tend to have an I-was-here-first attitude, making other travelers feel unwelcome. All this being said, Falk qualifies that often these expats are the exception to the rule: “I’ve met so many nice expats willing to offer their time and help.”

Expats Get Their Say

Expats, of course, have their own take on the situation.

Anne-Marie Drozdz, an expat living in Vietnam, had one particularly off-putting experience with backpackers when she was living in Turkey, and went on a cruise: “There were 19 ’round the clock drunken backpackers,” she explains. “They were loud and disrespectful towards the Turks. They created havoc on this four-day trip.” Drozdz also explains that she felt animosity from those same backpackers when they discovered she was an expat, living in Turkey at the time.

Drozdz gives her take on the possible reason for expat animosity towards backpackers: “Expats have a deeper knowledge and understanding of the culture, language and customs of the host country and when they see backpackers barreling in for a few hours and being disrespectful or whatever, then maybe that causes resentment.”

Nicole Hill, who lived as an expat in Central America, says that expats have every right to make a stand when backpackers cross the line: “We’re the ones who have to deal with the lasting impression it creates of foreigners, Brits, Americans, whatever. Even if you’re not one of the ‘bad’ tourists, by virtue of the fact that you’re going to be moving on soon, you’ll behave differently to those of us who live and work in places.”

Manis Ender, originally from Germany and living in Thailand, acknowledges that there may be subconscious animosity towards backpackers from expats. “I have no honest interest in them, their stories, or countries they have traveled,” says Ender. “Often they just bore me on the first sight.” Ender goes further to explains that backpackers often give off a bad image, which makes him prefer to avoid them: their dress code, their pack-like behaviour, as well as their ignorant and arrogant behaviour are all things that Ender finds off-putting.

Can’t We All Get Along?

Digby Smith thinks so. He suggests that expats be more mindful of backpackers’ predicaments: “I think that expats can forget they were once new to the area and forget that they may have been in the same position.”

Anne-Marie Drozdz thinks that backpackers should also be mindful of their surroundings, saying that they might take care to “behave reasonably towards the local community and respect the culture.” Drozdz says that everyone – expats and backpackers, should try accepting people “for what they are and respect their decisions to either travel short-term or stay in a country.” (Unless they are pedophiles, she qualifies.)

At the end of the day, it seems that each side has its valid points. The positive side is that both backpackers and expats are able to acknowledge the others’ strengths, and their own weaknesses, which is the first step towards building a strong relationship.

We certainly won’t be seeing expats and backpackers singing kumbayah on Khao San Road any time soon, but if each side is ready to make some concessions, there might be the possibility for a little more love in the world abroad.

The White Desert – Egypt

The Pyramids of Giza, The Luxor Temple, Abu Simbel and the Valley of the Kings, all of these attractions are at the top of everyones must see list in Egypt, but very few manage to find the time to hop in a 4X4 jeep and discover the remote destination of The White Desert.

The White Desert

For one thing a trip to the center of the country must be far too expensive, time consuming and difficult to plan. However, a 3-day trip from the Dahab Hostel in Downtown Cairo can be booked for a bargain price of 450e ($80) per person for 2 nights and 3 days. The trip includes all meals and transfers a visit to the hot springs, a 4X4 ride in the sand dunes that you won’t soon forget and an extraordinary night camping Bedouin style in the White Desert.

A five-hour coach ride takes you from Cairo’s downtown bus station to the small town of Bahariya, the jumping off point for safaris into the desert in Egypt’s interior. The scenery is spectacular. Vast rolling dunes disappear into the clear blue sky for as far as they eye
can see.

By mid-afternoon, the coach arrives at the guest-house where travelers are fed a traditional Bedouin meal of red sauce and potato, with rice, pita and sweet tea. Delicious. Not a lot of time to settle in though, because within the hour, you are back on the road to head to the main attraction.

The Jeep Ride

Make sure to buy a traditional headscarf before leaving the compound to keep the sand out of your face and for added warmth at night, because the next 2 days are filled with extreme climates that will surprise even the most seasoned traveler.

Hopping into the back of a 4X4 jeep, gives a real sense of adventure. Bumping along the road in the intense heat surrounded by sand makes you fell as though you are in an Indiana Jones Movie.

Black Desert

It is not long until you enter The Black Desert, a nice prelude to the forthcoming White Desert. Climbing a high peak you will overlook an amazing desert vista. Black pebbles caused by erosion blowing in from the mountains cover the entire land, turning it to an ominous dark shade.

Making sure to keep with the feeling that you are truly traveling off of the beaten path, you will pass through a couple of security check points with armed guards and road blocks. The thrill is worth it because the instant you are allowed through check point number two, the terrain instantly turns to a white landscape that looked as if a blanket of snow has just fallen on the ground.

The Camp

White monoliths jut out of the sand and become larger and more impressive until you reach your final destination. A campsite surrounded by the most amazing rock formations seen on this planet. Giant pure white sculptures resembling mushrooms, camels and hawks scatter the landscape. Made of chalk, these works of art are formed by wind and erosion. Solid enough to walk upon, yet so fragile that they can flake off with the stroke of a hand.

Stepping Back in Time

Bedouin guides prepare the camp putting up traditional walls made of thick material. They cover the ground with woolen blankets and start a fire to keep you warm. Three colorful walls surround the camp to block the wind with the front open to the fire. The shelter remains roofless to reveal the starry sky and everyone huddles together to settle in for a thrilling evening in the middle of the Sahara Desert.

Bedouin Camp

Day two starts with a hearty breakfast and then it is back to Bahariya for an unforgettable 4X4 adventure through steep dunes. The ride is long and full of excitement as people are tossed about hitting heads on the roof, but laughing through the entire drive. The hot springs are a welcome change to the high-energy thrill ride.

The day ends with a hike up to a high plateau for one final look at the desert landscape and to take in that final view of the mythical Sahara Desert. It may not be the most popular trip on an Egyptian itinerary, but it is certainly the most thriling and spectacular, giving unique memories that will rival any adventure that you will experience in your life.

Egypt’s Grand Canyon

Sculptures in the Desert

Solid, yet Fragile


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How I Travel: Don Wildman

Don Wildman: Tireless Explorer

Don Wildman has crisscrossed the globe as the host of the History Channel’s Cities of the Underworld. During its three-year run, the show filmed in over fifty cities across five continents. Along the way, Don went underground to visit ancient Grecian aqueducts, tombs of the pharaohs, and the churches of Ethiopian saints. Previously, he hosted ESPN’s Men’s Journal, CNBC’s Ushuaia: The Ultimate Adventure and The Travel Channel’s Weird Travels.

He is currently developing new shows, while also writing a book recounting his adventures. Online he can be found at http://www.history.com/cities-of-the-underworld.

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My parents subscribed to the idea that travel should be cheap and involve the woods.

I didn’t stay in a hotel or board a jetliner until I was a teenager. In the days when gas was 25 cents a gallon, we drove everywhere and stayed in campgrounds, preferably ones with clean bathrooms (but that never stopped us). I remember the day my Dad bought our Nimrod tent-trailer from some guy for $300 and a handshake. I can still see that “things are never gonna be the same again” look in my Dad’s eye. Boom, we were off.

I inherited my father’s ordered, pared-down priorities.

For him, it was about packing. He arranged the trunk of the car as a system of honeycombed grocery bags. Into these bags went all non-perishable food and clothing and if it didn’t fit, it didn’t go. I do the same now with my suitcase or duffel. To me, travel means freedom. Freedom means lack of burden. I travel a lot in my work and each time I go I try to leave something else behind. One day it’ll be the suitcase itself…and then I’ll finally be a happy, if incomplete man.

A portrait of a happy man

I prefer to feel as if I’m not traveling at all.

Wherever I am, I try to immerse, as if I live in the place I’m visiting even if I don’t know the place, any people, or the language. I’ll arrive and take a few walks just to get myself nice and lost. When I’ve found my way back to the hotel, I know the streets better than any guidebook could tell me.

The misconception about travel is that we need to know so much.

We just don’t. We need to know what makes us happy and opens our minds. We need to understand culture. That our lives are more than four walls, a driveway, and a backyard. Sometimes that takes one Paris arrondissement, not six and not every landmark in the guidebook either. Sometimes it’s not using a guidebook at all.

My strongest travel influence is Bruce Chatwin or anyone who enjoys getting into trouble when traveling.

It’s the glitches that make you remember life and, certainly, travel – the attempts that failed, the trains you missed, the lines you didn’t stand in. In this regard, I don’t think there’s much difference between travel and life. If you head into both expecting a good time any way it goes, you’re already enjoying yourself.

All of that is easy to say, though, when you wanted to see the Uffizi, got up too late and missed your chance…

A painful memory.

Don under Coptic Cairo

When I’m working I travel constantly.

We pile up 4-6 trips onto each other for budget reasons. I’ve gone from Ethiopia to Egypt to Turkey to Australia in one 8-week swing. So work, for me, is travel and vice versa. Thus, if I still want to call myself a “traveler” – and I do – I have to be determined to get mine, nonetheless. So I’ve gotten better and better about grabbing a day here and there to slip off with no one in-tow . I do this by train, scooter, or bicycle. Not car. I just go to see stuff if and where I can find it.

I am a terrible romantic about travel.

I believe that I should emerge from any journey having drunk much wine with many women late at night, danced to frenzied music on river barges or wandered the dusty stacks of old, un-touristed book stores. Basically I’d like to be traveling in a movie with Audrey Hepburn. Alas, this is not available to me so I must set my expectations a bit lower, especially on my schedule.

When I arrive in a new place, the first thing I do is find a cafe, library, or park in which to write letters to important people in my life.

I have a binder filled with personal stationery and I head to this location at some off-peak moment to sit down with a beer and jot things down. There is simply no better way for me to absorb the world around me than to record it for others. It forces me to take things in. But the best part of this exercise is finishing the letters then walking them to a post office to stand in line with the local population and buy stamps. And off they go. I love the fact that somewhere in the United States my friends are receiving pieces of paper I sent to them in foreign lands. Just as radio is still utterly mysterious to me, Air Mail can make my day.

My travel style is loose.

I want to feel like I’m not traveling. I’m never going to see or do everything in the world (or the guidebook) so best to concentrate on what matters most to me. Criteria? That which makes me grow. I figure I can suss a place out in about three days’ time. One, to walk around, two, to see some sights, three days to feel like I live there. Then I can leave, preferably in my own cabin on a train. Which reminds me…

Always travel in “3’s.”

Three is the magic number for everything in my life. Probably has to do with the Trinity or something. As applied to travel, the Rule of Three is incredibly efficient. You’ll never understand a place for real in one or two days but you could in three. Same goes for hours. Break up your day in blocks of three’s and you’ll always have enough time to enjoy anything and still manage several different experiences. But not too many! Less is more – in travel and life. Pack your suitcase in 3’s and you’ll have just enough clothing but not too much. If you do a load of laundry every three days it’s nothing but fun (coin laundromats get you very, very local).

Don with an Ethiopian pal

It saddens me when people have unoriginal experiences, when things are packaged.

Then again, I don’t have a workaday career or limited vacation time. If I did I might want more guaranteed pleasure. But I see Americans piling off of buses or gathered in groups in hotel lobbies and wonder if they’re getting much of what it was they thought they paid for.

I like to listen to local radio.

Television is worthless in any land as it is the bland-same as sitting in my own home. CNN, BBC, and ESPN. But I can tune a transistor radio to something local and tinny and be the same as a cab driver or a kitchen worker.

I do look forward to going home.

Because if the travel was good, it makes home that much sweeter.

In the back of the van

Travel should be like life – and life like travel.

The point is, in a perfect world it should be one and the same. My everyday life with the people I know and love should be as lively and enlightening as traveling can be so automatically. But of course it’s not. Sadly, I’m as bad as the next guy at living ordinary life in an extraordinary fashion. So, travel is always there to notch me up to the next level, where I ought to be living all the time. And if I put enough good trips together in the years I have left, I might actually live the life I was destined for.

“How I Travel” is a new BootsnAll series publishing every Tuesday in an effort to look at the unique and diverse travel habits of some of the world’s most well known and proficient road warriors. Got ideas for who we should talk to? Drop us a note.

You’ll find links to all the “How I Travel” articles on the How I Travel archive page, you can become a fan of “How I Travel” on Facebook, and you can follow the @howitravel profile on Twitter to get updates as soon as new features in this series are published.

all photographs provided by Don Wildman and may not be used without permission

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How I Travel: Johnny Jet

Johnny Jet: Rocket Man

Believe it or not, Johnny Jet used to fear flying. Now he seems to spend the majority of his time in the air. Born John E. DiScala, the Connecticut native first made a name for himself as an expert at collecting frequent flyer miles. Over the years, his wildly popular web site has also developed into a travel journal of sorts, in which he shares his musings from the road—along with tips for travelers to get the most from their own trips. As a travel writer he has published his work in a wide range of outlets including USA Today, COAST Magazine, MSN and Outside.

Besides JohnnyJet.com, Johnny also founded the sites AirlineNumbers.com, CarRentalNumbers.com, CruiselineNumbers.com and HotelNumbers.com which have the numbers of the companies featured so that you can speak to a human if booking online doesn’t work for you. He also created AlternateAirports.com, which helps travelers save money by pricing tickets to nearby airports. He can be found on Twitter at @JohnnyJet.

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My first travel memory was riding in the back of the station wagon with my brother and sisters driving up to Canada.

It wasn’t much fun since there was no GPS. My dad was horrible at directions and he wouldn’t listen to my mom. I often wonder if they would’ve fought so much if we had today’s technology.

Johnny and friends in Kyoto

I have a crazy travel style.

I’m usually staying at some of the world’s swankiest hotels (since those are the ones that can afford a PR firm) and I’m popping around cities, islands and countries like a pinball. I’m rarely at one hotel for more than 3 nights but I’ve adjusted to it – I think I’m ADHD anyway. When I’m traveling on my dime I find the cheapest possible mode of transportation, and can usually score a nice place to stay but for cheap. I’m good at finding deals. Real good!

It’s weird when I’m home in Manhattan Beach I usually don’t want to leave even when I’m going somewhere exotic.

But the moment I get on the plane – I usually don’t want to go home. It’s crazy. There are times when my fear kicks in and I don’t want to travel but then I think about all those poor people who are living vicariously through me because of their own health or financial conditions so I just put a smile on my face and realize how lucky I am.

Everyone thinks that the plane air is unhealthy but it supposedly has better filters than in a hospital.

I rarely get sick (knock on wood) and the reason why is because I make a conscious effort not to touch my face with my hands. I spend 30 seconds wiping down my surroundings when I first get on a plane (tray table, controls, seatbelt, overhead compartment bin…), or rent a car (steering wheel, radio…), and of course my Hotel room (knobs, handles, remote control, light switches) with one of those anti bacterial wipes. That does the trick!

Flipping out in South of France

I rarely research a place I go because I like to walk in with an open mind.

I usually only find out the currency exchange is, what plug adapter I need and the best way to and from the airport. I rarely carry a guidebook anymore but if I do – it’s Frommers (I write for them).

I don’t really have a favorite place to go – I seem to like them all.

But I could definitely live in Sydney, Hong Kong and anywhere in Europe (in the summertime).

Taking a daily walk on the beach with his dad in Florida

The oddest thing I ate on a trip was a live grub worm in New Zealand.

A Maori took me hiking and showed me what I could and couldn’t eat. Here’s the story and video .

It all depends on the country but I usually stay away from street food…

unless it’s really busy with locals.

Johnny at the Taj Mahal

The first thing I do when I arrive at a new place is hit the ATM.

Then I go to my hotel and drop my bags off so I can go for a walk and check out the surrounding area. If it’s real late at night I will check email and take a hot shower before jumping into bed so I can get on local time. But that usually doesn’t work too well because I’m so excited to be somewhere.

Everybody’s body is different. For me I try to get on a local time when I get on the plane.

But I usually can’t sleep well on planes and I don’t take sleeping pills. If I arrive in the morning after a long flight I do my best not to sleep. Instead I go out in the sun for a long walk and if I have to sleep I nap outside for 20 minutes and then try and stay up to 11pm. If it’s raining and cold then I’m screwed.

I never leave home without…

…my laptop (Toshiba Portege), Blackberry and … Here are the other 14 products.

Be nice to everyone and be courteous.

Johnny's mother was his favorite travel companion

Best thing to do if going to a foreign country is to read about their customs.

A great book on this is Kiss, Bow and Shake Hands.

Pack light and don’t check bags.

You can be so much more flexible and you will save a ton of time which in turn will make your trip that much better.

With a 'good kitty' in South Africa

Right when I get home from a long international trip the first food I usually get is Mexican.

Because you can’t get good Mexican food out of the country except in Mexico and I don’t go there too often.

I grew up in Connecticut and have always been fascinated with air travel.

Even to this day I cannot believe these metal birds can get off the ground and carry so many people to such far distances in such a short amount of time. When I was younger, it blew me away that I could leave the freezing cold Northeast and be in hot and sunny Florida in just a couple hours.

My greatest travel secret is to be nice to everyone…

…especially the gate agents and flight attendants since they can make or break your trip. I almost always bring them a box of chocolates.

Island of Taha'a in French Polynesia

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“How I Travel” is a new BootsnAll series publishing every Tuesday in an effort to look at the unique and diverse travel habits of some of the world’s most well known and proficient road warriors. Got ideas for who we should talk to? Drop us a note.

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all photographs provided by Johnny Jet and may not be used without permission

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Finding the Irish Language Alive and Well in Ireland

Almost three years ago, I was on a bus heading from the airport in Dublin to city center. As an eager tourist, I listened in politely on the conversations around me, smiling at the jovial ups and downs of the Irish accent. Suddenly, a conversation caught my attention that I couldn’t quite understand. I stared intently, blatantly ignoring all of my manners, and allowed my jaw to drop slightly as I strained to hear just one word I could comprehend.

But no matter how long I listened, I would never have understood. They were speaking Gaeilge (GAYLE-guh), or Irish. No, it’s not a very strong accent; it’s actually a completely separate language. Call me an ignorant American, but I thought the language was dead; quite to the contrary as I find out. Having lived in Gaillimh (GAHL-yiev) or Galway, as it’s commonly known to us Westerners, for the past three months, I’ve had a chance to get much more intimate with the Irish language and those who speak and study it.

History of the Irish Language

Irish (or Irish Gaelic, Gaelic or Gaeilge) is the classical language spoken throughout history by the Irish people. Irish is a Celtic language which has been traced back as far as 1200 BC. The language is an official language of the Republic of Ireland and in certain counties, is still used for official day-to-day use.

The language has seen a tumultuous history, which accounts for the limited use today. During the end of British rule of most of the Emerald Isle, Irish was banned and most native Irish speakers were pushed to the western half of the island. As a result, most of the prominent Irish speaking regions, or the Gaeltacht (Gahl-TACHT) areas, lie along the West Coast.

After what we now know as the Republic of Ireland established independence in 1922, speaking Irish was encouraged (and sometimes required as in the case of certain civil positions and public offices). Though this requirement is no longer in existence, most school children are required to take Irish language courses and speak Gaeilge at least a bit.

Where to hear spoken Irish

You can hear Irish spoken in most of Ireland (including Northern Ireland, despite popular belief) but some places are better than others. As mentioned above, Gaeltecht areas are regions in Ireland where Irish is still the predominately spoken language. In these regions, you are likely to see many signs in Irish (and sometimes exclusively in Irish) and find many restaurants, pubs and coffee shops where Irish is the main spoken language.

Specifically, some towns on the West Coast where you are likely to run into someone speaking Irish include Galway, the Aran Islands (Árann, pronounced AH-ren) and Spiddal (An Spidéal, pronounced Ahn Sp-IH-duhll) which are all in County Galway and Gweedore (Gaoth Dobhair) in County Donnegal (Dhún na nGall, pronounced Dawn-nee-GAHL). If you head into any of these towns you are guaranteed to find street signs in Irish and several restaurants and pubs whose names may look difficult to pronounce. If you ask around, the locals can usually point you in the best direction to hear native speakers.

People of all ages and backgrounds speak Irish. Most children grow up learning Irish in school and therefore often times know the language better than their parents (who may be out of practice unless they speak the language commonly with friends or family). Most places where Irish is spoken regularly, you will find it is intermixed with English and people will often go in and out of using Irish depending on who is around and what the conversation is about.

If you find a group of old Irish men at a pub speaking Irish, this will usually be the best way to experience the language as you can listen in without acting too creepy. Often times, you will find friends walking (for example, along the Salthill Promenade near Galway) and talking and though I don’t suggest following behind to listen in, it is an option. If you’re not in the stalking business, good ways to hear Irish in the western half of the country are to tune into the radio or news.

Raidió Teilifís Éireann (or RTÉ – the National Television and Radio broadcaster) has both a television and radio station broadcasting exclusively in Irish. The radio station, RTÉ Raidió na Gaeltachta, is available on 92-94 FM and has a variety of talking programs throughout the day. TG4, the all-Irish television station, is another place to turn if you’re desperate for some Gaeilge.

If you find access to the television or radio hard to come by, there are still two more viable options for you. The first is to head to mass at one of the local cathedrals. Some masses (again, you’ll have to ask around on this, depending on where you are) will say all, or part, of mass in Irish and most churches will say at least the “Our Father” in Irish.

Going to mass as a non-Catholic is absolutely fine, just follow those around you (sit, stand, sit, stand) or if you’re uncomfortable, stand in the back and watch from a distance. Do not, however, take communion if you’re not Catholic.

If you’re not comfortable in a church (I understand) my last suggestion is to head to a traditional Irish music session. Though hearing Irish is not usually commonplace at a trad session, you will hear great traditional music, and likely will drink enough Guinness to forget you were looking for Irish speakers to begin with.

Finding a trad session is like finding a pub in most cities in the west and most pubs will have a blackboard or a poster on their window saying when they are playing traditional music.

Common phrases in Irish

If you really want to impress your new Irish friends, there are a couple of Irish phrases and words that would be good to learn. The first (and arguably most important) is craic (pronounced crack) which basically means “fun.” You can use it to describe how good a place was (“How was Tig Cóilí?” – “Oh the craic is great tonight”) or also what’s going on (“What’s the craic?”). Once you’ve established where the craic is, and buy your Guinness, you’ll need to cheers your new friends.

The most common way to say cheers in Irish is to say Sláinte (pronounced SLAYNT-chee) which actually means “good health” (similar to the Spanish “salud”). It’s also good to check out how to say the name of the city you’re in before you get there, but tackling pronunciation can be difficult so be careful. Finally, at the end of the night, you wouldn’t want to leave without saying goodbye which is Slán (pronounced SLAHN).

Irish people are proud of their heritage. As a region that has a recent history of cultural oppression, they are eager to share their background and language with anyone willing to listen. Most Irish natives speak at least some of the language, as it’s often a required class in school. Like any language, the best way to get a feel for Irish is to listen to people speaking it and ask questions. Don’t ask them if it’s a “real” language and don’t doubt yourself when you can’t understand a couple of Irish locals bantering away.

Sláinte!

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