Bangkok, Thailand. Truly, one of the greatest cities on Earth. An incredibly activated, gritty, and layered street level combined with an imposing array of modern skyscrapers, unbelievably good street food, friendly folks (the Land of Smiles no less), and, semi-regular peoples uprisings. Did I mention some of the skyscrapers are abandoned? Bangkok, to me, is  pretty much as good as it gets.

During March and April in 2010, Bangkok rapidly climbed my personal city ranking system. I arrived in Bangkok at the beginning of a bonafied peoples uprising. The center of the city had been completely taken over by Thai citizens, closing down mega-shopping malls, five-star hotels, embassies, and mass-transit train stations – the city remained in this state for almost three months. Soon after my arrival, I decided there was only one thing for me to do. I looked at Phillipa, and said, “we’re not leaving Bangkok until this thing plays out”.

Not long thereafter, the protests escalated into violent, armed, confrontations. When all was said and done, almost ninety people had been killed, and more than two thousand injured. 

This is a three-part story.

This story, and most of the photos attached, have not been told or seen previously. I visited the Red Shirts controlled area in Bangkok every day for over a month, and was given access to areas that few others were. Not the press, not the military, not the police. Wikipedia has been using some of my photos to document the events of 2010. However, there are far more photos, as yet unpublished. And of course, I haven’t yet told my personal story about the events, the people, and day-to-day life during this incredibly turbulent period in Thai history.

I should preface this article by stating I have no affiliation with any side in this political protest. Simply, I respect the right of all free people to protest. In fact, I will say I am proud of people who take a stand for something they believe in. This goes for both sides. Death is incredibly unpleasant and unfortunate, particularly civilian deaths – of which the overwhelming majority were. I do not condone murder, but I do condone the right to protest.

Ratchaprarop Road in Bangkok is a busy thoroughfare in the heart of Bangkok. Typical of the Bangkok contrast, it is lined with old and decayed shop fronts, street-side vendors, as well as Bangkok’s tallest skyscraper. I’ve returned to Bangkok several times, and find myself drawn to this part of the city.

In March 2010, a few minutes walk from the Hotel I was staying at on Ratchaprarop Road, UDD “National United Front of Democracy Against Dictatorship” protestors known as “Red Shirts” began erecting sharpened bamboo and car tyre barriers, effectively controlling entry to one of the most glamorous sections of Bangkok. Police, Military, and certain other citizens and tourists, were denied entry to this part of the city.

Strategically, the Red Shirts methods were perfect – erect barriers at just a few key points, using the bridges that cross the rivers, as well as a few main roads, and a section of the city is cut off. This is what occurred – the Red Shirts blockaded a section of Bangkok that is often referred to as the “center” of this sprawling city.

The intersection known as “Ratchaprasong” became home to thousands of Red Shirt protestors. On this intersection, there is the famous Erewan temple, the five-star Sheraton Hotel, a Louis Vuitton and other designer retailers, and a typically enormous Bangkok shopping mall. Overhead, multiple concrete Skytrain tracks loomed – access to the elevated Skytrain platforms was also shut down. It was a well-chosen intersection, making a clear statement as to who was perceived to be in control of Bangkok - a city of over ten million people.

Is Anarchy too strong a word to describe what was happening in Bangkok?

Within the Red Shirt controlled area around Ratchaprasong, a new way of life developed. People were clearly setting in for the long haul. With military-like procession, trucks arrived with ablution facilites onboard. For the large population that moved in, meals were provided, as were bottles of water. Not to mention Red T-Shirts, flags, and other paraphernalia.

A large stage was constructed in the middle of this show-case intersection to deliver political addresses and rally cries. I have read various estimates of how many Red Shirts moved in to the Ratchaprasong area – the smallest estimates are in the tens of thousands, some estimate up to 100,000 people attending rallies.

Although I am no expert, I can safely say I saw thousands of people who were living in the area. In an underground carpark, I saw hundreds, if not thousands, of people “urban-camping”. Where once there were shoppers cars parked , tents were erected, and mattresses laid out. Power leads were snaking across the shiny concrete of the multi-story basement car-park. Every bit of spare undercover space was transformed into temporary accommodation. At night, people were sleeping everywhere.

This was an incredibly surreal experience. I have never before witnessed, nor imagined, such a large part of a modern capital city captured by one group of citizens.

Phillipa leaving the only shop that remained open, a single 7-11

At first, I entered the tightly held area with Phillipa. At this stage, it was almost a carnival-like atmosphere. Despite the smiling faces, I could tell that people were angry. But, at this early stage of the protest, I could feel a sense of optimism. There were a handful of tourists amongst the thousands of Red Shirts, but as time went on, as the tensions built, the tourists became fewer, until there were practically no other “outsiders” within the area.

In the Red Shirt controlled area, I was wary – but felt safe. Food and bottled water were always offered to me, however, I would head to the one and only shop remaining open in this busy part of Bangkok. After all other shops had closed down, a lone 7-11 within the borders of the Red Shirt controlled area remained open, somewhat oblivious to what was building on their doorstep outside.

The Tourists Began to Leave Bangkok

As the days passed, I checked in regularly to see what was happening. Amongst the staunch happiness, a feeling of impending disaster began to grow. A growing number of protesters were bringing a large and contained part of Bangkok to standstill. For several weeks, commerce in the heart of Bangkok was severely effected.

Tourist numbers had plummeted, more hotels and embassies closed, and almost every country on Earth issued an advisory not to travel to Bangkok. The city as a whole was beginning to feel the detrimental effects, and the Thai Government was now publicly outed as being ineffectual in dealing with a people’s takeover in Bangkok – one of the largest cities on Earth.

It’s All Downhill From Here – Bangkok Dangerous

On the 9th April, 2010, an amazing spectacle occurred. The Red Shirt organisers had decided to take the protest around the city of Bangkok - to leave the controlled Ratchaprasong area en-masse.

  Thousands of motorcycles and scooters, trucks filled with mega-phone touting protesters and leaders, and pickup trucks blasting Thai music and messages of protest. Many of the main arterial roads of Bangkok came to a stand still, as the lengthy convoy snaked its way through the city.

I said to Phillipa that this day would mark a terrible turning point in the protest. The Thai government would not stand for this. It was clearly embarrassing. Things would take a grim path for the worst, and soon. I explained that up until this point, I felt that she was safe visiting the Red Shirts “compound” with me.

Not anymore.

Things were about to get a whole lot worse.

Next : Part Two: the most incredible photos from the entire protest – the Red Shirts leave Ratchaprasong en-masse, taking the protest to the streets of Bangkok.

PS, this story is part of my “catch-up” here on Yomadic, to document some of the incredible things I saw on my last 6 month journey. In just a short amount of time, I am off to explore the world, on my longest journey yet. I would love for you to follow along, with the free email list. 

Another trademark Yomadic metaphorical picture. This one from Banyuwangi, East Java, Indonesia.

Not so long ago I journeyed for six months, with Phillipa, through three continents and a bucket-load of countries. It was a test. A fun test to be sure, but a valid method of providing real experience to know that long term travel is for me. It’s not for everyone. Is it for you? Well, just give it a go, you’ll soon find out. As the six months drew to a close, we were both in total agreement that we should “just keep on going”. Travelling felt great. It felt right. Alas, real life awaited. Since our return, we have spent the last 6-12 months preparing ourselves for a longer journey. Fortunately, it’s going to take me years to see all that I want to see.

Less prescriptive, more descriptive. That was the advice I got this week, in my weekly email and twitter round of “pestering people who’s journalistic and photographic work I admire”. It’s good advice. Really good advice. It’s not that I don’t have good, prescriptive, travel advice to give. My travel experience is extensive by some measures (I must be well into a hundred+ visits to other countries), and yet by other measures, I’m inexperienced. Apart from my home country of Australia, I have never spent more than three months straight in any other country. I still have a lot to learn about the world. Top Ten travel lists, I can do. Opening up about myself, and explaining why I’m doing this, and describing what I’m feeling, I’m not so great at.

Here on Yomadic, I’m still searching for that happy medium between providing advice about travel in general – and what parts of me I need to share with you, in order to make this story more complete. I’m searching for that balance every week, until I nail it. You may be planning your own journey, you might be neck-deep in the middle of your own adventure, or maybe you’re daydreaming about that “one day” when you get your turn (hey, we’ve all been there). Either way, Yomadic is for you. If you don’t get anything out of this blog, then there’s really is no point in me continuing. Learning about the world, and about yourself, is Yomadic’s raison d’être.

I know long term travel is for me. Now, I’m in the preparation-for-departure stage. No, this isn’t an article about “this is what’s in my backpack, this is how I booked my ticket, this is…”. I’ll save you the time reading a bunch of other articles about packing, with another Yomadic Two-Step-Program™, on how to pack for long term travel:

1. Put your things in a backpack. If you find you have too much stuff in your backpack, take some stuff out, and donate it to a local charity.

2. If you forgot to pack something, buy it on the road. They have shops all over the world these days.

As for the nuts and bolts of how I prepare for long term travel planning? What happened to me as I slept last night, may help give you an insight to my methods.

Last night, I had a dream.

A travel dream.

There was a crescent-shaped bay, white sand, a shore dense with palm trees, and salty turquoise water. The most fantastic tropical paradise. Without thinking, I just jumped straight into the water. It was deep enough to dive far underwater, and I felt the perfect warmth of the sea. I came up from under, I looked around, and saw Phillipa in the water next to me. She was smiling, a content smile, as if she knew what I was going to say. I knew she didn’t know where she was. And, I had no idea where we were either.

I was confused. I looked up at the sand, and saw a black man, smiling, peaceful. Immediately, I thought, I must be in Africa. I had this overwhelming feeling, that this was the world’s most perfect location. In my dream, I knew I was in a dream. I knew, I was dreaming about this location, because in the awake world I am in the middle of my travel planning. But, I didn’t know where I was. This was paradise. Perfection. I could even smell some seafood being grilled further down the beach.

“Hey. Wassup. Um, where am I?” The man on the sand smiled. He nodded. But, he didn’t answer. I repeated my question, growing more and more desperate each time. I needed to know where this location was. But, he wouldn’t tell me. Finally, he laughed, and said “you don’t know where you are, mon?“. I managed to explain to him that I wasn’t actually “there”, that I was dreaming, and he needed to tell me where I was, before I woke up. It was crucial that he tell me, and fast. I could feel myself waking up.

Finally, he said it. “You’re in Mozambique, mon”. The rest of the dream was a strange mish-mash of reality and google street view, trying to pin-point the precise location of the Mozambique beach. I never found it. But, when I awoke this morning, I looked at Phillipa and said “we’re going to Mozambique”.

And that, is pretty typical of how I plan my travels.

I have the first destination figured out (it will be revealed soon). I’m going to spend about a month there, and then move on. It’s not Mozambique. I have another country decided upon, that I’ll be heading to by the end of the second month. Absurdly, the distance between the two countries, is over 18,000 kilometres (11,000 miles). Obviously, there is a lot in-between. But, by not defining a beginning, an end, or even a “home”, the journey will remain spontaneous and more than likely, more interesting.

These past few weeks, I have a swirl of feelings and emotions. There is guilt. Nervousness. Excitement. At times, it can be close to overwhelming. My guilt, I would need a psychologist to explain to me. I have always had enormous empathy for the “underdogs” in life. I’ve seen what it’s like to live poor. Really poor, as in $1 a day poor. It’s not great. So, I have these feelings of “why should I get to go on this amazing journey, when others have life so rough?”.

I’m really not entertained by money, I have dreams of having nothing but the shirt on my back at some point in my future life. I’m one of those people who wishes he could fix the entire world. I don’t believe war, hunger, or violence, are requirements of the “modern” world, and it’s time we sorted that out. Oh, trust me, I have only begun to rant. I have strong and unwavering opinions about money, government, religion, and I’m not afraid to push a few buttons when I feel the urge. Stick around, I can’t hold this in forever.

The nervousness and excitement sits hand-in-hand. There’s nothing in specific I’m nervous about – it’s just a natural human response to the unknown, and not having answers to even my own questions. Most nights, when I lay down to go to sleep, a few thoughts swirl in my mind, and then I’m out like a light. But, about once or twice a month, for the last few months, it takes me hours to get to sleep. On those nights, I’m thinking about what a great time I’ll have, and where should I go to. I also dwell on financial considerations, much to my annoyance.

But not once, not in the slightest, have I felt anything other than complete commitment to the journey.

Try and be nice to people.

Avoid eating too much fat.

Read a good book every now and then.

Get some walking in.

…and try to live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.

Nate

PS, I’m very glad I didn’t dream about Somalia, that could have introduced some safety issues. Later this week, I’ll show you exactly what happened last time I ignored safety issues. It’s a little post I call “Guns, people’s uprisings, Phillipa gets sent back to the hotel, and Nate gets run over by a Motorbike”* 

*title to be confirmed.

PPS, If you would like to follow along on the journey, here’s the tip:

Bratislava, Slovakia. Like the red-headed step-child in the middle of a three kid family, Bratislava is cruelly overlooked. Nearby city-siblings Prague and Vienna get all the glory, and Bratislava, apart from a short period in the naughties as a stag-party favourite, just doesn’t attract the same number of tourists.

Hardly off the beaten track, Bratislava is located geographically in the dead center of Europe, and only 34 miles from Vienna. The city has a rich and complex history (both ancient and modern), females known for having the most atypically “model like” features on Earth, hearty cuisine, and diverse architecture. Including many amazing examples of 1960′s and 1970′s Soviet architecture.

Soviet Architecture is Not So Hot Right Now

I should preface this article by saying, I’m probably not going to win many Bratislava converts. Personally, I am a fan of modern Soviet architecture. With elements of brutality and modernism, and a pinch of dystopia, Bratislava has a unique collection of buildings and structures that represent a by-gone era that wasn’t so long ago, and yet, is now strangely foreign and distant. Most people just aren’t fans of this style, modern Soviet architecture is seriously not in vogue.

Prominently situated in prefect juxtaposition to the 1000 year old Bratislava Castle, is the 1960′s “Nový Most” – the worlds first, and only, asymmetrical suspension bridge and UFO tower nightclub restaurant. Formerly known as “The Bridge of the Slovak National Uprising”, Nový Most, or “the New Bridge” crosses the Danube from down-town Bratislava.

Perched on a two-legged tower, the metal clad Soviet designed 1960 UFO stares menacingly at the array of classical buildings across the river. It’s scary as hell. Not due to the appearance, but, due to the shaking. It moves. It sways. The bridge, the UFO tower, nothing feels solid. The very fibre of the bridge, concrete and steel, moves  so erratically I found myself grabbing anything I could, just to keep my balance.

More than once, as I watched the fast-moving Danube River flow under Nový Most, I didn’t think I would make it across. Creaking and groaning, I thought this inevitably would be the day the spectacular bridge and UFO finally comes tumbling down.

After a shaky journey though the leg of a UFO, to a viewing platform 95 metres above Bratislava, I had a pleasurable day-dream of crashing to my death atop a brutal Soviet tower in the heart of Europe. I would be taking photos all the way down, with the spectacular backdrop of old Bratislava on one side, and about a million cookie-cutter Communist apartment blocks on the other – and, I would do anything for that moment. ANY. THING.

Bratislava contains one of the densest areas in Eastern Europe. “Petržalka”, clearly viewable from atop the UFO tower, an area the size of a few football fields is home to more than one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants.

Built on a former Hungarian concentration camp, Petržalka has been called “The Bronx of Bratislava”. Countless identical Soviet-designed towers do an admirable job at blocking sunlight for all those who inhabit the Stalinist reminder. Another tourist summed it up, somewhat crassly : “what a shit hole it must be living out there”. Ironically, Petržalka did look pretty in the rain.

The local Slovak Radio station of Bratislava, is a giant pyramid. Built upside down, and taking twenty-seven years to complete, the building is one of the most inefficient uses of money and space in the history of architecture. To my eyes, it’s incredible. But, I can’t help thinking that it was quite a huge effort, just to house a radio station to blast out a few hours of government propaganda each day.

Nearby, is the worlds largest Post Office. Contextually, the Post Office is a behemoth. A brutally modern Soviet administrative building, positioned opposite a virtually abandoned park, a park almost entirely clad in marble, now cracked and covered in graffiti.

Inside the Bratislava post office, there is the unique escalator. You may have seen one of these in the movies. A conveyor belt drags small wooden platforms up and down the building. It never stops. Never. You just hop on, one person at a time. No door. No rails. Then, jump off when you feel like it. What happens when you reach the top, and the platforms turn around and make the return journey, upside down?

Anyone considering a visit to Bratislava, can, for the moment, stay at Hotel Kyjev (pronounced “Kiev”). A masterpiece of Soviet architecture, sadly, the entire block is due to be demolished. Constructed in 1970, the Hotel remains almost unaltered, with funky organic furniture, an overdose of wood panelling, and bullet holes in the door of room 1212 (long story, I was in room 1210 next door).

Once the Bratislava main-stay for visiting government workers, and even the occasional capitalist pig from the west, Hotel Kyjev is now a little tired, but remains 100% authentic to the Soviet architecture aesthetic. Frankly, the hotel building, and adjoining shopping complex are one of the architectural highlights of Bratislava.

UPDATE:  Hotel Kyjev Bratislava has now closed down. Sorry, I can’t recommend another Hotel in Bratislava, but you will be guranteed the cheapest Bratislava hotel prices at this link.

I visited Bratislava last year, during a failed attempt to make it from Singapore to Oslo overland. Currently,  I’ve quit my job, I’m packing up my life, and I’m preparing for perpetual travel. If you would like Yomadic spam-free updates sent to your email, pop your address here:

I hope you enjoyed reading about Soviet Architecture in Bratislava – a very unique and special city, and one of my favourites.

Nate.

PS – about this last photo: Phillipa is standing in heavy rain, on a very dreary Bratislava day. The Slovak Technical University is in the background. The park was slippery and dirty, the marble cladding is broken and decayed, and the area was deserted. Romantic, no?

Bonus trivia : Bratislava and Vienna are the World’s closest Capital cities.

Street Photography Tips, On a Travel Blog?

Yomadic is a site primarily about travel destinations, not street photography. However, as travellers, we have the perfect opportunity to showcase a city. A series of photos, creating an unknown story about the people who, after-all, are what really makes a city special, can make for a compelling and unique perspective on travelling through a foreign land.

Photo Series : 24 Hours on The Streets of Hong Kong, by Nate Robert.

You can smell the city, in a good series of street photographs. ”Travel” street photography can be artistic and informative, giving the viewer a genuine insight to a destination or location.

Great street photography taps deep into the human condition. At it’s best, street photography piques your emotions and curiosity. You may even find yourself caring about the strangers portrayed in good street photos.

But, frankly,  street photography is one of the most difficult types of photography to do well. How do you make a seemingly “normal” and non-remarkable street-scene, interesting? How do you get the confidence to take photos of strangers? There are also other concerns, such as the “right” to take photos of strangers without their permission.

I’m a relative beginner with this type of photography. Sure, I may be able to take a nice sunrise photo at Borobudur, or get a memorable image of an abandoned Cambodian jungle temple.  But street photography – as a means of showcasing travel destinations - has a whole new set of considerations.

This article is aimed at beginners, like me. Indeed, in my opinion, I’ll be a street photography beginner for years to come, and will absorb all the street photography tips I can get, for a long time. I hope you get some use out the tips below…

…if you do, or if you have taken a series of street photos featuring a  certain location in your travels,  I’m happy for you to link to your work in the comments.

Street Photography Tips For Travellers

1. Just take the photo.

It can be more than a little intimidating, taking photos of complete strangers in public. The reality is, most of the time, people really just don’t mind. Many are flattered. You might be surprised how many smiles you put on the faces of your strangers. Just take the photo!

Don’t be sneaky. Don’t hide. But, when it feels right, don’t hesitate – take the photo. That “decisive moment” will come and go, very quickly.

2. Interact, and capture the interaction.

There is something special about an image where you can see the subject engaging with the photographer. Capture that interaction, whether it’s a smile, or a scowl. When you can feel interaction in a photo, natural human curiosity takes over. What happened next? Was he pissed off? Why is she smiling in that way?

Interact, and talk, with your subjects. More than once I’ve made a new best friend whilst out taking street photos. If somebody asks “why did you take a photo of me?” I’m honest and direct with my response. This has led to strangers actually thank me for taking their photos. As a traveller, street photography is a fast-track to meeting locals, and getting local advice.

3. Daytime is easier than night.

There’s a rich street photography history of producing some very dramatic images using a flash, and at night. I don’t want to discourage anyone, but perhaps consider getting some experience during the day, before you move onto night shots.

As with all photography, the biggest factor is light. Street shots at night can look spectacular, but the use of a flash is a level above in difficulty. he reality is, daytime is easier. Shooting during the day, it’s likely that you will get more “keepers”, and this will encourage you to go back for more.

At night, you’ll often need the use of a flash. Keep in mind, you are taking photos of strangers. Do you feel comfortable firing your flash at strangers, often at close range?  Not to mention, in many cities, day time is safer. That’s just reality.

4. Work on a Street Photography Project.

A project, or a “photo essay” will serve multiple purposes. It can take the viewer on a virtual journey of a city, or highlight a certain societal aspect. Also, it will keep you motivated to shoot more photos, and really, that’s the best way we all get better at street photography.

As a traveller, finding a theme is easy. “Business-Men of Tokyo”. “Tourists in New York”. “Flea Markets in Penang”.  Go for a walk around the neighbourhood your hotel is in,  and capture what you see. Whether you’re in the thick of a metropolis, or hangin’ in the ‘burbs, you can create an interesting photo series, right on the front doorstep.

Although a single image can have an enormous impact, a series of images can tell a whole story. Also, it gives you a chance to “curate” your own work, and choose about which images will/won’t make it into the final cut.

5. There are no rules to Street Photography.

Really, no rules. There may be guidelines, but I suspect even many of those are quite flexible. Find your own style, shoot your own way, choose your own subjects. Exposure, focus, sharpness, these are just technicalities. With street photography, it’s all about the end result – the image – and not how the image was created..

You don’t have to use a certain camera. You can use film or digital, black and white or colour. You can take photos of whoever you choose to take photos of, in whatever surroundings and locations that you choose. Your photos can be candid, or they can be posed street portraits. In fact, you don’t even need people in your photos, to make it “street photography”.

I would say the location should probably be the streets. In public. But even that isn’t a rule. None of the  street photography tips in this article should be considered “rules”.

6. And, the Most Important Street Photography Tip – Have fun.

This is the key street photography tip. Have fun with it. Talk to people, take in the sights, slow down, and take a look around. When you’re travelling, street photography should be a completely enjoyable experience. Don’t take this too seriously, treat it as any other form of photography – capturing images of what you get a kick out of seeing, and having fun while you’re at it.

About the photos above:

As a traveller, I wanted to give you a feel for the people and the streets of Hong Kong. The Hong Kong hustle.  This series of photos were all taken last month, during a 24 hour period. I wanted this series to feel raw, authentic, and honest, and smell like roast pork. 

So, what do you think? Do you have any street photography tips, or stories from the streets of  your travels?

PS, pop your email in here, and you won’t miss my next article.

PPS, Oooh, I said *10* street photography tips? Here’s the truth. There’s only 6… I was trying to sound “authoritative”.  Yes, the Internet is a crazy place.

When I took this photo, I was lost. Now, I'm still lost. Somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains, Romania.

The last epic journey I attempted, I failed. My plan was to travel overland from Singapore, to the Netherlands, where my dear old mother lives. The fine-grain of how I would actually accomplish this, I would figure out along the way. I did enough research to realise that 3 – 6 months would be a realistic timeframe, for my style of travel. Slow travel. A few days here, a month there. Even then, that would really be pushing it. But who am I to scoff at 6 months of travelling? I had never spent that long in continual movement, in my life.

Six months later, I had visited 25 countries, from Indonesia, to Norway, and many points in-between. Mostly, overland. Mostly. However, there was a big chunk of the world that I flew over. I missed India, Iran, and a whole host of countries that were on “the list”. What is important, is that I had the time of my life. Even more importantly, I had failed to accomplish what I set out to do. Now, I had my excuse. An excuse, to commence another journey. Not that I needed an excuse, my feet were born itchy, and I definitely have the genes of a nomad.

Life changing months lie ahead for me. In private, and with Phillipa, the shy and better looking half of my life, I’ve been calling the next period of my life the “New Deal”. As with Franklin D. Roosevelt’s 1930′s American reforms (don’t worry, this isn’t about Politics), the goal of my New Deal is to create a new, better, dream-catching life. A life full of travel, bacon flavoured champagne, and a black silk cape with “Yomadic” stitched on the back in thread spun from pure gold. Not that my life has been bad so far, on the contrary, I’ve had a roaring old time. I feel fortunate, and privileged, to be where I am today. Maybe even a bit lucky.

But, there’s a movement afoot. The quit-your-job-and-skyve-off-around-the-world-forever-movement. I’m part of that movement. In fact, I’m applying for position as assistant ring leader. I’ve quit my job, and I’m currently preparing for the journey ahead. I don’t accept that a job is anyone’s mission in life. Your vocation might be, but your job isn’t. No, stop arguing with yourself, it’s not. There’s a big difference between a job and a vocation. 

Quitting your job and travelling the world, is “sexy”. It’s “cool”. Like anything that is sexy and cool, it has a bunch of buzz-words associated with it. Digital Nomad, Lifestyle Hacker, Location Independent Warrior. Many of the terms are a bit manly, a bit masculine. That’s fine – if you’re the type that responds to promises of riding a V8 Jet-ski all day, fuelled with pure Unicorn sweat, for simply working four-hours-a-week, good luck to you. Be epic, etc. However, I have noticed a common tendency for books and websites to gloss over the reality of life, promising totally unrealistic lifestyles.

My advice is, you don’t need a lot of money to travel the world, or to be happy in life.

Want the travelling lifestyle?

Just work hard, eliminate all of your debt, and spend less than you earn.

That’s good advice. Really good. But, it won’t help everyone. What if you only earn $2 a day (I have a friend in Cambodia who does)? Hmm.

Before I get to the point, do you know how many people made fun of me, for failing to get overland from SE Asia to Europe? None.

My goals were out in public, I had told many people of my plan, and I had failed. And still, nobody made fun of me, criticised me, or laughed at me.

It’s no big deal. I’ve failed before and I’ll fail again. Nobody goes through life without failing. Everybody fails. Sooner, or later.

However, many, many people go through life, not following their dreams, due to fear of failure. Thats another thing I just can’t accept.

Failure is so hot right now. Everyone is doing the fear-of-failure-dance.

I’m trying to make the music stop, so that we can all get our New Deal.

We could all use a New Deal. Travel, is my New Deal. It’s my Unicorn sweat powered Jet-ski ticket to Epic-ville. It might not be your New Deal, that’s cool.

The most important thing, beyond money, beyond your lot in life, beyond everything else , is right between your own ears. There is one truth you need to start with, in order to get the lifestyle you want:

Everything you can imagine, is real.

The truth is, it all starts with what you believe is possible.

And, at this point in the life of Yomadic, as I sit here listening to soul music, that’s about as deep as I can get. Today, on the 27th April, 2012, Yomadic celebrates a 3 month milestone. I decided before I started Yomadic - “I’ll give it 3 months, and decide then whether to continue or not”. It’s an easy decision. I love doing this. I love the feedback, I love that I have already inspired people. I love that I have already pissed off a “travel blogging superstar” (or two), by not sticking to their advice… …advice including “don’t bother starting another travel blog” …seriously?

I would like to offer a genuine, heart-felt, thanks, to those who have shared some great advice, in private, and in the comments here. And, to all who are following along. I hope to catch some of you in real life sooner or later. For those who haven’t joined the email list, do me one favour? Join. It’s free of charge, and free of spam:

Here’s to the next 3 months!

Nate.

PS, I will endeavour to occasionally show you more of “me”, and add some continuity to Yomadic. It’s been a bit all over the place, and I understand there are questions that some people are dying to know the answers to. Those answers are coming. Some have already been answered, in the subscriber emails.

PPS, the “17 Reasons Thing?” Trust me, list posts may suck, but they make for great headlines. There are no 17 Reasons, sorry for being cheeky. ;)

Amiens Cathedral. The Cathédrale Notre-Dame d’Amiens. religion. Love it or hate it, there is no denying that some of the greatest architectural feats on Earth, were inspired by, paid for, and built in the name of, religion. Amiens Cathedral is no exception. Constructed almost eight hundred years ago, the Catheral over-looks the river Somme, in the Picardy region of France. Apart from handsome and bald star-ship captains, Picardy, in the North West of France, is home to some of the worlds most stunning gothic churches and cathedrals.

UNESCO world heritage listed, Amiens Cathedral has the highest interior volume of any Cathedral in France. In the high stakes game of French Gothic architecture, Paris comes off second best to Amiens, and the Picardy region. This house of worship is enormous.  Indeed, you would need over 200 million litres of Chateueux Latour ’45, to fill the internal space.

The Tallest Complete French Gothic Style Cathedral on Earth.

The Cathedral interior, with or without a glass of wine, is spectacular. The stone-vaulted nave extends to over 42 metres, making it the tallest complete Gothic Cathedral in all of France. Seat of The Bishop of Amiens (fun fact : Bishop Jean-Luc, of Picardy), the interior of the cathedral could comfortably house the entire warp-core reactor the Federation Star Ship Enterprise.

Amiens is a typically stunning French town, with historical ties to Australia, my home country. In 1918, the Australian Army Corps played a crucial role in The Battle of Amiens. Fought for a week in the area surrounding Amiens, this battle culminated in the armistice of the 11th November 1918 – the end of World War I. Six thousand Australian soldiers lost their lives in this battle, during a War that claimed thirty-five million lives. Australian soldiers played a key role, in bringing an end to one of the deadliest conflicts in human history.

Amiens, as an ANZAC Reminder

Today, in Australia and New Zealand, is ANZAC day. A day of national remembrance. Initially designated to remember the battle that took place in Gallipoli, Turkey, it now broadly commemorates all of those Australians and New Zealanders who fought during World War I. Australians understand that our armed forces have played a part in many wars around the world, over the last hundred years or so. The finer details, such as the role the soldiers played in bringing an end to World War I, is not as widely known.

Australia has never fought a war on home turf. Our domestic history, is war free. Travelling to Amiens gave me a concrete and permanent reminder of the history of war and religion. Unfortunately, history shows that where there is religion, war is never far away. Amiens played another role for me – reminding me that not only am I long way from home, but ironically, that the world is an incredibly small place.

I’ve never understood war. I believe this is as much due to the era I live in, as well as the place. I’m a pacifist. However, what I do understand, is that there have been some truly horrendous and terrible episodes in history. I also believe that we should learn from our mistakes, and seek out all options, before resorting to violence and war.

Amiens Cathedral has become a personal symbol to me – a symbol that reminds me, never to forget.

Nate.

PS, in Amiens, I stayed in the ANZAC hotel, ate Leek Pies, and Macaroons. As you do.  Bonus – if you click that link, you’ll get the best booking price, guaranteed. The ANZAC hotel is centrally located in Amiens, and offers great value. You’ll be eating Leek Pies and Macaroons before you know it.

Street Photography Australia. I call this one "Two Cute Cats".

Would you like something to do this weekend? How about a street photography project? Wherever you are, in the middle of a bustling metropolis, hangin’ in the ‘burbs, or relaxing out in the country, go and document it. There’s a photo-essay waiting to happen, right on your doorstep. Taking photos of people in your vicinity, you’ll get to know the neighbourhood, like never before. I’ve been doing it a lot lately, just cruising around the favourite parts of my home city, seeing what’s up. Remember, a stranger is just a kidnapper you haven’t met. Joking!

This photo was taken outside the Perth Institute for Contemporary Arts (PICA), during a kids festival. The somewhat cheeky performer was calling out to the kids “WHO… LOVES….READING!!!” Cue the screaming kids – “MEEEEEE!!!!”. A photo of a street performer, posing rather than candid, is not normally what I look for in a photo, and it’s been done to death. However, this one seems to work.

Street photography is about finding interesting ways to document the ordinary. A fleeting moment in time, a happy interaction between two strangers. And, a nice background tying it all together is always a bonus.

Photo Friday’s Are All About Short Posts, Right?

I have a nice lengthy article coming very soon. Jam packed with photo’s, advice, and entertainment. In fact, there will be two more articles in the next few days, as Yomadic is about to celebrate it’s three-month birthday. This blog is just a youngster, but, wow, it’s growing fast. I’ll tell you all about it, very soon.

Today, there are two things you can do.

First, sign up for free email updates. You won’t want to miss the next couple of posts – one is incredibly informational, the other, a lot more personal. Email address, here:

Second, pick up a copy of my favourite bargain photography book – “Getting Out of Auto”. It’s suited to anyone looking to move beyond the “auto” setting of your camera. It’s an eBook, so if you have an iPad, a Kindle, or a nice laptop you like to cozy up with, it’s ideal. Filled with amazing tips, and practical examples, it genuinely is a secret weapon to rapidly improving your photography, no matter what camera you have. More info here.  

Looking forward to the weekend?

Yep, me too.

Nate.

PS, if you have a link to some street photos you have taken, feel free to let me know in the comments below. Get out and about, and show me what’s up in your part of the world!

PPS, Perth’s streets are not “mean”, in fact, they’re downright friendly.

* the title of this photo is “Two Cute Cats”. An homage to Charlie Kirk, an amazingly talented street photographer who goes by the name “Two Cute Dogs”. Charlie was incredibly helpful this week, allowing me to pester him on Twitter with questions about the use of Flash in street photography. So the least I can do, is point you at Charlie’s work.

It’s not Paris Syndrome, I’m just not that into London. And, I just don’t want Yomadic to go three months without having at least one negative article. Warning: here it is. Sure, there are bigger targets in life than London. But, the fact remains, in my humble opinion, London’s best tourist attraction is its proximity to Paris, and the other grand cities of continental Europe. It’s a popular theme, ask anyone about why they love living in London and odds are “you can travel to Europe so easily” will be high on their list.

Paris Syndrome is a most interesting mental disorder. It’s a genuine illness, mostly suffered by Japanese people upon visiting Paris for the first time. The Japanese embassy in France reports that around twenty Japanese tourists each year are afflicted. Paris syndrome can result in hallucinations, delusional states, dizziness, sweating, and an inability to discern differences between the various species of Tuna. The Japanese embassy even has a 24hr hotline for Japanese tourists suffering Paris Syndrome, and can provide emergency hospital treatment if necessary.

Paris Syndrome is Like Culture Shock, Only Funnier

Akin to culture shock, Paris Syndrome is a particularly Japanese phenomenon, due to the idyllic pedestal on which the Japanese put everything French. Stemming from the popular mid-century Japanese love-affair of the French capital, Paris developed an image as impossibly beautiful and exciting, filled with fashionable, cultured, and friendly Parisian denizens. When Japanese tourists are confronted with the reality that Paris has a population that doesn’t speak Japanese, are indifferent to tourists from any nation, aren’t all models, and that idyllic Paris is just another version of a major metropolis with all the societal ills that entails – a small number of Japanese freak out and come down with a case of the Paris Syndrome.

This is not what has happened to me, during my most recent visit to London. Indeed, my realistic expectations were met fair and square. Going in, I knew I would find a city filled with residents of questionable dental hygiene, a cuisine known predominantly for sausages and pasties, and architecture that can sometimes rank amongst the most brutal that humans have ever conceived. Despite spending time exploring and photographing these obvious high-lights, I’m still not smitten with London.

Around 1 in 5 of England’s richest citizens are seriously considering moving to another country, so I’m probably not alone in my crazy opinion. For the British population as a whole, “almost half” are dreaming of blue skies, Vitamin D, and food a little more exotic than Lamb Shwarma. A life where they can send their kids to the corner store, without worrying about them being mugged for their iPhones. Understandably, Australia is number one on the destination list. Perhaps “Sydney Syndrome” will be a new 21st century ailment affecting British migrants? The odds of Sydney Syndrome becoming a reality are very high – trust me, it’s not all Ramsay Street and Summer Bay down under. And with that analogy, I just lost 93% of my US audience.

Matt Knepes, a travel blogger currently famous for streaming episodes of twilight from every country in South East Asia as well as being a Dave Matthews super-fan, hates Vietnam. Hates it. Despises Vietnam, with a passion. Matt has vowed never to return to Vietnam, ever. Why? I have no idea. In any case, Matt has Vietnam, I have London. We all have one city or country we have been to, that we just didn’t feel. United, in “meh”. We’re all different. It’s not as simple as unmet expectations, or Paris Syndrome. The reasons as to “why?” aren’t important. The reasons are often inexplicable. The important thing is that we recognise that not everybody has the same opinion as each-other. And, as Matt eloquently demonstrated, that we’re honest about it when telling the public via our blogs.

Maybe I should give London another go. If or when I do, it will be my fifth visit. It’s kind of inevitable, being an Australian, who does more than his fair-share of travel, that I will end up in London again, sooner or later. For Australians, spending time in England AKA “the mother land”, has long been a traditional right-of-passage. In the 21st century, it seems that writing a travel blog is the new right-of-passage. Fortunately for me, you found this blog.

Almost three months ago, I entered the world of travel blogging. A world where people strive to live in hostels for as long as possible, scrap over complimentary Room-a-Rama certificates like seagulls over chips, and will do just about anything for twenty-five-bucks. I’m taking it three months at a time, and with Yomadic, the first three months will soon be up.

I’ve already sold my house, and quit my job. By the time the next three months is up, I could be anywhere. I’m currently preparing to travel around the world, with little research, and a rich personal history of ridiculous travel decisions.

What could possibly go wrong, apart from a small dose of Paris Syndrome?

I’ll be writing about the journey here – the good and the bad, warts, and all.

I hope you enjoy my gloomy set of photos from old London town. Black and white film, of course. Writing this article has been cathartic. I actually think I’m ready to head back to London, and try to dig a bit deeper this time. In theory, it has everything I look for in a city. It’s huge, filled with cultural institutions, has an incredibly interesting history, and yet continues to bang-up-to-date and contemporary. Maybe, I just haven’t found the sites, the sounds, and the stories, that suck me in to the famous London lifestyle vortex.

Paris Syndrome is one of the more interesting travel phenomenons. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced it. Even in London. Of course, I don’t hate London. That was just a catchy title I thought up, in order to get a few more English to read this article.

In fact, London has a special place in my heart – after all, it’s the city that makes me dream of Paris. ;)

Nate.

PS, please, tell me why I’m wrong about London, and why I should head back. If you’re a Londoner, it is your duty to leave a comment! DEFEND LONDON! ;)

PPS, please, don’t set your watch according to the regularity of my posts. You’ll be eternally late. Pop your email address in below, it’s easier. No spam, ever.

Oslo, Norway. On May the 17th 2012, Norway National Day, tall beautiful people will meander about the city, wearing finely tailored suits and elaborate milk-maid styled costumes. The sun will be shining, the sky will be blue. Out in the Oslo ‘burbs, lush green parks complete with rolling hills, rivers, and waterfalls, will be filled with people, eating BBQ and playing ancient games of Nordic skill. They may even make use of the robotically cleaned, electronically controlled, solar-powered, public toilets – designed by Norwegian modernist master architects.

On May the 17th, in down-town Oslo, the King waves from the balcony of his Royal palace, to his very happy mignon passing below. Beside the central train station, in an area full of minimalist mid-rise towers standing alongside centuries old ornate Scandinavian structures, people openly trade heroin.

Giant female Police-women ride bicycles around the city wearing tight hot pants, and spend most of the time having a friendly chat with the locals. Welcome to Oslo, Norway, on Constitution Day – the National Day of Norway, May the 17th of any given year.

There is an efficient Nordic routine underlying this annual pantomime. Long ago, the appropriate customs for May 17th were established. National Day will begin with the consumption of “Rømmegrøt”, a deathly thick traditional porridge made from sour cream, and, sour cream. Preparation of the impossibly thick, white, concoction is undoubtedly a work-out for the body, and eating Rømmegrøt is a serious stomach blocker.

Thankfully, an accompanying glass of “Aquavit” or “water of life”, a local tipple that clocks in at 500% alcohol (or so it seemed), cuts through the mass of butter, sugar, and cinnamon covered porridge. Not to mention the cured meats, that Norwegians believe make for the perfect Norway National Day breakfast.

Norway National Day is Somewhat Surreal 

Oslo is a spectacular city. CBD sights include a modern Opera House, completed relatively recently, which has the appearance of a building sliding into the scenic waters of the Oslofjord. Cleverly designed, visitors can hang out atop the vast geometric roof, and absorb some near-Arctic sun-rays.

Just across the way, cruise ships stop at the same downtown Fjord, to replenish supplies, whilst stunned tourists disembark to wander the streets. Occasionally, Barrack Obama or Nelson Mandela will stop by at City Hall, to pick up a Nobel Peace Prize. The sidewalks are made from pure gold, are heated, and are three feet thick.

People move about Oslo, a city of only half a million, by train, subway, trams, buses, and publicly available bicycles. When driving, an extensive city road network tunnels in and out of the earth, through ancient hills and mountains. Immigration is high, and the curries are spectacular.

“Bunads” = Traditional Norway National Day Attire

On May the 17th, the Norwegians make a point of dressing up and showing just how absurdly attractive they are. Women and men don “Bunads”, elaborately decorated and finely crafted folk costumes, which more than once made me assume that I had somehow travelled back in time. Without a flux-capacitor in sight, I spent May the 17th wandering around Oslo, mixing with the locals, and having my jaw continually being pulled up from the ground below.

The people here, no doubt about it, are simply stunning. With an average height of “quite tall indeed”, it’s hardly necessary for Norwegians to wear fantasy costumes to add emphasis to their incredibly fortunate genetics. However, Norwegians are nothing if not ruthlessly, but understated-ly, patriotic.

Negatives? Oslo is expensive. Really. Expensive. You may think that London, Tokyo, New York, Paris, or Copenhagen is expensive. They’re not. No examples are necessary, lets just say, I’ve been to all of those cities, and when it comes to cost, Oslo wins hands-down. Daily budget for the average tourist? A lot. Current exchange rate? One of your dollars equals not very many Norwegian Kroner.

A misinterpreted negative : the people aren’t rude, per se, but I guess they’re a bit straight-forward. I like that. When I can afford to laze around on a multi-million dollar yacht parked in a fjord downtown in an Nordic city, drinking Dom Perignon andAqua Vit, wearing a ten thousand dollar tailor-made milk-maid costume, you know what? I’ll be a little straight-forward as well. I’ll wear my flashiest sunglasses, I’ll stand on the bridge megaphone in hand and sing the theme to The Love Boat. A group of dow-eyed Norwegian Milk-Maids will swoon at every dulcet note. I have forgotten what my point was, but, I’m sure it was logical and well thought out. Much like Oslo.

Norway Constitution Day, May the 17th, Every Year

Other Norwegian negatives include having too many friendly and attractive young Swedish girls looking for employ at Oslo Bars, having a national store of wealth that could buy three-quarters of Africa, and there is that nasty problem of simply too much Oil. Norway is “white peoples problems”, incarnate. Lest I be misunderstood, I should mention, Norway has an incredibly diverse and generous immigration program, with all the colours of the rainbow represented on the streets of Oslo.

In any case, Oslo is a city close to perfection. My kind of city. I really can’t overstate this conclusion. Excessive wealth, does have it’s charms. I would call Norway the 1% of Nations, but then, that sounds a little…jealous.

May the 17th, Norwegian Nation Day, Constitution Day, is THE day to visit Oslo, and Norway. Every year, if possible.

Nate.

PS, you’ll need a Hotel. If I had an affiliate link, I would totally have it right here.  Instead, check out my secret photography weapon. It’s how I learned to take great photos, even with a very cheap camera. I got out of auto, you can too.

To read more about “Norway Constitution Day”, here is a link to Wikipedia.

The Hong Kong trams are one of the most surprising “tourist attractions” in Hong Kong. During the weeks I recently spent in Hong Kong, I spent hardly any money at all. Not out of choice, although, I have known to be “wise” with my dosh, at times. A one week holiday is not one of those times. One week is for cutting loose. For partying like a fool in a Kowloon ex-pat’s bar, staggering out at 5.30am, one shoe missing, losing your phone and discussing Hong Kong politics with a friendly posse of hungry homeless men.

Or… so I have been told. In any case, one week is not for budgeting. Fortunately, the Chinese have a dandy custom of not allowing guests to pay for a meal. I tried to pay. Oh, how I tried. After witnessing boisterous groups of Chinese men coming to physical blows over who would get the “privilege” of paying for a group meal, I decided to just go with the flow. It occurred to me that many of the attractions I visited in Hong Kong were either free, very low cost.

One of the plain-sight-secrets of Hong Kong is the tramways. I spent the best part of a day on the Hong Kong tram system. Eating Michelin star Dim Sum for peanuts, and now seeing some amazing sights, for an absurdly cheap price? My hip pocket has a serious travellers crush on Hong Kong.

Get Around on A Hong Kong Tram. It’s Old School.

One of the earliest forms of public transport in Hong Kong, the iconic double-decker Hong Kong trams have been operating since 1912. The Hong Kong tram system commenced around 1904. Stretching from one end of Hong Kong Island to the other, grabbing yourself a seat at the front of the tram, on the upper level, is better than any Hong Kong documentary you have ever seen.

From Glitz, to Grit, and Back Again. A Typical Hong Kong Tram Ride.

I can’t go back to TV. When you can have the somewhat surreal views of bustling Hong Kong gently flowing by, you can’t go back to TV. On this voyeuristic journey from Kennedy Town to Shau Kei Wan, the well worn layers of the city unfold before your eyes. Just sit back, and casually glide on through. Maybe take a few photos.

From glitz and designer labels, through to the grit and authenticity of local neighborhoods, typical Hong Kong daily life is viewed from a unique perspective, perched above the crowds. If you’re getting a bit hot, the sliding windows of the tram can be pushed open. Handy for great for photos as well.

The Hong Kong tram ride costs $2.30HK. That’s around 30 US cents. For as long as you want to stay onboard. Enter at the back, exit at the front. Simple. Pay as you jump off. An Octopus Card (which you can also use on the subway system, the ferry system, and to buy a drink at 7-11) is the easiest method of payment. You can also pay your tram fare with coins (no change).

There really aren’t a lot of tourists on the tram- hardly any in fact. This is one relatively undiscovered Hong Kong tourist attraction. Astoundingly, most tourists to Hong Kong have seen these trams, but haven’t jumped onboard. The subway is faster, and more familiar to most visitors to Hong Kong, but you will see a lot more from the tram.

You can’t get lost – most of the stops are near a subway line, or you can always just hop off and catch the next tram back to where you started. I hopped on and off various trams, and journeyed from one end of the line (Kennedy Town) to the other (Shau Kei Wan).

I have never visited Shau Kei Wan before. Right near the tram terminus was a fantastic outdoor market, where I enjoyed some freshly cooked BBQ pork (with mustard), whilst observing the other “foods” for sale – such as a bag of live frogs. The tram is certainly a guaranteed journey into discovering the real Hong Kong.

The Tram Ride is A Genuine Hong Kong Institution. 

Having visited Hong Kong a number of times before, I am kicking myself for not previously taking advantage of such a seemingly obvious way to discover the island. The photos in this article, all taken on single journey from a Hong Kong tram ride, will give you an insight into what you can expect – but really, every journey will be different.

There aren’t many places on Earth you can journey from one end of a city to the other, high above the ground, but right in the thick of it all. Next time you’re in Hong Kong, give the subways and taxi’s a break, and make use of the historic, and rather practical, Hong Kong trams.

Riding the Hong Kong tram is a very memorable, and unique, Hong Kong experience, that any tourist, on any budget, can afford.

Nate.

PS, photos like these don’t require an expensive camera. You just need to know the secrets, and to how to “get out of auto”. This is exactly how I do it.