Here are the results of my prolific-ness over the last few weeks:

Wise Bread

Become a Frequent Flyer Master and Earn a Free Flight Every Year

Ssshh: don’t bother me. I’m busy doing my Christmas shopping and accumulating enough frequent flyer miles to pay for two overseas flights – in business class. I’m doing it with the help of Frequent Flyer Master: an e-book that even features a “one free plane ticket” guarantee.

United World College: Study Abroad for Way Less Than you Think

Does your high school-aged child want something different? Are they smart, motivated, and looking for new challenges? They may find what they are looking for in the two-year United World College program, which has campuses around the world and coincides with their last year or two of high school. And guess what? For a school abroad, the price tag will have you wondering why you didn’t go there yourself.

Amex Open Forum

How Taking a Sabbatical Can be Good for Business

At a recent TED conference, Stefan Sagmeister — a designer with a busy New York studio — discussed how he takes one year off every seven years. (I encourage you to take the 17 minutes to watch him in the video.) He closes his office down entirely, sets voicemail asking his clients to call back in a year (no kidding!), and enjoys a year to pursue his personal projects and interests. Curiously, despite the time off, his business survives — and even thrives — for it.

Is this even possible? It seems counter-intuitive: for us to take (what some may see as) excessive time off from our businesses in order to prosper and grow? Really?

Yes.

Shout Outs

I was contacted by Sarah at Philly Bored-er Patrol, a university journalism student with ambitions for travel writing. She found me through this Site and contacted me with a few questions if I’d oblige. Of course I obliged, and I’m pleased that I did! Thanks, Sarah, for the interview. Click here to read it!

Related posts:

1. Roundup: December 16-31
2. Roundup: August 15th-September 15th
3. Roundup: December 1-15th

I was recently contacted by a high school teacher in Western Australia, who said her year nine class was doing a project on the 2009 Victorian Bushfires, and having found my own diary entries on the ordeal, asked if I would be kind enough to read and respond to their reflections, as somebody who was in the thick of things.
I was so honoured to be approached, that I offered to publish their reflections, as a tribute to the strength and ongoing support of Australians nation-wide, as we prepare for another summer of unknowns. (Please stay tuned at the end for my own response). Here is what they wrote:

The Victorian Bushfires

During Term Four of 2009 I have been teaching a class of Year Nine girls at Merredin Senior High School in the wheat belt of Western Australia. Using the curriculum as my guide, the students needed to be introduced to the concepts of how to analyse still images. We use a ‘symbolic, written and technical’ code system where the students break down what they are viewing to then apply meaning to the image. To guide them through this process I collected a range of images to discuss in class.

One of those images was Sam (the koala) getting her much needed drink of water during the Victorian bushfires.

That one image sent our class onto a different path of discussion as, together, we learnt more about the devastation and destruction of the fires. I was able to contribute some emotion to the discussion as I lived in Canberra in 2002 when fire ravaged that city. What amazed me with my Year Nine girls was that they were interested, showed compassion and had a desire to want to know more.

Rather than write an essay about a collection of random images, we adopted the ‘Victorian Bushfires’ as our theme and began to look for more images. That was when I came across the website, ‘The Professional Hobo’—that contained an amazing blow-by-blow account of living through the Victorian fires. Again, my students were captivated.

So, we decided on another change in direction. We wanted ‘The Professional Hobo’ to know that people on the other side of Australia were still affected by what had happened back in February. We hadn’t lived through the fires directly, but we were trying to understand the pain, loss, grief and guilt that so many people are still feeling.

What we have created is a whole class essay – where every student has contributed a paragraph – where together we have cried in class and unified our work to symbolise how those communities affected by the fires came together in support of one another. This is our essay…

FROM THE ASHES CAME COMMUNITY SPIRIT

A few weeks into Term Four Mrs Attree came into the class and told us that we would be studying still images. She showed us some photos and one was of Sam (the koala) from the Victorian bushfires. Most of us sighed when we saw the picture. We felt sad as we thought about the poor animals that suffered. When we started asking Mrs Attree questions, we couldn’t stop. We really wanted to know how serious the fires were and what happened. Mrs Attree showed us more images from the bushfires as well as clips and news footage. We were all interested and stunned by what we were seeing. It was sad and heartbreaking to realise what people had gone through. We then looked at a website (‘The Professional Hobo’), where a lady had recorded what was happening as the fires were burning. We began writing a whole class essay to send to Nora. By having us write together, to create one document, we are hoping that it symbolises how the communities affected by the fires came together. -(Chevie)

The devastation of the fires is likely to be forever remembered as a series of facts: they occurred in February to March of 2009; more than 170 people perished; over 2000 homes were destroyed; countless numbers of animals were burnt and their habitat left as ash. Our class is now familiar with the language surrounding the devastation of fires. We also understand that despite these harsh facts and sad language, there was generosity. Those affected by the fires were inundated with donations, help, offers and a shoulder when they needed it the most. We have learnt that Australians pull together when they need to. -(Shanice)

It was actually horrible to see what the people affected by the Victorian bushfires had to go through. To try to comprehend the loss of homes, loss of life and the loss of wildlife and pets is very difficult. What is easy to comprehend and heartwarming to realise, is how many people who had lost everything helped others. The community spirit at that time was phenomenal. -(Ashlei)

As our class was looking at some images from the fires, there was one image that showed a house surrounded by burnt bush land. The house was virtually untouched by the fire. We then learnt that many whose homes had survived feel guilt. It is amazing when one house in a whole row of homes in a town may have ‘survived’ when all others were destroyed. But there should be no guilt felt, it’s not about blame or fault, so there should be no guilt either. -(Lou-Anna)

I have been looking at the picture of a house that survived the fires. It shows how close the fire got to it and how lucky they were that the fire spared their home. If it was my house I would be very glad that it survived. It would have been scary for everyone, but the one who would have been scared the most would have been my little sister. Poor Patricia would have been scared out of her pants! -(Sarah R.)

We were searching through some photos from the fires and came across one of a man standing where his house used to be. It had been burnt to the ground and he was standing in rubble and ash. That man could never have imagined that this would have happened. Our class had never felt like this before; we couldn’t comprehend what he must have been thinking or feeling. We all tried to understand his sadness and possibly his anger. I imagine he would have searched through that ash to try to find something that he could call his own – something that had survived the fire. -(Brooke)

I felt really sorry and sad when learning about the stories of the Victorian fires. It was very emotional for us in the class – let alone those who lost everything. I feel like we have so much compared to those who lost everything. I cannot imagine what it must be like to have to rebuild your home. -(Chevie)

It was really sad when we found out how many people had lost their lives in such a short period of time. When we were watching the news footage and looking at other images – everyone felt pain just seeing the photos. No one could imagine how hard it would have been to hurriedly pack a few possessions in their car and flee. Nor could we imagine how difficult it must have been for the firefighters; those amazing men and women. -(Grace)

These bushfires were a tragedy that affected many people. What we hadn’t realised was that there were so many different fires being fought all over the state of Victoria. Like a broom, they swept through whole townships destroying everything. There was also a sense of generosity when everyone donated money and items—that was heartwarming. -(Bianca & Rachael)

We felt saddened by all the images we saw of the wildlife affected by the fires. One image showed the burnt foot of a koala, where some small parts of pink flesh were visible through its blackened skin. Most of the animals that survived the fires and were healthy enough to return to their habitat couldn’t return. There was nothing to return to. Most of the bush land that was destroyed is now growing back – we hope that it returns to a flourishing bush land filled with wildlife and the sounds of nature. -(Ellie & Samantha)

Innocent wildlife fell victim to Mother Nature’s fury. These animals watched helplessly as their homes and habitats were engulfed by fire. Sam the koala became a symbol at the time of how animals were suffering. She was found by a firefighter after Sam’s home had been destroyed. She had been so desperate for water that she had drunk straight out of the firefighter’s bottle. Sam later passed away – but her story is one that was repeated throughout the Victorian fires in February and March. With so many animals suffering, there were many Victorian services (RSPCA, private veterinarians and nurses, animal shelters) who worked very hard to help those injured animals. So many animals perished and many are still recovering, but how people came to the aid of these animals is a perfect example of how the community came together to address the need. -(Magdalene & Jodie)

We now realise now why our parents were so stunned back in February, as they were learning the facts about what was happening in Victoria. We have learnt that so many who had lost everything kept fighting for their community and friends. We were amazed by the generosity of others as more than $3 million was raised for the victims. While this was evidence that Australians look after one another – it’s a situation that we would never want to see again. -(Zoe F.)

Over the last few weeks my classmates and I have been learning about the Victorian bushfires through analysing images taken during and after the fires. It’s so sad to think of the deaths and loss that occurred. Yet it’s heartwarming to know that over two thousand Red Cross volunteers helped out the people who lost their homes. It’s also heartwarming to recognise that the whole nation helped by giving clothing and making donations – letting the victims know that we care. -(Zoe B.)

The devastation caused by the fires left everyone mourning and in pain. The community spirit and the amazing generosity from around the world helped ease some of the pain. It was heartwarming to learn how people had helped each other at this time of need. I was especially impressed with one image I have seen where a shop owner put a sign at the front of the shop telling people to “Take what you need” over a supply of fresh fruit and vegetables. This was extremely kind and showed the world what a true Australian is like in a time of crisis. -(Shannon)

As much as we’ve tried with our short entries in this document, we understand that no words can really express how awful the Victorian bushfires were. Nobody deserves to go through that experience. The wave of pain over Australia at that time will never be forgotten. The spirit and strength of Australians will also never be forgotten. Please stay safe during this coming summer and support our firefighting heroes – it may be a job to them – but it’s amazing to us. -(Sarah BB)

This is a beautiful collection of reflections from a year nine class, coming to terms with a national disaster that happened thousands of kilometers from their homes, but very close to every Australian’s heart. To have the courage and empathy to put yourselves in the shoes of somebody who experienced something so dramatic and reflect on it is an amazing thing, and is the starting point for great humanitarian efforts and positive changes.

I was one of the lucky ones. I didn’t lose anybody I loved, nor any property during the fires. But there are very few degrees of separation here between the lucky ones and not so lucky ones; we all feel the effects. Thank you so much, Merredin Senior High School Year Nine girls, for your thoughts, efforts, and sympathy for those affected by the 2009 Victorian Bushfires. It is the positive energy and efforts of people like you that will help fire survivors continue to persevere in their efforts to rebuild.

Related posts:

1. Victoria’s Bushfires: Update Feb 10th
2. Victorian Bush Fire Diary: February 8th – DAY TWO
3. Victorian Bush Fire Diary: February 24th – DAY EIGHTEEN

So in May of 2009 when I became a published author, I figured that friends and family from all over would flock to support me in the same way I had supported this other acquaintance of mine. Whoops – I guess I was wrong.

Note: Occasionally, I use this blog as a platform for personal rants. Although this post may initially reek of personal rant, you will see that I use my experience to develop a roadmap for how writers who live abroad can get the support they need. Please bear with me; the negativity has purpose.

My Search for Moral Support While Living Abroad

I was mildly perturbed when I discovered on my return visit home last July/August, how few of my friends had purchased a copy of my book. Plenty of complete strangers and mild internet acquaintances I’d never met ordered copies (some specifically to support me if you can believe it), but none of my close friends did. I eliminated the potentially painful variable of family not getting copies by actually ordering and sending each family member a copy myself. (I’d like to think they would have ordered copies regardless).

Not having the support of my friends struck me as odd and hurtful, but I chucked it up to the fact that copies weren’t yet available in Canada, and maybe ordering from Amazon in the States was too overwhelming. (The book is now available in Canada, by the way – at select stores and online through Chapters Indigo (no – it’s not an affiliate link!) and a few other vendors).

But there’s more to it than that, as I’ve realized on reflection. I have already come to accept the fact that distance breeds apathy in friendships – something that I also learned dissipates when reconnecting in person. I do not expect people back home to get up in arms about things going on in my life while I’m on the exact opposite side of the globe. They have their own busy lives in which I’m not an active participant; I can only expect the same in return. (I will discuss more about how to elicit support from long distance friends later on).

However, my attempts to release certain “friendship responsibilities” (as I see them) from people back home in Canada has meant projecting similar responsibilities onto people physically present in my life abroad – and perhaps unfairly so.

We have a terrific group of friends from a broad spectrum of backgrounds here in Australia. It is partly why staying here for so long has been easy; we’ve not felt so much at home anywhere in the world since leaving Canada. We even have a friend whose parents have become such staunch supporters that they’ve appointed themselves as our adoptive-parents-away-from-home.

Since 10,001 Ways to Live Large on a Small Budget is not yet available in Australia, I painstakingly ordered 20 copies (and paid $150 in shipping costs) to get some for Aussie friends who said they’d love to buy a copy. 20 was considerably more than the amount of people who said they were in for a copy, but since shipping is exorbitant, I figured it would pay off to order more and lower the cost per book. (I figured I could sell 20 copies at cost over the next few months, and the shipping costs balanced out my author’s discount to make it a reasonable price overall).

Although some friends bought the book and others didn’t (or haven’t yet), my world was turned upside down when my adoptive parents didn’t buy a copy. Their reason cited? They might not use all the tips in the book.

Wow.

(Personal Rant: If they had written a book, I’d have bought it, read it, and probably even reviewed it on this Site. If it was crap, I’d have found a diplomatic way to tell my readers that it was written by a friend of mine, and I do everything I can to support my friends – but that the book might not be for everybody. Why would I do all this? Because that’s just what you do to support your friends.

Or maybe that’s just what I do.)

I was crushed when my “adoptive parents” didn’t buy a copy. But on reflection, I realize that it’s not their fault. Any number of variables could be in play:

• In setting up our playful “adoptive parents” relationship, I likely attached too much expectation of actual parental support to them, and hence a burden to purchase the book on them – all of which is unfair to everybody involved.
• They may have expected me to give them a copy for free, and were offended that I try to sell it to them (even if only to recoup my cost).
• There might even be an unspoken Aussie cultural policy around the etiquette of selling your own stuff that escapes me. I’m generally as humble and non-pressuring as possible, but maybe that in itself is part of the problem.

Possibly the biggest x-factor here is that none of the people who have withheld their support thus far in the story are actually writers; nor do they understand the sort of work that goes into writing a book, and the moral support an author requires throughout the process. (And that the moral support can very specifically take the form of buying a writer’s book and letting them know you did).

My Search for Professional Support While Living Abroad

I happen to have another manuscript, fully written. The book is a combination of a travel memoir and educational/reference tool. When I was preparing to send it to agents and publishers, I asked a select group of people (both back home in Canada and here in Australia) to read it for constructive advice, and they agreed.

That was a year ago. Nobody (with one exception, which I’ll get to) read it. Or if they did, they didn’t tell me. The most feedback I’ve elicited is squished up faces, sighs, and promises that they’ll get to it, or have started it.

(Personal Rant: If you agree to read a manuscript, then you read it, plain and simple. If you don’t have time, then don’t agree to read it. Sheesh.)

As a result, I have lost the courage to persevere with the manuscript. I’m convinced it’s crap, and although I still think the concept is sound, if I try to make something of it in the future, it will involve a complete re-write. (I must also note that in the last year I also queried a number of agents who asked to see the manuscript, but said that it wasn’t for them after reading it; this latter group is more instrumental in my decision to re-write, but I can’t deny the painful silence of my other readers as having a big part as well).

Again, I must take the blame off my chosen reviewers in this instance, for the following reasons:

• Very few of my chosen reviewers were the target audience for the book. They wouldn’t buy it for themselves, and so reading it with interest (or at all) would obviously be difficult.
• I wanted honest opinions, but chose close friends/family to give them to me. These people may have found it difficult to criticize the work of somebody so close – especially if they are far away and communication is tough to begin with.
• I didn’t follow up as lustily as I could have. Again, in the name of being humble and unobtrusive on the people I love, I waited for them to take initiative and read it and respond. Maybe they were waiting for me to ask, or to ask more often.
• If I were to be really honest with myself, I probably didn’t want criticism from these people at all; I just wanted them to read it and tell me how fantastic I am. My chosen group was largely my moral supporters, but not necessarily people with the knowledge to help me with the manuscript.

As I alluded to, there is one person – and one person only – who read my manuscript and gave me feedback. He was a fellow author with whom I had exchanged manuscripts for feedback. Although I did this with two authors, it only worked with the author I could meet with in person (possibly a coincidence, but likely not).

So how does a writer living abroad get the support they need? I think that a writer needs two kinds of support, from two groups of people: professional support from writers and people in your target audience, and moral support from friends and family. And I think there are some game rules for both.

Professional Support Tips for Writers Living Abroad

• Professional support will come from other writers (hopefully in your style or genre of writing) who can give you useful constructive criticism on your project.
• Professional support will also come from people in your target audience who shape your writing and key messages. By selecting somebody (this could even be a friend) who is the ideal audience for your writing, you will get the most genuine reply.
• Although nobody likes a nag, don’t be afraid to ask for honest opinions and be somewhat aggressive about getting them. Don’t wait by the phone for feedback – it doesn’t come.
• Professional support can be found online with writer’s groups and forums, but it is best to have at least one professional supporter who you can meet with in person. The quality of feedback and communication of it will be so much stronger. (This can be difficult, depending on how remote, culturally removed, or constantly on the move you are).

Moral Support Tips for Writers Living Abroad

• Moral support will come from your family and friends, and can be as simple as staying in touch by email, Skype, or telephone. Given your distance from home, these are the likely bonds that will hold you to your moral support network back home.
• You can also get moral support from your new friends on the road. The depth of these friendships also depends on how remote, culturally removed, or constantly on the move you are.
• Buying your product isn’t necessarily a pre-cursor for moral support. Sometimes people have the inability (or lack of desire) to buy, but aren’t lacking in support.
• Again don’t be pushy, but also don’t be afraid to ask for moral support, and define what that means to you. You stand a much better chance of getting what you need by defining it, and then asking for it.

I am writing this article because I wonder if there are other writers who live abroad who are struggling for support in a lonely career on the (sometimes) lonely road. Are these good tips? Is this a base for getting the support we need on the road as writers?

What about supporters out there (in general – not necessarily specifically mine): How would you feel as a “moral supporter” for somebody who lives far away? What would you do – or what wouldn’t you do – to show your support for them?

Related posts:

1. Lessons Learned from our "Test Trip"
2. I am a Published Author!
3. Living the Dream: Climbing on the Rooftop of Australia (Mt Kosciuszko)

So without further ado, please use this random list as a guide, and enjoy shopping for the traveler in your life!

Things I Own (and love)

SteriPen

I wrote about the SteriPEN in all its glory, after traveling through Asia for 6 weeks without drinking bottled water. The money (and plastic) we saved was incredible. It has more than paid itself off; every time we use it from here on in is gravy – for our pocketbooks, and for the world (which is already drowning in plastic garbage).

Travel Journal

I have also sung the praises of the Travel Journal in the past, as an awesome piece of travel gear. I may be old fashioned, but there’s something about the plain old pen & paper that brings out creativity. Without my journal at my side, I could not have written the Victorian Bushfire diary, which was archived by the National Library of Australia as a little piece of history.

You don’t have to be as ambitious with your travel journal! Just have fun, and see where it takes you.

Waterproof Bags

As long as you get lightweight ones, these waterproof Dry Bags are great for separating items in your pack. (I like to organize this way, so I don’t have to sift through loose belongings to get to what I need). They take up almost no room, and add additional levels of protection against toiletry leakage or pervasive humidity. We especially like them for our electronics when we are in tropical climates.

Headlamp

Absolutely invaluable to us throughout all kinds of travel have been our Headlamps. They’re compact and light, and so useful in so many ways. I use mine almost every day, and it never leaves my purse.

Pack Towel

Where, oh where would a traveler/camper/outdoorsy person be without a Pack Towel? They’re perfect: they are lightweight, they come in different sizes of super-small, they absorb way more than you would ever expect them to, then dry way faster than they should considering how much water they just absorbed. In short – they’re magic!

Really Flat Bowls, Plates, Cups

I was introduced to the Orikaso Solo Set while camping in Canada, and we brought these nifty folding plates and bowls around the world with us. They are incredibly lightweight and flat, and can tolerate both hot and cold foods. The cups in particular are quite the feat of impossible-ness – I mean seriously: a folding origami cup? That works? (Yes).

Although they’re not entirely practical along the backpacker trail (where most hostels provide full kitchens with dishes), they come in quite handy while camping, and have indeed proved to be invaluable to us a few times whilst traveling too (ie: while eating street food in Asia and trying to avoid the use of disposable plates).

Things I Have Owned

(and Want Again, or Want More of)

Passport Wallet

I have a Passport Holder and love it, but it’s a touch bulky, and it has no neck strap for ease of use in airports. A friend just received one as a gift that’s absolutely perfect – protective and water-resistant, yet light and flexible. It’s not quite the one pictured, but it’s close.

Day Pack / Compression Sack

We each have an Outdoor Research Drycomp Summit Sack, and on my last trip overseas (which lasted six weeks), it was my sole form of (carry on) luggage (along with a laptop bag). We’ve also had these bags on the sides of mountains, whilst camping, climbing, trekking, boogie boarding, sight-seeing…they go pretty much everywhere we do.

But after three years, they are no longer waterproof, and I did a number on the shoulder strap during my last trip overseas with it. So, we are on the hunt to replace our beloved packs, which we hope will last us another three years of traveling bliss.

As an alternative to the Outdoor Research sacks, I am impressed by the look of the SealLine Boundary Packs, which are similar. If anybody has experience with this pack, please leave a comment; I’d love to have a reader testimonial (or warning) before I buy!

Icebreakers

Icebreaker is the name in merino wool clothing. They use the best of the best wool (believe it or not, Armani gets second pick over these guys!), the design is great, and most people in the outdoor industry sing their praises. I like the one pictured here, which has all the bells & whistles of a great piece of gear.

It may be a touch costly, but it will last, and ultra-light packing gurus endorse it. Check out this video where a perpetual traveler manages to cram everything he needs (Icebreakers and electronics included) into a tiny daypack!

Our Icebreaker tops (they have bottoms/socks/hats/jackets too) have proven themselves to us over and over again:

• They don’t stink when we wear them lots and don’t get to wash them so much
• They protect us against fire
• They keep us warm when we get wet
• They’re lightweight
• They dry quickly (good for hand-washing)
• They’re super-comfy, and stylish enough to wear just about anywhere
• I LOVE the holes for your thumbs (only on some shirts), to keep your wrists warm

Things I Want to Own

E-book Reader

As much as I love the feeling of a good book in my hands, I can’t deny the overall environmental, financial, and space savings in having an e-book reader for the road. I regularly review e-books and other books, and an e-reader will be a welcome way to read without having to sit at my computer for yet another hour or six.

I happen to be getting an iPod Touch courtesy of a friend of mine. It has not only has e-reading capabilities, but also WiFi access for checking email, a variety of applications I can download for random usefulness, and it performs the full functions of a PDA and Mp3 player.

But there are two dedicated e-book readers that (I imagine) could provide a better overall reading experience:

The Sony Digital Reader is a handy reader plus Mp3 player, and allows you to take notes and perform other useful functions. The latest one also has touch screen capabilities.

Amazon’s Kindle Wireless Reading Device is the other and is a pioneer in the e-reading world. Their latest one features 3G wireless access so you can download e-books to your device without plugging in. I’m not convinced I like the marry-me-to-Amazon requirements to download from their site though, but it does seem to be an excellent platform.

Flip MinoHD Camcorder

The other item I’ve long been toying with is an HD camera – specifically the Flip MinoHD Camcorder . As somebody who is trying to pack lighter and lighter, it seems counterproductive to load myself down with yet more electronics that I’ll have to protect from evil forces/constantly find a place to charge/lug around accessories for/etc. But this camera is just so darn small and so darn cute, and I’m pretty sure that the decent quality of video will surpass what my still camera can do and it’s considerably easier to use overall.

I’ve pictured the newest model here, but will probably just get a previous generation, possibly used if I can find one. Actually I’m really hoping to win one as part of the Passports With Purpose contest, where there are a few up for grabs – check it out!

Editor’s Note: There are affiliate links in this post.

Related posts:

1. If you Aren’t on the Move, Are you Still a Traveler?
2. Best Travel Gear: Travel Journal
3. A Week-In-The-Life of Dave: The Longest Way Home

Attempting to avoid Canadian winters at all costs, Chris & Cathy decided in 2004 that traveling and teaching would be an ideal way to immerse themselves in foreign cultures and not merely pass through them, staring wide-eyed from a bus. They quit their jobs, sold their house, put everything remaining into storage and boarded a plane bound for

More than 2 years later they moved across the strait to Taiwan where they are currently working in Jhudong, Hsinchu county. Between teaching contracts, they take off for about three months to go backpacking. Please enjoy a week-in-the-life of Chris & Cathy as they travel through Thailand and Laos.

From Taiwan to Thailand

The flight to Bangkok was straightforward enough and we met our daughter May outside the arrival gate. She looked healthy and happy but tired. This was probably due to the fact that she was lugging around a backpack that appeared to almost match both her size and weight.

Upon leaving the terminal we were immediately accosted by cab drivers wanting to take us into the city about 40 minutes away. I’m pretty sure the Thai planning authority purposely built the airport a substantial distance from downtown to generate jobs for impoverished, cut-throat taxi drivers but at 11:00 at night after a long day of packing and waiting around we just couldn’t be bothered haggling over a couple of dollars. Of course we paid more than we should have, but we also paid less than we could have and the driver was at least entertaining as I tried out conversational niceties from May’s Lonely Planet phrase book.

DAY 1: Bangkok (Banglamphu)

Traveling independently for any length of time requires a healthy dose of caution to be balanced with an equally healthy measure of ‘laissez faire’. Too much of one or the other can have serious repercussions on your trip, leaving you either too suspicious of people to enjoy yourself or overly susceptible to being taken advantage of. After a while you develop an awareness; a traveler’s intuition if you like. When you have it, I don’t know what it’s called but when you don’t have it I call it ‘Road Rust’ and we had it. Not only that but we had it in a city that separates tourists from their money quicker than an Irish wake separates a man from his senses. Unfortunately it was to make for a rude introduction to this vibrant and dynamic city.

The Bangkok Gem Scam essentially involves a tourist being approached by a friendly ‘good Samaritan’ who will offer you some sage advice about local attractions or rip-offs. He will then offer to locate an honest driver for you. The goal is to gain trust by first taking you to a few places you want to go to and, once that is accomplished, to get you into a jewelery store or fake travel agent where you will be badgered into buying something expensive and completely fake.

All day long as we were travelling from site to site, I’d had a vague feeling that something had been playing out around us, something that we’d been involved in but were mostly unaware of. When we went back to the hotel we noticed a warning poster in the elevator politely informing us that we’d been unwittingly separated from the herd by a group of professional swindlers who’d tried their damnedest to bleed us dry.

It was soul destroying to know that we’d been exploited solely because we’d been foreign, friendly and approachable; that if we’d been mean, dismissive and ignorant we would have effectively protected ourselves from being potentially fleeced by grinning charlatans. Fortunately we’d been smart, or fortunate enough not to purchase anything.

Welcome to Thailand.

The land of smiles.

Welcome to Bangkok.

Trust the smiles at your peril.

DAY 2: Bangkok (Banglamphu)

This morning we talked to the odd looking trans-gender receptionist at the hotel about purchasing tickets for the overnight sleeper to Chiang Mai. She/He made a couple of phone calls and reported success! There were 3 sleepers available in 2^nd class air-con for the next night’s train. While not being equipped with all the privacy and frills of 1^st class, the 2^nd class option more than suited our needs. We booked the tickets and headed out to explore the notorious Khao San road.

Khao San and the streets surrounding it are a veritable Aladdin’s den of travel and ticket agents, crafts, paintings, pirate CDs and DVDs, fake diplomas and driver’s licenses, second hand books, t-shirt vendors, street snacks, backpack supplies, souvenir stalls, massage parlors and endless labyrinthine alleys of suspiciously discounted ‘designer’ clothes. It is famous worldwide and has developed from humble beginnings into probably the most extreme example of a “backpackers’ ghetto” that you are likely to find anywhere in the world. For all its notoriety it’s a pretty short street. How can such an undersized street have such an over-sized reputation?

The afternoon was absorbed by the Grand (Royal) Palace.

Needless to say it is massively impressive. Never before have I been quite so astounded by the architecture and accoutrements of a building or temple. But then, calling this place a collection of buildings is akin to calling the Amazon and the Nile a couple of rivers.

Gilt, mirrors and frescoes abound. Polished orange and green roof tiles cover the gloriously conceived temples; gleaming stupas reach for the clouds, marble covered floors and mosaic encrusted pillars are at every turn. Dazzling gold leaf glitters and glistens in the sunshine and appear to swathe every surface not already covered by small intricately detailed tiles or vibrant paints. The whole place is an almost incomprehensibly amazing feast for your eyes. It is staggering in its opulence and, after visiting more than my fair share of palaces over the years, this is one that truly took my breath away.

DAY 3: Bangkok to Chiang Mai

Clutching our tickets and labouring under the weight of newly acquired backpacks courtesy of a Khao San road vendor, we piled into a taxi to fight through the early morning rush hour. The sheer volume of traffic on the morning streets of Bangkok is absolutely astonishing. It is choking, teeming and guaranteed to make you late.

Eventually we arrived at the train station and made our way onto the platform to wait

…. and wait ….and wait. Unlike China; where the trains look as if they’ve been rejected by every major and minor rail company in the world but actually manage to run punctually, the Thai trains seem to run on their own particular clock. Unfortunately nobody else seems to know where the clock is or what time it’s set for.

Forty five minutes later the train decided to put in an appearance. Thankfully it was clean and the seats were comfortable enough. The ceiling mounted fans were novel but I had the sinking feeling that they were our ‘A-C’. Air-circulators as opposed to air-conditioners.

It’s all in the small print, as they say.

DAY 4: Chiang Mai

Chiang Mai is an ancient walled city surrounded by mountains in Northern Thailand. It was originally founded in 1296 by King Mengrai and was given its name to reflect its establishment. Chiang Mai literally means ‘New City’.

Not very creative I’ll admit but what can you do?

He was the King after all.

Nowadays it is a major center for tourists to visit the ‘Karen’ and ‘Lisu’ hill tribes and for both elephant trekking and bamboo river rafting expeditions. We visited some tour operators and managed to book a tour incorporating all three activities for 700 Baht per person (about $23 Cdn) for the next day.

DAY 5: Chiang Mai

Promptly late, we were collected by our tour group in an air conditioned minivan and driven at breakneck speed up into the mountains. The scenery was gorgeous but I doubt that our driver took much time to appreciate it as he whipped the protesting vehicle through curve after sinewy curve.

Our first stop was an elephant reserve where we were introduced to the lumbering, gentle creatures and helped onto their broad backs by our guide. After a short distance he slipped to the ground and motioned for me to take his spot. Not wanting to pass up a golden opportunity to make a fool of myself I slid forward until I was straddling its massive neck. Balancing myself with my knees and hands; being swatted by it’s ears as it fanned itself and looking down over it’s grey wrinkly cranium as it swayed rhythmically forward was an experience I’ll never forget. The hair on its head and trunk felt like patting a brillo pad and once in a while I felt, quite literally through the seat of my pants, a deep, rolling rumble so resonant that I was amazed nobody else could hear it.

After plodding through the dense jungle, we bid ‘adieu’ to the elephants and drove a short distance up the road for our bamboo rafting venture. The rafts themselves were nothing more than stout bamboo logs tied together with rope and twine with a ‘seat’ of sorts for someone who didn’t mind getting a wet bum. Cathy sat while May stood and I was elected to ‘steer’. Using a long barge-pole to navigate the bends of the river wasn’t as easy as it looked and I was in awe of how deceptively simple the Thai river guides made it appear.

In the afternoon we visited the ‘Karen’ hill tribe. It’s hard to believe in this day and age that people still live in the same manner as they have done for centuries; perhaps even millennia. Flimsy shacks with dirt floors, communal sleeping quarters, pigs, chickens and ducks roaming around unchecked. Dirty, scruffy, wide-eyed kids and even scruffier dogs; ran around scaring the chickens and it’s easy to imagine that nothing much has really  changed from what you imagine it has probably always been.

DAY 6: Chiang Mai to Huay Xai (Laos)

We woke early and were shuttled to the bus station for our trip to Laos. The journey was uneventful but tolerable and the landscape was spectacular. Vast, flat plains back-dropped by mountains flanked with lush vegetation soothed my eyes and smooth, undulating, non-frost-heaved-tarmac soothed my bum.

We arrived in Chiang Kong 6 ½ hours after leaving Chiang Mai and as we disembarked a gaggle of demonstrative tuk-tuk drivers descended upon us like seagulls squabbling over scraps at the beach. They shepherded us towards their derelict vehicles for transportation to the ferry dock where we piled into longtail boats for our journey across the mighty Mekong river. About 10 minutes later and a whole $1 per person poorer we set foot for the first time in Laos, entering the country at the small frontier town of Huay Xai where we set about getting our arrival visas processed. Essentially this seemed to involve a whole lot of waiting around while nothing actually got done. Apparently the guy who was in charge of providing the authorization and Visa stamp was on break and nobody could find him. So while the immigration guards played games on their cell phones, chain smoked and studied us from behind intimidating looking, mirrored aviator sunglasses, once again we waited.

In due course his eminence arrived and after paying $42 each for inconveniencing him, we were stamped and ready to go. We quickly located a hotel not far from the ferry dock and for 90,000 Kip (approximately $9.50 Cdn) we were able to rent a triple room with a fan for the night. Originally the owner had wanted 110,000 but using my travel honed negotiating skills I bargained him down by 20,000 Kip, which I justified by figuring it would probably go a fair way towards paying for a very welcome, ice-cold beer on the banks of the Mekong over dinner.

DAY 7: Huay Xai to Pak Beng

At some point an enterprising Mekong river captain must have realised that transporting foreigners would be a hell of a lot more profitable than chickens and rice because the boat we found ourselves crammed into was immensely crowded. At least we had seats though, unlike some of the poor souls who arrived late and ended up spending 6 hours sitting on the floor in the smoky, throbbing engine room.

Watching Laos slide by from a boat on the Mekong is an experience I will not soon forget. As we passed by, fishing boats plied their trade and kids splashed naked in the river, laughing and waving and occasionally treating us to an impromptu wrestling match, a game of tag or a display of cartwheels. Jagged, saw-toothed rocks sprouted from the muddy water, cows and goats lounged on the sandy shore watching us curiously or drinking thirstily at the waters edge. Fragile looking shacks perched precariously on stilts amidst steep, forested hillsides which were dense with vegetation so thick that they appeared impassable. We passed through it all with a sense of wonder as the boat chugged relentlessly downstream under clear blue skies.

Occasionally we stopped to drop off supplies that had been strapped to the roof or to pick up people who flagged us down from the riverbank. Every time we did, hordes of scruffy kids descended upon the boat and walked through the congestion of seats hawking all kinds of snacks and beverages from Pringles chips to Laos beer. When we eventually arrived in Pak Beng we were tired and numb-bummed but content.

Pak Beng is quite literally a one street town on the banks of the Mekong populated by hotels, guesthouses, restaurants, and convenience stores catering exclusively to the foreigners who arrive by boat every day and leave every morning. Nightly at 11p.m the electricity goes out and in anticipation of the darkness; almost as if it is expectantly holding its breath, the town is quiet and dark at 10:00. We fell into early, exhausted sleep soothed by the whirring of the fan.

Sometimes, life is just glorious.

Chris & Cathy are teaching in Taiwan for another term while planning their next trip scheduled for July. Where to? Maybe India. Maybe the train from Bejing to Lhasa with a pit stop at Everest Base Camp. Then again, there’s always Malaysia or Indonesia…

For more on the latest adventures of Chris & Cathy, please check out their travel blog.

Related posts:

1. A Week-In-The-Life of Cherie & Chris: Technomadia
2. A Week-In-The-Life of Dave: The Longest Way Home
3. A Week-In-The-Life of Brian: No Debt World Travel

I felt pretty good about the donation to begin with, so the prize was the icing on the cake. The fundraising effort was part of a mammoth travel-bloggers-cooperative-effort called Passports With Purpose, and raised over $7,000 which was donated to Heifer International.

This year, they know what they can do and they’re going for gold. The charity of choice for the Passports With Purpose crew is American Assistance for Cambodia, and their $13,000 target is just enough to build a school in rural Cambodia!

How it Works:

Simply take a peek at the prizes page, and find a few prizes you like the look of (be sure to check out the corresponding travel blogs too; you might find some good reading in there)! For every $10 (USD) that you donate, you can enter your name in a draw for one item. If you like five items, then pony up $50. And so on.

But Hurry!

The contest closes on December 21^st, and the winners are notified by January 5^th. With prizes like video camcorders, resort gift certificates, and valuable travel gear, you can get in line behind me to donate some coin(s) to Passports With Purpose!

Related posts:

1. Passports with Purpose: Win Some Neat Prizes and Contribute to a Great Cause
2. 2009 Lonely Planet Travel Blogger Awards
3. Winding Along Australia’s Great Ocean Road

Please enjoy my latest articles scattered around the web.

Wise Bread

For Love or Money: Must it be One or the Other?

A recent Wise Bread article explored whether the career advice “do what you love” is idealistic or sensible. I don’t see it as black or white; this article examines a few x-factors that might determine the sort of person who does what they love, and why we all have a disadvantage when it comes to career choices.

Is it Better to Specialize or Generalize?

Are we more employable – and ultimately happy – in our careers if we become proficient at lots of things (ie: to generalize), or to become really good at one or two things (ie: to specialize)? The arguments for each side make this a tough call.

Amex Open Forum

How to Deal with Tax-Deductible Receipts Quickly and Easily

How do you deal with tax-deductible receipts that you collect on the fly? Are they stuffed into your wallet until it becomes so distended that you are forced to do something about them? Are they crumpled in pockets or left in a pile or folder dedicated to “I’ll deal with this later”? Worse yet, do you lose your receipts before you have a chance to deduct them from your income when you file your taxes?

If you don’t have a quick and easy way, then read on. Dealing with tax-deductible receipts doesn’t have to be a chore; it takes me no more than five minutes per week to manage three businesses’ worth of receipts.

Shout Outs

Embracing My Journey is an inspirational site with interviews of all sorts of people who chase their dreams live their optimal lives. I was lucky enough to be invited to participate! Please check out my profile here – From Financial Planner to Professional Hobo- and enjoy!

JetSetCitizen’s recent Digital Nomad Blog Carnival was a great success, with an amazing collection of articles from digital nomads the world over. I got a mention for my “Is Travel an Act of Full-Time Withdrawal?” article, with an intro that included my guest post about Traveling Full-Time for Less than $14,000 Per Year. Thanks!

Picture Camping enjoyed my recent post on Camping With Koalas that they posted a little commentary on it with a link back to the Site. Cheers!

Related posts:

1. Roundup: October 16th-November 15th
2. Roundup: September 16th-30th
3. Roundup: April 16th-30th

Well, if hiding my recent hobby of playing-with-fire was sneaky, then hiding the addition of two new members to our household would probably be construed as extra sneaky.

But please believe me – it’s not my fault!

You see, the last couple of months have been the breeding ground for an interesting experiment. One in the study of….sheep. Please let me explain.

Considering we managed to furnish our entire house (which is no small order and includes everything except the clothes and toiletries we owned prior to moving in) for under $250, I think you can say we live a pretty frugal life. (Why would we spend a fortune on stuff? We’ll only move on anyway….)

So when it comes to maintaining the property and keeping the grass low, we are challenged. After both of us spending an entire weekend (plus a can of petrol and other incidentals) using borrowed gear to cut our expansive lawns, we decided there had to be a better way.

Problems with the status quo:

• We don’t own lawn cutting equipment, and are at the mercy of borrowing from neighbours and compensating them with slabs of beer (at $40 a pop).
• We are not pleased at the consumption (and cost) of petrol to operate said machinery.
• If we don’t keep the grass low, snakes are an immediate problem. (And the snakes here aren’t terribly friendly).
• We have way better things to do than spend 25 man hours cutting our grass every few weeks. I mean, seriously.

Our solution? Living Lawn Mowers!

A friend of a friend who works on a sheep farm got wind of our situation, and offered us a couple of sheep (free of charge and delivered to our door, no less. Total cost: a slab of beer). These merino sheep (aged 1 and 2 years old) were on the cull list because their wool wasn’t fine enough, so we have had a chance to lengthen their lives as it were.

It is a symbiotic relationship. The sheep get what they want – all the grass they can eat, a loving environment, and longer lives. We get what we want – a well-manicured lawn without effort or consumption/emissions, and eventually, well….dinner. (Many dinners, in fact).

A friend who was horrified that we might eventually eat our “pets” cautioned us against giving them names. We decided to anyway, but I think you’ll agree that our sheep have very appropriate names:

Lawn & Mower

(Mint & Sauce were a close second, but we decided it was a touch obtuse)!

Knowing that our sheepish companions will eventually end up as food, we were keen not to establish close bonds with them when they first arrived. Any worries in that area quickly became obsolete though, as we learned the true nature of our wooly friends.

All those expressions about sheep? Yeah, they’re kind of true.

Sheep Expressions

Are you feeling “sheepish”?

It’s probably because you’re as shy as our sheep. We’ve yet to get close to them without them leaping madly and running away in terror, only for them to realize minutes later that we were just doing something innocuous like hanging our laundry as they meander back into our section of the yard.

…We’ve had the sheep for well over a month now, and it has taken me this long to get them to pose for the camera – from a distance no less!

“Counting Sheep”?

You imagine sheep jumping over fences. And this they certainly can do. We’ve seen them jump, and quite frankly they could leap over our fences whenever they want to. We’re pleased that they seem happy enough to stick around.

The phrase “counting sheep” was coined in 1854 by Seba Smith, who suffered from insomnia and visualized sheep jumping over a fence to help him fall asleep.

“One Sheep Follows Another”,

“If one sheep leaps over the ditch, all the rest will follow”

There are a number of expressions about sheep being herd (er rather, flock) animals as opposed to individual thinkers. And from my observations, it’s pretty accurate. Our sheep, as lovely as they are, don’t appear to be the smartest or most individualistic critters around.

“A wolf in sheep’s clothing”

There are many expressions and quotes involving the relationship between wolves and sheep (the quintessential predator and prey). Sheep, sadly, are just so easy to pick on. Poor sheep! (smiles)

Sheep Proverbs

“An army of sheep led by a lion would defeat an army of lions led by a sheep.” (Arab Proverb)

True, I haven’t seen many strong leadership attributes in our sheep. An army, they certainly are not.

“Without a shepherd, sheep are not a flock.” (Russian Proverb)

Does that make us shepherds? Or are our sheep just a motley crew instead of a flock? How many sheep do you need to make a flock, anyway ?

“The sheep has no choice when in the jaws of the wolf.” (Chinese proverb)

True enough. Not many animals have choice when a wolf is tearing them to bits. Who knew?!

Sheep Quotes

“A man when he is making up to anybody can be cordial and gallant and full of little attentions and altogether charming. But when a man is really in love he can’t help looking like a sheep.” – Agatha Christie

True enough: when we make up after a fight, Kelly can get a little, well, sheepish. But he sure as heck doesn’t eat grass and run away from me. For this, I am thankful.

“If freedom of speech is taken away, then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.” – George Washington

“We are a nation of sheep, and someone else owns the grass.” — George Carlin

Wow. Our backyard is a microcosm of society. Never thought of it that way.

“It is better to live one day as a lion than 100 years as a sheep.” — Benito Mussolini

How do you know, Mr. Mussolini? Sheep seem to have a pretty good deal. Lions have to work way harder for their food…

“In order to be an immaculate member of a flock of sheep, one must above all be a sheep oneself.” – Albert Einstein

This from one of history’s greatest thinkers, who apparently has a knack for the obvious. No comment.

“Every man can tell how many goats or sheep he possesses, but not how many friends.” – Marcus Tullius Cicero

I guess this goes hand-in-hand with the keeping enemies closer than friends adage. Because I find sheep terribly difficult to count…

“To create man was a quaint and original idea, but to add the sheep was tautology” – Mark Twain

Aww….to suggest that sheep are repetitive and boring…whoops – I can’t deny that. They’re not exactly conversationalists; I’ve had birds with way more personality.

“Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner.” James Bovard

Hmmm….I wonder who wins?

“Geographically, Ireland is a medium-sized rural island that is slowly but steadily being consumed by sheep.” – Dave Barry

“Ideas are easy. It’s the execution of ideas that really separates the sheep from the goats.” – Sue Grafton

Who brought goats into this? And since when are they so proactive?!

“We herd sheep, we drive cattle, we lead people. Lead me, follow me, or get out of my way.” – George Patton

“Where does virgin wool come from? The sheep that runs the fastest.” - Harry F. Banks

Judging by how fast our sheep run, those would be some speedy virgins!

“A bleating sheep loses a bite” - 1599 J. Minsheu

This means opportunities are missed through too much chatter, which is a great quote. The first time I heard one of our sheep bleat, I thought it was something entirely different, the bleat being much lower in tambour than I had imagined it would be.

Maybe, just maybe, our sheep are actually “wolves in sheeps’ clothing”……it could explain their odd bleats…

“New Zealand is a country of thirty thousand million sheep, three million of whom think they are human.” – Barry Humphries

I can’t wait to see New Zealand now. Could make for some interesting conversations…

Related posts:

1. The Plight of a Writer Living Abroad: Lessons Learned About Getting Support
2. Living the Dream: Climbing on the Rooftop of Australia (Mt Kosciuszko)
3. Living in the Dark (and Other Things we Miss)

When Audrey Scott and Daniel Noll left their stable lives and jobs to travel around the world in December 2006, they expected to be on the road for 12 months. Over two and a half years later they are barely halfway there; exploration takes time. You may find them on a chicken bus snacking on street food one day, photographing microfinance programs the next and climbing volcanoes after that. Please enjoy a week-in-the-life of Audrey and Daniel of

We share sample week from Guatemala.  But it could well have been Armenia, Uzbekistan or Nepal. We roll from one bus ride to town to guesthouse to street stall to project. It’s a balance of travel, work and trying to create a fulfilling life on the road.

Tuesday

8 AM: Arrived at the Xela (Quetzaltenango) bus station right as our bus was leaving. Throw bags on the top of chicken bus and hurry inside. Fortunately, there are still seats remaining. Endless number of stops for a 90-minute trip to Totonicapan.  A vendor gets on the front, another off the back.  So many people selling stuff, from freshly made potato chips to school supplies guaranteed to bring your kids straight A’s.

10 AM: Arrive at hotel and realize that we misunderstood on the phone the price of a room with private bathroom. Decide to take room with shared bathroom for half the price. Hotel seems to be for Guatemalan traders; other guests aren’t expecting two Gringos. Room is about two feet wider than the beds; looks like we’ll need to break out the sleep sacks to avoid bed bugs.

11 AM: Get some breakfast – rice and beans – with construction workers at makeshift food stalls near the construction site of the main square. Venture into town to explore the weekly market; fruit, vegetables, embroidered shirts, weaving, meat, books. Vendors keep giving us warnings about pickpockets; we hold our camera even closer.

1 PM: Find a restaurant with real coffee and rest our legs. Sign promises wifi internet, but we soon find out it’s an empty promise.

5 PM: Take a minibus to a village outside of town to meet a Kiva fellow for dinner at her host brother’s restaurant. He had lived in the States for ten years and was starting afresh back home with a simple restaurant.

9:30 PM: Try to catch the bus back to town, but we’ve missed the last one. Become friends with a store owner while waiting; he decides to take us to town himself in his car. Word spreads and soon the car is packed with all his relatives.

Wednesday

5 AM: Sounds like a party outside. Television blaring, loud conversation. Regretting decision not to wear earplugs.

6:30 AM: Party ends 15 minutes before alarm goes off. Not the best way to start a long day.

8 AM:  Back on the minibus to the village to work with microfinance organization and Kiva fellow. Next five hours spent visiting Kiva borrowers in different villages, photographing them and hearing their stories of how they’ve used their small loans to start businesses and improve life for their families. Stretch our limited Spanish skills to ask questions about family businesses so that they relax. Forget the camera and we can get some good shots.

4 PM:  Try to connect at another restaurant promising wifi. No such luck. Walk the streets looking for an internet café to check email.

8 PM:  Transfer and geotag all photos from the day’s photo shoot. Watch a movie and collapse.

Thursday

9 AM:  Choose photos from previous day’s photo shoot over breakfast.

12 PM:  Find internet café to upload video, edit piece for our website and catch up on email correspondence. Hold a vigil so that the connection holds long enough to complete everything. Press “publish,” pack up, and run out the door to catch a bus.

4 PM:  Another minivan to the bus station.  Designed to hold 17 people, but packed with 30. Each time we think no one else can fit, driver stops to pick up one more person.

Board a chicken bus headed in the direction of “4 Roads” – a spot where two main roads meet. Pretend we don’t speak Spanish to avoid conversation with drunk guy sitting behind us.

All the locals tell us we should get to San Francisco El Alto in 15 minutes. Don’t know if that’s by the Mayan calendar or what. It takes more than 30 minutes just to get to the highway crossing.

5 PM:  Bus drops us off on the side of the highway at “4 Roads.” Board another chicken bus, three people on each side. The aisle is packed.  The bus sways. As it gets dark outside, the bus driver turns off the inside light. We figure this may not be a bad thing; if we fall off a cliff – a distinct possibility with the way the driver is going – we won’t see it coming.

Ticket guy knows we want to go to San Francisco El Alto, but he gives no signal it’s time to get off. We ask the school kids in the seats around us for help. One girl shrieks at our inquiry and leaves. Another boy yells, “Get off now!”

6 PM:  Bus drops us off on the edge of town with two women carrying large bundles tied in brightly colored woven fabric on their heads. It’s dark, we’re without a map and we stand out in the darkness as the only foreigners in town. In this dusty town, lights of local tiendas (shops) shine through the dust giving the place an ethereal quality.

We have a name and address of a hotel. The women find us amusing as we try in our basic Spanish to ask for help, but point us in the right direction.

We wind our way through town as people mill about setting up stands for the following day’s market. With all the news of safety issues at night, we walk fast and with purpose. After a few more stops to ask directions – and avoiding the town drunks who want to practice their English – we end up in the right place: Hotel Galaxia.

6:30 PM:  The woman running the hotel gives us the rundown of the market schedule. Stalls go up at 3 AM, but people start buying at 5 AM. Animals get sold behind the Catholic Church.

Our room: there’s only cold water.  The up side: a convenient excuse not to take a shower before tomorrow’s 5AM start. But, despite the level of dilapidation – the kind that you cannot imagine the place as new and there are holes in the wall that used to be electrical outlets – we’re happy because it has two plugs (that work) and a wastebasket. Ah, luxury.

6:45 PM:  Venture out on the streets to find something to eat. Pickings are pretty slim. A burrito to go and a warm beer.

10 PM: Our sleep sacks have become our best friends; we’re worried about fleas/bed bugs. The last few hotel beds have left us with itchy, red welts along the soft skin of our legs and backs/stomachs.

Friday

5:30 AM: To market we go.  The light falls on stack of cowboy hats under the shadow of the church.  Cauldrons hint of breakfast. Soup, tamales, tea, tortillas. Girls walk around with large kettles of hot chocolate. Good stuff.

Venture up to the animal market behind the church. Pigs squeal and protest as if they know their imminent fate, geese peck at puppies, cows stubbornly refuse to move, sheep stand patiently as potential buyers turn them upside down and feel around to make sure they’re healthy.

8:30 AM:  Market has become crowded. Uncomfortable to walk through the streets; the peacefulness of the early hours is gone. Get some breakfast – tamales and tea – at a local stall and catch a bus back to Xela.

10 AM: Arrival in Xela. Pick up our big bags and check into a guest house. The hot water promised by management is not exactly hot…

12 PM: Lunch at our favorite café as we try to upload photos to FTP for Kiva in the United States. All our praying doesn’t work; the connection is too weak.

4 PM: Stumble upon parade in Xela’s main square. A local tradition for the Friday before holy week is for university students to get dressed up and make floats that poke fun at local and international politicians and events.

6 PM: Meeting with trekking group to get equipment ready for the next morning’s 3-day trek from Xela to Lake Atitlan. Didn’t realize we had to carry sleeping bags and food. Backpacks heavier than expected.

Saturday – Monday

The next three days are spent going straight up hill or straight downhill; there’s only two hours of flat ground in this hike. It’s physically challenging – we’re completely exhausted at the end of each day – but the experience and views (especially watching the sun rise over Lake Atitlan) are worth the effort. Quetzal Trekkers is also a fantastic organization that gives all its profits to a school for street kids and has great volunteer guides.

We hobble into San Pedro on Lake Atitlan, find real coffee, take showers, bandage up our toes and relax with a beer looking over the lake.

Audrey & Daniel are still adventuring through South America, and are currently traveling through Argentina. Next up: Buenos Aires and heading south to Patagonia. They work with microfinance programs as they travel, and have seen first-hand positive effects of the work of both Kiva and Five Talents, and they recommend you check these organizations out. You can read about their own experiences with these organizations in India, Guatemala, and Nicaragua. And of course, you can learn about their current adventures on their award-winning blog at Uncornered Market.

Related posts:

1. A Week-In-The-Life of Corbett: Free Pursuits
2. A Week-In-The-Life of Brian: No Debt World Travel
3. Week-In-The-Life Series: Nomadic Matt

When a fellow travel blogger recently wrote about fire spinning in Thailand, I realized in reading it that I have been amiss with you, dear readers.

You see, I have blatantly (and unintentionally) kept you in the dark about a new part of my own life; a hobby that is both relaxing and actively playful….Fire Spinning!

It all started with friends of mine who spin. When I first saw them spinning balls of fire on chains (called poi) and twirling staffs with the ends ablaze, I thought it looked neat, but didn’t have much interest in it myself.

It wasn’t until I picked up a staff one day to try and imitate a move I had seen that I began to think of fire spinning as something I could get into. The staff felt smooth, was a perfect weight, and I realized with a few tips that it wasn’t as difficult as it initially appeared. Learning new moves felt great, and perfecting the art of making spinning look good tapped into my love of dance and performance in general.

Months and months after I first picked up a poi or staff, I was at an outdoor music festival where some friends were “having a burn,” as they say. There were 200 people gathered around a stage about 50metres away, and on this little patch of grass to the side, about half a dozen people were fire spinning.

“Here, have a go,” said a mate as they relatively unceremoniously tossed me a half lit staff. “The other side didn’t get fueled up by accident, so you’re stuck with one,” he said.

Ah well, “one’s better than none” I thought, and started spinning the staff, surprised at the heat and size of the one fireball up close. My friends had been careful to teach me about fire spinning safety, our credo being “learn before you burn”. So I felt prepared for this, my first time spinning fire.

And man, was I on fire (pardon the blatant pun). I had that staff spinning like it had never been spun it before.

That is, until I smacked myself in the eye with the unlit end of the staff.

Convinced that I would be toting a black eye for the next week, I glanced up to see who saw my blunder. As luck would have it, if anybody had actually seen my spinning debacle, they had the good grace to pretend not to have.

So I kept spinning, and got back to having fun. Mere minutes later when I was handed a fully lit staff to play with instead, I became confident that nobody saw my eye-poking antics!

“Yikes,” I thought to myself. “It would hurt a lot more if I poked myself in the eye with fire,” I pondered as I swallowed hard and attempted to track the whereabouts of not one but two balls of fire revolving around my body.

Turns out it’s much easier to spin staffs with both ends lit than one…they’re easier to see!

Since then, I’ve had a few chances to have fun with fire spinning, and to watch those who are much better than me have a go at it too. Fire spinning is a beautiful rhythmic dance that requires skill, courage, and practice. I’m so glad I’ve had a chance to try my own hands at it.

All the pictures above are of me, just in case you were wondering. Here are some pictures of various friends of mine fire spinning:

Related posts:

1. Victorian Bush Fire Diary: February 24th – DAY EIGHTEEN
2. Victorian Bush Fire Diary: February 19th – DAY THIRTEEN
3. Victorian Bush Fire Diary: February 18th – DAY TWELVE