I recently submitted an article to the Across the Pond blog/independent print magazine. Included below is the original article or you can view it here.
When Caitlin from the inimitable travel blog/print magazine 'Across the Pond' kindly proposed whether I'd like to contribute an article incorporating the theme of "The Best and Worst of Travel" at first I was like:
Anyone who has known me beyond a few drinking sessions down the local will likely be aware that since around the age of 20, my whole raison d'etre has been travelling and experiencing different cultures. To provide a little context, I should state unequivocally for the record that I've never done a round-the-world-trip; I was never ambitious enough at university to undertake a gap year; and I was never (and have never) been interested in the hackneyed 'backpacker trails' that are dotted around South East Asia. I did, however, spend a month boozing my way through Thailand, but that sordid adventure doesn't qualify as strictly "backpacker": I showered daily, gorged heartily upon Western food and slept off lethal Thai-vodka hangovers in a multitude of air-conditioned guest-rooms. That is, of course, until the money ran out.
I guess what I'm trying to say (somewhat ineloquently), is that the concept of travel does not fall into the preconceived notions of a certain privileged few. Travelling doesn't have to be setting off with a backpack, a map of the Far East and a dog-eared Lonely Planet guide.
The reason I am emphatically driving at this point is because the "Best and Worst of Travel", at least in my mind, should be regarded in much the same way: interchangeable. That's why I was thoroughly confused by the title of this article-I somewhat expect most people, when confronted with the topic, will fondly reminisce about the time they toured Australia back in '01, but immediately go silent and furrow their brows when memories of being held for four hours at a border crossing in Eastern Europe arise.
When I eventually sat down at the computer to blaze through this post, a torrent of memories roared back: from time spent in continental Europe, to a series of journeys embarked upon whilst living and working in China. With this in mind, I cast a net to conscientiously sift through what I considered to be the "Best" (capital B) of all my experiences of travelling.
And you know something? It was pretty difficult.
I don't mean to say that I haven't had great experiences-of course I have. What I mean, is that as I ponder the trips I've had: walking across the border from China into Lao PDR; chaotic breaks to Amsterdam and Prague; the several years I spent working in France, getting to know people and partying; the never-ending fucking bus journeys I was required to take to reach the borders China shares with Kazakhstan, Russia, Mongolia and Pakistan; not to mention the veritable shitstorm that was my attempt to reach Base Camp at Everest, I realise that some of my favourite travel experiences have been the ones where I had to suffer-ones which could also be described as my worst.
Let me illustrate my point in another way. Someone very close to me recently lamented the way in which technology seems to be developing to cater towards the most common denominator: the technotard. He further added that he took heart in the fact that some forms of technology required a bit of skill to understand, or a bit of research to get one's head around. I think it's safe to say that this can be applied in somewhat equal measures to all things in life: where is the thrill in chasing a guy/girl who is exceptionally easy to get into bed? Who would want a doctor from a university where they award degrees for merely showing face at lectures? Who wants a job where you're paid to sit on a computer all day and expend virtually no energy?
Ok, scratch that last one.
That said, my point still stands: having to strive and suffer, as much as we dislike it, gives meaning to life and travelling is no different. Is it really so terrible that we get fed up when we're stuck at an airport/train station/border crossing or is it part of the greater journey? A test of our mettle? An opportunity for us to analyse who we really are? I suffered unutterable boredom, anxiety, stress and general apathy on many of those trips and the truth is that they wouldn't be half as memorable (or as worthy) if they had been otherwise. I regularly bust out stories about my adventures and remember fondly the pain I endured to accomplish these feats. I didn't rely on tourist guides, Lonely Planet books or traversing well-worn backpacker routes, although there were indeed times when I truly wished I had. The fact that these trips were so thoroughly difficult and unbearably horrid at times make them some of the best I've ever had.
So-the "Best and Worst of Travel"? How does one truly define these?
Many of the preconceived notions of what constitutes the very best of travel ("meeting locals who were endlessly kind and helpful"; "the climb to the top of the mountain-and oh my God it changed my life" etc.) are usually foisted upon us by those who feel they should have a monopoly with regards to how travel should affect us. You know the kind-the slightly effete dreadlocked male, chain-smoking roll-ups, who proceeds to spurn the beer back home because he "was in this village in South East Timor where they brewed their own concoction of beer with coconut milk and my God, it was sooooo good. So yeah, no Stella for me-I'll just have the banana daiquiri." Or perhaps it's the girl who has managed to visit every country in the Northern Hemisphere, but couldn't tell you the first thing about the histories, cultures or languages of the places she visited. These people regard travelling as a means to attain a fleeting superiority over others; they do not own travel and they shouldn't own what it means for us, either. Such commonplace ideas as a 52 hour bus journey being a trip-ruining experience can be scrapped if one is willing to accept that it is we who are in control and that there are no “standards” or “benchmarks” to achieve but for those you set yourself. Who says a 52 hour bus journey can’t be a highlight of a trip? Anyone who judges you on your experiences be damned. Burn “1001 Places to See Before You Die” and books of their ilk. Carve a path. It’s your life, after all.
Before I’m criticised by the general public, I'm well aware that I may have fallen into the same trap for which I've accused others and I'm almost certain that I've come across as preachy in this article (it's one of my more endearing qualities, believe me), but should the chance arise in future when a spanner has been thrown into your travelling plans, instead of instantly writing it off as one of the worst experiences of the trip, re-frame the situation and view it as a necessary part of the journey. Perhaps one day you'll be able to appreciate that some of the worst experiences when travelling are, in fact, the best.
"All my lazy teenage boasts are now high precision ghosts..."
-D.
