Good Travel Writing

Exactly what it says. Also, pictures sometimes.

1 note

On Silence in Itaunas

chasburgersandscreebs:

The irony of the situation hit me all at once: After three years of talking at conferences, talking through trainings and speaking at meetings, I was being forced to do nothing but listen. That’s what happens when you find yourself on a bus through the Brazilian countryside with just a pack of…

14 notes

roadsandkingdoms:

Notes from Hotel Metropole, Belo Horizonte. Helicopters buzzing the city center at 1am. Both Belgium and Algeria national teams staying near, will get up for the early game having dreamt bleak dreams of Zero Dark Thirty. 5:30am, the walls are made of paper and the sounds of toilets flushing. Two women are having an intense, friendly, shouty conversation somewhere in the gloaming. A single voice calls out in perfect in accented American English: Shut. The. Fuck. Up. It worked. John Brooks may have been the hero of last night, but this unknown Yankee is the hero of the morning. Unfortunately, he is nowhere to be found when I am still trying to work at 6:30am and from all sides of me, Belgians wake up, brush their good teeth and yell into their mirrors: GO BELGIUM! GO BELGIUM! GO!

Flawless, as usual. DAMMIT YOU GUYS.

roadsandkingdoms:

Notes from Hotel Metropole, Belo Horizonte. Helicopters buzzing the city center at 1am. Both Belgium and Algeria national teams staying near, will get up for the early game having dreamt bleak dreams of Zero Dark Thirty. 5:30am, the walls are made of paper and the sounds of toilets flushing. Two women are having an intense, friendly, shouty conversation somewhere in the gloaming. A single voice calls out in perfect in accented American English: Shut. The. Fuck. Up. It worked. John Brooks may have been the hero of last night, but this unknown Yankee is the hero of the morning. Unfortunately, he is nowhere to be found when I am still trying to work at 6:30am and from all sides of me, Belgians wake up, brush their good teeth and yell into their mirrors: GO BELGIUM! GO BELGIUM! GO!

Flawless, as usual. DAMMIT YOU GUYS.

28 notes

Jim located a small airport, a fixed-base operator (F.B.O.) where we could stop for gas. For humans, the effects of three or four hours in a small plane accumulate: too hot, too cold, noisy, cramped, hungry, where’s the bathroom. As we approached for landing, I wished for good luck with the F.B.O. The worst ones will have a small shack, a bathroom, a few phone numbers to call for emergency, a vending machine with cheese crackers, yet always a working self-serve gas pump. One F.B.O. in Maine was so remote that we had to circle around twice for landing when a local farmer was using the runway as a shortcut for his tractor. On the other hand, you might find an F.B.O. with a nice comfy lounge, homemade cookies, popcorn and a restroom full of amenities.

On that Sunday, we stopped for gas at Toccoa, Ga., near the South Carolina border, as I was working up a little bit of self-pity over our Easter lunch of beef jerky. When I pulled open the door to the F.B.O., the most delicious aromas wafted out, followed by a warm invitation from the manager to take a plate and join his extended family for a potluck buffet: ham, salads, biscuits, casseroles and enough Southern hospitality to fill the state. You never know.

An Intimate View of America, From Above - NYTimes.com

I really enjoyed this little story about a couple that hops around America in a small plane. I like hearing about the systems that exist - like these small airports and their operators and amenities - in areas of life I would never normally encounter. 

(via chels)

(via chels)

1,373 notes

When I first travelled, I was naive, sloppy, wide-eyed, and nothing happened to me. That’s probably where the dumb luck came in. Then I began to read the guidebooks, the State Department warnings, the endless elucidation of national norms, cultural cues and insults and regional dangers, and I became wary, careful, savvy. I kept my money taped inside my shoe, or strapped to my stomach. I took any kind of precaution, believing that the people of this area did this, and the people of that province did that. But then, finally, I realised no one of any region did anything I have ever expected them to do, much less anything the guidebooks said they would. Instead, they behaved as everyone behaves, which is to say they behave as individuals of damnably infinite possibility. Anyone could do anything, in theory, but most of the time everyone everywhere acts with plain bedrock decency, helping where help is needed, guiding where guidance is necessary. It’s almost weird.
Dave Eggers (via kateoplis)

(Source: millionsmillions, via wanderlustsociety)

743 notes

IT BEGINS!!

anthonybourdain:

image

“He gave the impression that very many cities had rubbed him smooth.”
-Graham Greene

The pool at the Grand Hotel del Paraguay is, best as I can tell, unused. Maybe it’s the heat—and the humidity—which are considerable and relentless. Or the lack of a bar, or towels, or staff. But nobody else…

Jesus CHRIST Bourdain! YES.