Thanksgiving overseas: Belgian beer in Bruges

Growing up in the Midwest, my Thanksgiving was the traditional spread of turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie, devoured at a relative’s home in suburban Chicago. But I grew up to be an inveterate traveler and spent the holiday in many places—one of the best was the historic, colorful Belgian city of Bruges.

Several years ago I was serving an internship at the US Embassy in London, and received a four-day weekend as per Federal law. I packed a bag, recruited a friend, and took advantage of the holiday to visit one of my favorite Northern European locations.

Bruges is a lovely little time capsule, a prosperous medieval port city that saw its fortunes vanish when its waterway silted up. The city’s centuries of slumber had an unintended boon for twenty-first century travelers: its cathedral, cobbled alleyways, picture-book canals, and magnificent Market Square survive to thrill romantics and history buffs alike.

My friend, a fellow American who was visiting me from back home, had never heard of the place. This presented another great opportunity I relished: playing tour guide in Europe. At first she was skeptical of spending the holiday in an unfamiliar city, but seemed to warm to the idea when told that Belgium makes the finest chocolate and beer in the galaxy (in fact, Belgium has almost as many beers as there are days in the year).

Having won her interest, we met up in London on a Wednesday, flew to the Brussels and caught a train to Bruges. A steady rain greeted us as we settled into a little bed and breakfast I’d enjoyed on a previous visit. I promised my exhausted buddy that tomorrow would be a lot more fun.

Thanksgiving was spent showing my hometown friend some of Bruges’ charms, like the bell tower that has overlooked the Market Square since 1300, the gorgeous Crusader-financed Basilica of the Holy Blood, and the terrific Gruuthuse Museum housed in the former home of a wealthy medieval merchant. Under a chilly drizzle, we munched on hot, greasy French fries from a stand in the Market Square and then checked out the Michelangelo kept in a nearby church. A major part of the experience was, of course, browsing the numerous chocolate shops lining the alleyways just off the colorful square.

Our thanksgiving feast was in a little Italian café off a cobbled lane, where a pizza was washed down with a delicious locally-crafted strawberry-flavored beer (Frambozen). Dark chocolate, freshly made by a nearby confectioner’s, was the dessert. After introducing my pal to a few more fine Belgian beers (Trappist monk-brewed dark, and a white beer called Dentergems), a post-feast stroll around the backstreets capped off the night. The following Sunday I returned to London while my friend flew home to Chicago with a bagful of pralines, a hangover, and a few good stories.

I’ve had many interesting Thanksgiving experiences before and since, but my holiday spent in the historic, idyllic little Belgian city still brings a smile. Stuffing and family is great, but I really miss that beer.

Realities of Travel Writing, part 2: Getting the Assignment

In this second installment of Realities of Travel Writing, I’m continuing on the topic of getting the assignment. It bears fleshing out, as you can’t board the plane until you land the gig. So, first thing’s first.

After you’ve come up with a great article idea and researched the websites, blogs, or magazines you want to pitch it to, there’s still a lot more to be done.

Firsts, is your idea in line with what they specialize in? What is their market or target audience, and how is your article idea relevant to them? Some blogs/websites/magazines are quite open to all facets of travel, but some are “niche,” i.e. quite focused on one part of the world or aspect of the experience of traveling. The editor is the audience, for the purposes of pitching. Know their needs well or you’ll be wasting your time and theirs.

Similarly, know the tone and style of the publication you’re approaching. Tailor your pitch accordingly. For example, World War II Magazine will have a more professional, academic tone than, say, a free-wheeling blog dedicated to twenty-somethings with wanderlust. Again, know your audience. If you pitch them without knowing anything about their market it will show and they will shut you down fast.

Also, more research to be done: Have they published a piece similar to your idea recently? If so, they won’t be interested in repetition. Be aware of what they haven’t covered lately and leverage that in your pitch. Editors of magazines, websites, and blogs are always scrambling for fresh ideas. They need new content constantly, and are aware of the perils of repetition and stagnation.

The bottom line: Come to their rescue with an original, well fleshed-out piece that is in line with their purpose, market, tone and style, and you’ll be surprised how receptive they can be.

Volunteering Abroad: Another Great Way to Travel

The past few posts in the “summer work abroad” series have dealt with teaching ESL and work-stays as avenues to make a buck abroad in the summer months (or any month, really).

This third entry will be a bit different. In the rare case that you don’t need to make cash while spending a month or a season abroad, volunteering can be a helpful way to experience a culture first-hand in the process of doing some good. In recent years this approach to travel has gained in popularity. Volunteering’s three-for-the-price-of-one deal is attractive: The opportunity to get to know a culture, make new friendships, and have an adventure while doing a noble deed that’ll look good on the CV when the summer’s over.

And you might even get a nice tan.

Generally, volunteers don’t need special skills, except for medical projects in the Third World. Most programs are just searching for diligent, enthusiastic helpers looking to make a difference to those in need around the globe.

Opportunities can range from building homes for flood victims in humid Southeast Asia to planting crops and digging wells for clean drinking water in parched African villages. Positions helping with conservation and wildlife programs are available too.

Some first-rate organizations always looking for volunteers around the globe are Peace Corps, Doctors Without Borders, American Red Cross, and United Nations Volunteers among others. They seek volunteers to fill a critical void in the fields of environmental research, conservation, education, and community development.

More culturally-related opportunities can be in had too, especially in Europe, like digging at an archeological site. I did this at the Shakespeare Home archeological excavation at the writer’s former homestead in Stratford-upon-Avon, England (more about this cool experience in a future post). I made friends I otherwise wouldn’t have met and held a long-buried piece of the legendary author’s home in my hand.

There are dozens of helpful websites that can help you sort through the enormous menu of options. Many of them can parse the possibilities for people looking to volunteer in everything from medical assistance to woman’s empowerment for a week, a whole year or anywhere in between in scores of countries.

Some good resources include: a great site with over 27,000 opportunities abroad updated daily, a non-political, non-religious organization running over 100 programs in 25 countries, this site will help to find a project in most categories in up to 40 countries, and this well-run site with links to lots of excellent organizations and projects.

If this piques your interest, find a place and a position to plug into and get going. You’ll get as much out of it as you’re willing to put into it. Be ready to get your hands dirty and sweat for free, and make a difference.

Work-Stays: A Great Option For Travelers

As most travelers probably know, there’s more than one way to get yourself a great adventure abroad. Last week I wrote a bit about teaching ESL in a foreign country. One in particular is a work-stay arrangement.

Lots of establishments—ranging from host farms (organic and non-organic), lodges, B&Bs, backpackers hostels, and just plain homes—invite travelers to help out in exchange for accommodation and meals. The short-term “guests” pitch in some light labor (usually four hours or so a day) while getting meals, a bed, and a great big dose of the local culture in the process.

Due to the seasonal nature of agriculture, helping out on a farm bailing hay, picking grapes in a vineyard, or picking berries at an orchard can be a great way to survive a summer aboard on little to no money.

The old system was a casual arrangement whereby owners of farms asked for help by putting up a flyer on hostel notice boards. Word of mouth spread the work-stay gospel as well, and travelers soon began swapping information on the best locations, working conditions, and employers.

As like everything else, the method of finding the opportunities changed with the arrival of the internet. Now the web is loaded with good sites functioning as a digital, world-wide hostel notice board. Any traveler with a connection can find good opportunities, get advice, and interact with prospective employers around the globe.

Some helpful resources aimed at connecting travelers to work-stay opportunities include: one of the original work-stay info hubs, jobs geared toward resort work, a pretty comprehensive site with lots of opportunities, and another good site loaded with helpful links.

Skills like agriculture, animal care, boat-crewing, and carpentry are sought after in various pockets of the globe. Being a certified instructor of boating, tennis, or scuba diving are sought-after skills as well in resorts. Regardless of the monetary savings aside, the opportunity to live with the locals and participate in their day-to-day life is well worth the work, regardless of the monetary savings.

Skills like agriculture, animal care, boat-crewing, and carpentry are sought after in various pockets of the globe. Being a certified instructor of boating, tennis, or scuba diving are valuable in resorts. Aside from the monetary savings, the opportunity to live with the locals and participate in their day-to-day life is well worth the work.

Teaching Abroad: A Great Way To Travel

It’s a fact that travel dreams begin to intensify when summer is around the corner. For me and most other inveterate travelers I know, every fiber is starting to vibrate with an anxious need to hatch a plan pack a bag, and head off to far-flung places. The passport sings to us, asking to be paroled out of the drawer it’s been kept in for months. The question is, where and how? Money is tight, and gas prices are pushing plane fares upward. There are still great deals to be found, of course, but this summer it’s especially important to find ways to supplement income during the travels.

Teaching ESL (English as a Second Language) can be a great way to meet people and get steady pay. Tutoring locals interested in gaining a better grasp of the most commonly used language in the world can lead to great friendships, not just a few more Euros or Yuan. Often the job comes with low pay but great opportunities to experience a culture, travel widely, and meet some fascinating people.

Your chances of obtaining a decent ESL summer teaching gig are good in Asia. China is hungry for teachers to instruct adults. Their exploding economy means many professionals are looking to acquire a stronger command of English in order to be more competitive in the global marketplace. Japan, Thailand, and Korea have a vibrant market also despite less powerful economies.

The garden spots of Europe, however, are a tougher gig to land. Thriving Prague is a hot ticket. Gorgeous, cheap, and fun, the historic city is inundated with American, British and Australian college students eager to spend the summer tutoring by day and living it up at night. Dozens of private schools cater to the ever-more-Western business set looking to bolster their English skills. More easy-to-land opportunities can be found in the less-glamorous Polish and Russian cities.

If you’re on the search for ESL opportunities abroad, or have done it and want to share your insights and advice, please leave a comment!

Journaling on the Road

Let’s face it, finding time and discipline to write well on the road can be really, really tough. Traveling takes a lot of mental stamina. At the end of a long day, once you’ve found a dinner and settled into the hostel, the last thing you have the mental juice for is thoughtful writing about the day’s events. At that point, your brain doesn’t want to process or reflect. It wants to rest. It’s checked out for the night.

But I try to force myself to journal every night on my travels. I’ve got bags full of bits and pieces from my travels sitting in my closet, but the most important physical souvenirs are the small, leather-bound journals that gather dust on a bookshelf. The journals—weathered and worn—contain the thoughts and impressions of places and experiences recorded in the moment. Some entries are shallow and quickly scribbled; some are well-thought out and insightful.

Most travelers will tell you the same thing; their journals are frayed little time capsules of emotions and experiences they wouldn’t part with for the world. Sometimes they’re written on a rickety milk run train in the countryside, sometimes they’re written while perched on a rock high in the Alps while cowbells jangle in the distance. Sometimes the entries are well-crafted insights inspired while sitting in a soaring cathedral during evensong; other times they’re scribbled late at night while the eyelids are forcing themselves closed and the synapses are shot.

It takes discipline to keep up a journal on the road, but it’s well worth it. We’ll return to the smudged pages at some point in the future and be reminded of a vivid memory, surprising impression, or fleeting thought. And we’ll be glad we had the discipline to stop and record it, even when the train ride was bumpy and the eye lids were heavy.

Pick up that pen, open the book and record a memory to cherish.

The What-ness, part 2: Choose what to lose

When you’re trying to write about your experience of a place, whether for yourself or an audience, it’s tempting to adopt the narrative form we were taught in school. After all, it was drilled into us for years, over and over again. Therefore it’s no surprise that when you open many a travel journal or travelogue you’ll often see rote accounts of trips. Many of them read like a bureaucrat’s report to the head office. It’s death by a thousand details.

The point is, rote accounts won’t achieve what you want to achieve: capturing the fundamental “what-ness” of a place. As in, the “what-ness” of a place or feeling; the core essence of it. Readers from last week will recognize the term from my old philosophy professor (actually, I don’t think it’s a term).

If you want to transcend this and capture the “what-ness” of a place or experience, ditch the narrative and narrow your focus. In other words, choose what to lose. This is really a matter of self-restraint and decisiveness.

For example, lose the superfluous stuff like the plane’s arrival, the ride from the airport, and the reviews of the food you ate. Lose the comments on prices. Lose the talk of “quaintness” and “idyllic”. We already know certain places are idyllic and quaint. Other places are dreary or foggy or crowded. These words give us nothing.

Focus instead on the conversation you had with a lifelong local. He likely imbued the place a more human dimension or gave you a clearer historical perspective. Pick out a few key moments that really crystallized the personality of the place. Record the thoughts and impressions with words that pop; use words that render the place or experience in clear tones.

It’s challenging; I face this problem in writing my new novel. It’s easy to cram in mundane and blandly written details or clichés as I describe the book’s foreign settings. Instead, I strive to pinpoint something that gives meaning and emotional heft, and then try to render it in a multidimensional way that reaches through the page and pulls the reader in.

So, if you’re struggling to capture something special for your journal or for an audience, forget what you’ve learned. Choose what to lose. Figure out what’s meaningful and breathe life into it using words that sing.

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Comb through your memories and pick a few the most vivid experiences that truly embody or illustrate the experience or place. Expand on those.

There are two reasons why people write about their travel. The first is to capture a sense of place in their own private journal, in order to document the experienced of a place, and return there any time they crack the book open in the future. The second is for others’ consumption. Regardless, the each writer faces the same task: How to give a richer portrait of the place anf the experience of being there, and avoid using tired clichés?

It’s so easy and so tempting to spout out flat, tired fluff about “quaint” villages, “charming” towns, and “idyllic” beaches. You don’t want to sounds like a glossy brochures. Those are fine adjectives (and I use them from time to time) but they’re really overused, and thus lose their impact.

Plus, clichés paint only a two-dimensional portrait. Good travel writing is kind of like creating a personality profile of a place; to give the reader a more three-dimensional feel for the place. In other words, pulling in sensory data is really important to draw the reader into the location emotionally.

Credit card and phone fees — wasteful ways to blow a hole in your budget

Savvy travelers probably know these things, but I know some who are still behind the curve and going abroad soon. So here’s an update: Though many report having no problems at all using their US mag-stripe cards and ordinary ATM cards abroad, make sure your credit or debit card has a smart chip. The global standard is “chip and PIN” technology, meaning you’ll need to enter a PIN after the terminal reads the card’s chip. Call your credit card company and ask for a new card with a smart chip for the “chip and signature” option. Most cards without the chip will still work sans-PIN at most automated kiosks though, since a signature is generally not needed for purchases under $50.

Another thing to keep in mind when pulling out the plastic abroad: When in doubt, go with the debit card. Though your bank likely charges a currency conversion fee in transactions abroad, credit card fees are usually almost twice as high as debit card transaction fees. Capital One does not charge foreign transaction fees at all, so it may be worth getting one just for your travel use. If you want other card options, the helpful site NerdWallet.com has a list of cards that don’t charge them either.

Roaming charges for calls can be another “under the radar”-type budget buster. Smartphone users can rack up big roaming fees unless they remember to switch on the device’s Airplane Mode and Wi-Fi when boarding the flight to a far-off place. Also remember to switch off the cellular mode.

Data usage costs more money overseas, but the International Data Plans from your provider are rarely the best option anyway; use Skype or Truphone instead (I’m a big fan of Skype) and, with a decent Wi-Fi signal, you can make international calls for dirt cheap. Estimate how much usage you’ll need. There is the ever-handy pay-as-you-go option or a monthly, flat-fee plan that allows unlimited calls in certain countries.

Alternatively, Facebook’s Vonage Mobile app enables globetrotters to make free international calls over Wi-Fi to Facebook friends who also download the app. If caller and recipient have iPhones, FaceTime is a great deal with one flat fee.

Now go have some fun!

The Joy of Research

When writing a novel involving places that actually exist, you need to get the details exactly right or the boat won’t float. And the details aren’t just in the names and locations. It’s the sensory data that pulls the reader in.

I’m currently in the process of writing such a novel. The story takes the main character on a treasure hunt from the dusty archives of Barcelona to the ramshackle seaport of Lisbon and finally to the humid jungles of South America.

Suffice it to say there’s lots of research is involved in such an undertaking. But that’s not to say it’s drudgery. Quite the opposite, actually; the joys will be familiar to many fellow travelers, trip planners, and history buffs.

The details of the various locals matter, big time; I’ve needed to get a sense of the atmosphere of these places to portray them on the page. Take for example one of the books early settings: The Archivo General de Indias in Seville, Spain. The building houses the world’s biggest repository of documents about the Spanish Empire’s expeditions during the Age of Discovery.

I had to be there to breathe in the mustiness that hangs in the air. I had to smell the dust from the ancient, historic parchments flanked by soaring pink marble columns. I had to feel the stale air settle into my lungs as the leather of an old journal’s binding cracks under my fingers as I open it. I had to watch other researchers trawl through yellowing documents, handwritten by real people lost to time. I had to wander the opulent library as historians pore over documents in hope that the faded ink scratches will yield insight.

The majestic old archive in Seville was, as in so many cases, merely the starting point of a larger and greatly enriching journey.

Some call book research “work”. I call it the fun part.

The What-ness of Travel

My college philosophy professor was fond of the term “what-ness.” As in, the “what-ness” of a place or feeling. Meaning, the core essence of it. Being a callow young man, at first I rolled my eyes and thought, “He’s nuts. That’s not even a word!”

But in time I became a fan of the concept, because it was really the perfect way to approach description. Now, as a professional writer, the concept is at the heart of my daily work. As I write my new novel—the plot of which involves a travel writer gallivanting through several countries—I’m well aware of the importance of capturing the soul of the locations. I stop myself from reaching for the same old clichés and hackneyed phrases and focus on the “what-ness”.

Just as my old professor taught me to.

The challenge is straight forward, but not easy. Our mandate is to render the location in vivid detail using all the sensory data we can muster.

The what-ness is comprised of the facets that add up to the whole impression. The good news is there’s no secret formula to reach the what-ness. The tools needed to render these places in almost-flesh-and-blood are in already us. They’re all around us, and they’re free.

Just focus on the sensory data.

For example, does the location of the given scene have a particular smell, perhaps giving clues to the dominant agricultural or commercial activity of the neighborhood? Or a noise that’s indicative of the place’s character? What are the visuals of the place—are the buildings fairly humdrum or are they freshly coated in an array of pastels? How are the people dressed? Do you dodge well-dressed professionals striding along, absorbed in their own cares? Or do you pass under lines of drying laundry hung from lines suspended from apartment balconies while grandmothers lean out open windows chatting with their neighbors?

These are just a few examples to give a sense of what I mean.

In future posts I’ll be expanding on ways to imbue these places with the magic necessary to touch the reader’s senses and emotions. By doing so, you are not just presenting the reader with a laundry list of facts; you are leading them to their own satisfying discovery of the “what-ness”.

The challenge is straight forward, but not easy.

I know, it’s tempting to try to bottle the soul of an entire city and give it to your audience to feast on. The instinct is noble but the end result usually does a profound disservice to the city itself. Such attempts will more than likely lead to a watering down of the place you’re trying to describe. And no place deserves a shallow generalization.

More importantly, such an attempt often does profound disservice to the reader. The reader has come to your words trusting your experience. They come for a taste of a place they’ve never been before—or at least a sample of a neighborhood they didn’t have the chance to get to know on their last visit.