Taking a trip around the world

Warm high altitude sun beat on my face as a cool gentle breeze blew down the back of my neck. I thought, “I’m nobody special, but this trip is going to be extraordinary.” I close my eyes and listened to the water lap gently against the gunnels of the boat. I smelled fresh clear air mixed with diesel fuel as the small boat chuged along on Lake Titicaca in Peru. On that particular day my first destination was the Uros Islands. up until the I had only heard about these remote islands made of reeds on which an ancient people lived, gently floating around on one of the highest lakes in the world.
The first leg of the eight-hour boat ride nears a stop. Our Capitan, smelling of damp wool and no shower, smiled a coca leafed smile and slowed the engine. Chug. Chug. Chug… A bowline was secured to a large wood post with a creek of the rope. Our cheesy band of backpacker tourist began to exit the woodcraft. Each person jumped about five feet from the deck onto the floating island. It sounded like kids playing in a hayloft with giggling and crunching hay. Alas it was my turn and I landed with a crackling crunch, I immediately felt my brain kick start that part it uses for balance. It fel like I was standing on that old waterbed I had in College. I shifted my weight and felt one foot sink a little deeper into the reed matt and reveled in childish enjoyment.
Suddenly I had a memory from child hood. I’m very young and back in my parent’s basement looking at a National Geographic, lying on the floor wrapped in an old quilt that smelled safe, like Grandma. I don’t think I could read very well at that time but I definitely remember that magazine. There were no pictures of half naked pigmies, damn, but there were pictures of floating island made of reeds where a colorfully dressed people live. Smiling, thinking back to my youth in Nebraska, I think, it may have taken a few years but now I know the ground does move as I walk on the floating Uros Islands of Lake Titicaca.
While on this island in the middle of the highest navigetalbe waterway in world I realized that the first five weeks of my around the world, seven content adventures had been fantastic and that the next eight months will hold many untold adventures and experiences. This accumulation of experiences will be extraordinary.

Travel is something that is very near and dear to my heart. When I returned from my great adventure around the world I had flown over sixty thousand mile, visited all seven contents, twenty six countries, spent less then a new sport utility vehicle, found the woman of dreams (with whom I am now married) and realize, “boy, that was really pretty easy”.
In talking with so many people about this trip I started to wonder why more Americans don’t travel? Are we as a nation programmed to be wary of traveling outside of our own land? Why are we so uptight about taking more then two weeks off of work in a row? What are we afraid off?
I think it comes down to simple fact that extended travel outside the country is not encouraged in our society and that the small differences found overseas are what make us nervous at the thought of foreign travel. It is for this reason I write this book. If this guide can help even just one person to take that step into the extraordinary and to really embrace the experiences traveling has to offer, then it will be a great success.
Don’t worry, I jump on the soapbox a bit here but there really is allot of practical useful information in this book and hopefully some stories that will make you smile.

My basic philosophy on traveling is to go as a traveler and not a tourist. It is entirely possible to travel all the way around the world and only eat hamburgers, McDonalds hamburgers if you want and drink Budweiser, however, you would miss out on so much. Don’t get me wrong sometimes a taste of home is nice however why eat what you can get across the street at home when there is something that you have never seen before at your fingertips. Tourist are people who want to go someplace other then home but have all the comforts of home. Travelers are people who go someplace other then home and want to experience all that there is to offer. I think here in lies the primary reason why many Americans don’t travel for extended periods of time in other countries. In a nutshell we are scared of the unknown, we may like the idea of being a traveler but in reality we don’t know what to expect. Hell, the money is different, the food is different, the language is different and the toilets may be different, oh no. I really don’t think that this way of thinking is really our fault. The United States is bordered to the north by Canada, which most Americans have no desire to visit and feel it is almost exactly like the U.S. only some people speak French. WHY!! (Sorry to the Canadians, but it’s true) Then we are bordered by Mexico to the south, which is notorious for being one of the most corrupt countries in the world and has a reputation as being nearly impossible to visit and not get diheria. The extreme size of the United States is another factor. For U.S. citizens it isn’t required to exchange money if you want to go to the beach, or skiing, or shopping or even to visit Grandmas house. It is possible to drive in a straight line in North America for days and the money, the language, the fast food restaurants all stay the same. It is no wonder that such a small percentage of Americans travel outside the United States.
In comparison, in Europe it is completely plausible that you may cross a border to go shopping, or on vacation. Changing money, languages and cultures is a very real, very common occurrence. It is for this reason that I think that Europeans travel so much more then Americans. Going through a border crossing for many Europeans is about as scary as an American going through a fast food Drive through. It is also for this reason that I can see why Europeans get frustrated when Americans only know one language, but hey, if you grow in the United States there isn’t a reason to know any other languages. I’m not saying its right I’m just saying it’s a fact. Most Americans can talk in Southern or New York accent just about as easy as a Dutchman can speak French or German.
Now lets talk about the media. Is it the average Americans fault that a dog that adopts a litter of kittens makes the national news and nothing is heard about a great joyous festival of five hundred thousand in the third world happened without incident? No. The point is most Americans don’t care about the festival and would like to hear about the Dog with kittens, it sells more advertising. However what this does though is it dramatically skews the views of the rest of the world. For the most part the only things to hit the three-minute world review on the news are always bad. Combine the six o’clock news with the action adventure villains of the Holly Wood and this just helps to amplify the dangers of the unknown. The ironic thing is that it works both ways there are many people all over the World who are afraid to visit here because of the dangers.
I would even go so far as to say they are right. I can think of very few counties that if you were on a bus, didn’t speak the language, looked different and got lost a half a mile from the bus station that you could get beat up, robbed or killed simply for sport. Think about it, where is you local bus station? Allot of times only these bad events are reported about the U.S. in other countries.
When I was in Tenant Creek Australia having dinner with some other travelers I got to talking with a Japanese guy. After awhile our conversation drifted towards crime. Very shyly he asked, “Do you own a gun?” Now I’m from Nebraska and grew up hunting so I answered honestly and said, “Yes, I have a few.” He looked at me in horror, averted his eyes to his lap and then whispered in all sincerity “Have you ever shot someone?” “No, of course not!” This Japanese guy was not stupid, in fact I got the impression he was quite intelligent. As absurd as those question may sound to an American this guy was simply making educated inquires on information he had received from his Media and Hollywood. So the stereotypes he felt were a result of his environment as much as the dangers we feel about other countries are a result of our environment.
The old saying “The World is your oyster” is so very accurate. In our times of transportation it is possible to travel almost anywhere. It is cheaper to travel in the Third world simply sipping cocktails and experiencing life then it is to work and barely get by in the United States. If a person were to drive an old, simple car and put away the same amount of money they would have spent on a car payment and full coverage insurance for just two years, it would be possible to take a trip around the world. It may not be fancy but there is a good chance you might actually stay in nicer places and eat better food then you would have at home and there is no doubt the experiences accumulated would be a treasure no one could ever take away. In addition the appreciation for the opportunities and freedoms we have in the United States will grow by leaps and Bounds. Whenever I travel I become so Patriotic for the U.S. and usually frustrated with our governments foreign policy.
In regards to the length of a trip I personally feel that two weeks off a year is shear lunacy. If I don’t take a least six weeks, preferably much more, I find it difficult to slow down enough to really relax and take stock of what I should be doing, what direction I should be heading and clearing my brain out. I find when I can go for a longer trip my priorities can really come into focus. Don’t get me wrong, I am a hard core Capitalist and fully embrace my Mothers philosophy of “When you work, Work hard and when you play, Play harder.” I’ve worked many eighty-hour weeks in my life both for myself and for others but I have always tried to take a good amount of time to travel to review my priorities. So when you decide to take a big trip don’t be afraid of taking plenty of time air travel is the most expensive part of traveling, if you can slow down and travel overland and visit fewer places it usually is a much more rewarding experience.
The Ugly American
I was the only American on the bus, sitting at the back, waiting to head down the road to the Bolivian Border crossing. A larger lady in her mid forties was the last to jump on board. For the purpose of this story I will call her “Mable.” Obviously no one had told “Mable” that the super sized sampsonite with tiny wheels and a convient pull out handle was great in airports or on a sidewalk but wasn’t practical luggage for the pothole filled dirt roads of Peru. I watched as she drug the huge beast, twisting and scraping on its sides with its use less wheels spinning in the air. She stopped and driver rolled his eyes and in a very undelicate manners hoisted up onto the roof of the bus, luckily he avoided a hernia. Evidently the same person was suppose to inform Mable about the luggage neglected to inform her that in parts of South America you may have an assigned seat but it really doesn’t matter especially if you are the last one on the bus. Of course someone was in Mable’s seat and as soon as I heard her shrilly say, “Bus Driver, this man is in my seat”, I knew she was a first class Ugly American. The bus driver didn’t understand English so Mable just talked louder. She could have been yelling “where is the Wal-Mart, and it would n’t have made any difference. I slunk down in my seat embarrassed and ashamed by my countryman. The argument continued just as I was about to get up to try and help out and save some face for my country the man moved and Mable won her seat. The driver returned to the roof to put a plastic tarp over the luggage. While riding in the back I had the opportunity to get really angry with Mable. She was the reason why Americans have such a bad stigma when traveling. Finally we arrive at the Bolivian border and everyone files out of the bus and goes through the no mans land between the two countries and waits at the far side. The broken blacktop road has degraded in to a very rough dusty dirt road. There is a small simple concrete building with a steel roof that is the Bolivian entry point. As we wait in line to get our passport stamped the hair on the back of my head stands up and I cringe. “Driver, I forgot my passport in my bag, I need you to get it down for me.” Someone sees the driver and translates what Mables new needs are, and to his credit it didn’t argue. She follows him over to the bus through no mans land climbs up on top, pulls the tarp off and liberates her pass port. Now I’m wondering what in the hell is Mable thinking. Everyone on that bus know that we were going to the border and when you cross borders you need you damn passport. The line moved forward and it was my turn to meet the immigration officer. I went through no problem and tried to forget about Mable. The bus waited for her to get through immigration and everyone learned at her once she climbed back on board to her empty assigned seat. Eventually we arrived at our destination and I looked where Mable was going and went the exact opposite direction, I didn’t want anything to do with her.
Several Hours latter I was sitting at a café watching the sunset enjoying a beer and sure enough Mable comes walking buy. Evidently she had found a room or perhaps she had simply abandoned her monster sampsanite. She recognized me from the bus and ask what time it was. The moment of truth, I could answer in a German accent, or say “No Habla English”, but I just said “about 6:15.” “Oh, your from America” O.K. here we go this is my opportunity to chew her out, country man to country woman. I take a deep breath and get ready to fire away. “Can I buy you a Coke?” I think, what happened I though I was going to chew her out. Then the good side of my conscious said, be nice. Mables had a tough day. Mable graciously accepted and sat down to join me. Before I new what hit me she was explaining how her boyfriend had just dumped her the night before and he spoke Spanish but she didn’t and that this was her first time out of the country and that this was her first traveling alone and that she was so afraid when was going to get ripped off then she finally took a breath. But none of that mattered because she wasn’t going to let guy dumping her spoil her trip and she was going to have a good time. Dam nit.
My first though was, who would date you. Then I realized that that was evil and I tried to conve to Mable that maybe if she wasn’t so aggressive and loud that things might go a bit smoother for her. Mable “well I don’t speak Spanish” I Replied “So, neither do I except where is the bathroom and may I please have another beer.” Mable “But I’m traveling alone” I responded “So am I, it’s the best way to meet people” She looked at me questionly but started to relax. Mable finished her Coke thanked me and walked on down the road.

I ordered another $.25 beer and realized that Mable was just scared and as an American in a foreign environment she was very untrusting and expected the worst. Her natural, very American, reaction was to get aggressive and loud. That’s what we are trained to do. I don’t condone this type of behavior but I do think that I have a better understanding of it. Mable really had nothing to worry about and if she has chosen to look at things in a different light her experiences would have been very different. When on the road there will always be things that happen unexpectedly. It happens to everyone. The important thing is to way the consequences and try to just go with the flow. It’s important to remember that you’re a guest in another country, things will be different, but different doesn’t mean they are wrong. So when I run across that Ugly American I try to offer to buy them a Coke and let them know things are just a little different there’s no reason to be afraid

I know I have traveled more then most but allot less then some. Before I met my wife I would only travel solo. It is amazing how if you are traveling by yourself it is nearly impossible to not meet people. Traveling has now become something that both my wife and I really need to do. However, it is allot like Pandora’s box. The more we travel the more we realize how little we have seen and little we have experienced. I would not trade the experiences I had on my world journey for any amount of money, and I really mean it. If you have the desire to become a traveler, you can, it’s easy and if there is a will there is always a way.

So if you are of the mindset of “I’m no body special” even though everyone is. Remember, it really is easy to do something Extraordinary and that wealth of experiences is something you will have forever.
Keep Smiling