I wonder if people wonder how I come up with these ideas of weird - no, exotic - places to travel to. Well, maybe they don't wonder, but I wonder how I come up with these ideas. When people lament that they don't know how to get to a place or that they don't have the time or the money, I often counter that traveling is easy and I can just pick up and go. Truthfully, it does take a considerable amount of effort to turn the fantasy of an ambitious trip into reality.
There was a time not too long ago when my parents and I took package tours to places like Boston and Canada, all from New York. We soon discovered the freedom of independent travel. That and it's far cheaper to travel on our own. That was the time when I didn't know that there were travel guides. Trip planning consisted of reading the advertised itinerary of a package tour and compare it with a map. I have to admit that planning a trip to me is a challenge and a learning experience. Throw a dart on a map, learn about the history and geography, find out what exactly is there to visit, devise a plan to get there, and have fun going there. After Maine, it was Virginia; after Florida, it was the West Coast; after Europe, it was Southeast Asia ... Over time I got more ambitious, and the destinations got more interesting and, dare I say, more exotic.
Most of my trips start out as a fantasy. As fantasies go, they could
be quite unrealistic and naive. After I returned from my summer job
in Singapore in 1994, I got a little restless as a bitter winter
arrived in Boston, and as I began to realize that the possibility of
another summer off far away from the States was quite remote. All
right, so I'll go to some place near next summer, I thought. The
Caribbean sounded like a good idea. A cruise! It's relaxing, and
it's romant... The idea was quickly ruled out. If
cruises are what they are billed to be, I ain't taking a cruise with my
buddies. My consolation was the realization that the gulf coast of
Mexico was exceedingly appealing with its Mayan ruins, sandy beaches, water sports, and
Cancún as the gateway to cheap airfare. Seven months later, May
95, I found myself dancing the Macarena (a year before it took over
the States by storm) will total strangers all in swimsuits on the
deck of a catamaran back from snorkeling. The fun didn't stop
there. Much to my surprise, I was awarded the prize - a little
clic-clak noise maker - for being the best dancer. I suppose some of
those ballroom dance workshops had somehow helped.
Somewhere along the line, the fantasy would have to either burst or
come down from the clouds. I call it the feasibility study stage.
Climbing the Himalayas can be done, but I don't have the inclination
to go through the years of mountaineering training or to acquire the
experiences
needed. The Maldives or the Great Barrier Reef are very doable and
appealing, especially since I like swimming and enjoy snorkeling, but
they are probably not worth my effort until I get a diver's license.
After having put some healthy mileage on our rental car during the
week-long trip in Yucatán in May, and finding ourselves managing
quite well in Spanish speaking territories, my thoughts turned south.
The Pan American Highway that stretches from Alaska to Tierra del
Fuego had always fascinated me. Looking at the map, I thought it'd be
great to drive it for three months and really make my car rental
worthwhile. Well, if you are not laughing at how naive this thought
was, you are as ignorant as I was, in which case I would recommend that
you read Tim Cahill's Road Fever. Tim Cahill and a professional
endurance driver drove the whole way in a half-ton GMC Sierra with
extra fuel tanks plus loads of sponsors' money, and set a world record
for driving the Pan American Highway. Out of the 278 pages, about
five were spent on the stretch through the U.S. Driving in the States
is simply too nice, too tame, and too boring.
Sunil, who drove our Avis Ford Escort in Yucatán on one-lane undivided highways at 120 kilometers a hour, was excited about the idea of visiting Tierra del Fuego. I looked at the map, thought that it's a meaningful challenge to visit the southernmost tip of the Americas, but found Antarctica to be seductively close. Maybe there is a ferry across! - another naive thought. On the other hand, I did go to the Coop at Harvard Sq. and got myself a Lonely Planet guide on South America. Plenty of information on South America, but no mention of how to get to Antarctica. (To be more correct, LP does have a few paragraphs on Antarctica in its Argentina guide. Around November 1996, it also published its first edition of an Antarctica guide.) I looked around for leads on passage to Antarctica in the next two months. Finally, a South African fellow responded to my post on an Internet newsgroup, and sent me some info. He's clearing out his bank account to cover the three thousand sterling pounds needed for a cruise to Antarctica. I admired his determination. Later on, I also got information from a cruise company. Seems that they are mostly luxury cruise ships. After reading that formal wear is recommended at some events on the ship, I decided that this is not for me, at least not right now.
