Some people travel as a vacation: to decompress from life’s stresses, to shut down and escape. Others view travel as a vocation in itself. I’m one of the latter. Every journey is like a life in microcosm. At the beginning we’re energetic and naïve, filled with wonder at the strangeness that surrounds us. By midway, experience has dulled our shine; we see a little less, perhaps...
The tortured sounds of the alphabet song drifted across the lobby for the fifth time that day. From the next room, rising above the muffled voices, I heard, “Teacher, what does it mean, ‘feces’?” I sighed and rubbed my eyes, fighting sleep. “What is…. what is surprise?” Tomio, the pudgy bald Japanese salaryman sitting across from me, jiggled a leg beneath...
The endless steaming ribbon of road unrolls before you like a film. Heat haze shimmers and distorts the horizon, breaking the asphalt into tiny lakes which dissolve into nothingness as you rocket on through. A lanky saguaro cactus seems to nod at your passing; but maybe that’s just the red shift. Your hair whips and flutters in the slipstream, bleached blond by the desert sun. The land...
In addition to reviewing classic works of travel literature, I’d also like to draw your attention to works of outstanding artistic merit. The sort of thing that’s likely to appeal to those who enjoy my prose. The music of The Church has formed the soundtrack for every journey I’ve ever taken. Allow me to introduce you to their latest album: Untitled #23. Untitled...
Vagabond Dreams Outtakes are “deleted scenes” from my book. Think of them as a “Special Features” disc of outtakes and curios. This incident took place in the highlands of Guatemala… One night, sitting in my room, I heard a woman sobbing. It echoed through the courtyard, sounding heartbroken and forlorn. I imagined a lover’s quarrel or a breakup, a young girl...
Desert travel blurs all time sense. I don’t know if it’s the hypnotic motion of the camel or the endless monotony of the scenery. The mind works on two levels simultaneously. The automatic level is watching the route, choosing a path, adjusting for balance. The other level is flowing along rivers of memory, through labyrinths of thought, reliving past events and acting out future...
In the lost paradise isles of the Turks and Caicos an empty curve of icing-sugar sand gives way to the salty tongue of turquoise surf. Distant white caps crash mute on the barrier reef, where dolphin and stingray cruise in endless procession. The island of Providenciales and the smaller cayes are host to upper crust resorts and the posh vacation homes of Bruce Willis, Donna Karan, and my friends...
I normally stick to recommending classics of travel literature, but I’m going to break my own habit because I enjoyed this book so much. This slim first novel from renowned poet Forrest Gander punches well above its weight in ounces. It’s the perfect size for the side pocket of your backpack, and great travel reading because, like poetry, you’ll find yourself returning to it...
Vagabond Dreams Outtakes are “deleted scenes” from my book. Think of them as a “Special Features” disc of outtakes and curios… We come back changed because travel exposes us to new ways of knowing and seeing. But it’s more than that. In the same way that physical exercise strengthens the body, solitary travel and the pains and hardships that accompany it hone...
A thin mist broke over pale green rice fields in a wet hill-wrapped bowl in the Shan Highlands of northern Burma. An ox chewed its cud. Smoke rose from bamboo huts on the fringes, and longyi-clad men swung slow-motion sickles in garden plots. From over the next hill came the plaintive cry of the train from Mandalay, winding laboriously from village to village, overloaded with...
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