World Travel Guide Online

It’s an inescapable fact in the foreigner scene abroad: a divide exists between backpackers and expats, and the animosity that emanates between the two sides can sometimes be as spicy as Thai green curry. Among the expat community, “tourist” and “backpacker” are often used as dirty words, whereas “expat” can be sometimes be heard with a negative tone amongst backpackers.
Having been both a backpacker and an expat myself, I’ve experienced and observed the animosity from both sides. Both expats and backpackers usually have genuinely solid reasons for any ill feelings that may exist between the two.
That said, many backpackers and expats get along just fine. Indeed, as one expat put it: “backpackers seem mostly like nice kids. I give ‘em lift when I’m going their way.” And many backpackers see expats not as a source of abhoration, but as a source of infinite knowledge about the town or city they’re in.
But one cannot ignore the snide comments, the malevolent looks, the crude jokes, and the general hostility that are often hit back and forth in touristy towns between those foreigners who are visiting, and those foreigners who are staying. Despite the fact that many expats may claim everlasting love for backpackers, the t-shirts hanging in the windows of many shops in backpacker towns proclaiming, “If it’s tourist season, why can’t we shoot them?” would have many believe otherwise.
So, let’s give each side their fair say.
Hey guys, why all the hate?
First, let’s start by defining, just so that there can be no misinterpretations, just what exactly is a backpacker, and what is an expat.
Expat is short for expatriate, which is defined by the Oxford dictionary as a person who lives outside their native country.
The Oxford dictionary doesn’t carry the term ‘backpacker’, but the Macmillan dictionary defines a backpacker as someone, especially a young person without much money, who travels around an area on foot or public transport, often carrying a backpack.

Backpackers Weigh In

The differences may lie in the very different situations that people from each side find themselves in, explains Digby Smith, an Australian who backpacked around Southeast Asia. “Expats can be on a different wavelength due to being familiar with their surroundings and often have other priorities.” Smith also acknowledges that his kind may be to blame: “In party towns and cities, I think backpackers can annoy some expats.” However, he points out that expats are not totally innocent: “I have noticed them to be rude and sometimes a bit arrogant towards local staff,” says Smith.
Backpacker Scott Gibson, originally from Canada, is a little more blunt when it comes to his feelings about expats. When asked how he feels about them, he replies simply, “not a huge fan.” He explains why: “they tend to want to share their infinite wisdom of a place with you in a very condescending way. As far as males go, I think it’s pretty pathetic to move somewhere so you can be with a woman normally out of your league because of your money.”
Johan Falk, who hails from Sweden, has been backpacking for over a year. “I feel sorry for most of the ones I’ve met in Southeast Asia. It seems like most of them are here for one reason: boom boom, except for the ones that work with dive shops or running a serious guesthouse.” Falk says he feels that most expats tend to have an I-was-here-first attitude, making other travelers feel unwelcome. All this being said, Falk qualifies that often these expats are the exception to the rule: “I’ve met so many nice expats willing to offer their time and help.”

Expats Get Their Say

Expats, of course, have their own take on the situation.
Anne-Marie Drozdz, an expat living in Vietnam, had one particularly off-putting experience with backpackers when she was living in Turkey, and went on a cruise: “There were 19 ’round the clock drunken backpackers,” she explains. “They were loud and disrespectful towards the Turks. They created havoc on this four-day trip.” Drozdz also explains that she felt animosity from those same backpackers when they discovered she was an expat, living in Turkey at the time.
Drozdz gives her take on the possible reason for expat animosity towards backpackers: “Expats have a deeper knowledge and understanding of the culture, language and customs of the host country and when they see backpackers barreling in for a few hours and being disrespectful or whatever, then maybe that causes resentment.”
Nicole Hill, who lived as an expat in Central America, says that expats have every right to make a stand when backpackers cross the line: “We’re the ones who have to deal with the lasting impression it creates of foreigners, Brits, Americans, whatever. Even if you’re not one of the ‘bad’ tourists, by virtue of the fact that you’re going to be moving on soon, you’ll behave differently to those of us who live and work in places.”
Manis Ender, originally from Germany and living in Thailand, acknowledges that there may be subconscious animosity towards backpackers from expats. “I have no honest interest in them, their stories, or countries they have traveled,” says Ender. “Often they just bore me on the first sight.” Ender goes further to explains that backpackers often give off a bad image, which makes him prefer to avoid them: their dress code, their pack-like behaviour, as well as their ignorant and arrogant behaviour are all things that Ender finds off-putting.

Can’t We All Get Along?

Digby Smith thinks so. He suggests that expats be more mindful of backpackers’ predicaments: “I think that expats can forget they were once new to the area and forget that they may have been in the same position.”
Anne-Marie Drozdz thinks that backpackers should also be mindful of their surroundings, saying that they might take care to “behave reasonably towards the local community and respect the culture.” Drozdz says that everyone – expats and backpackers, should try accepting people “for what they are and respect their decisions to either travel short-term or stay in a country.” (Unless they are pedophiles, she qualifies.)
At the end of the day, it seems that each side has its valid points. The positive side is that both backpackers and expats are able to acknowledge the others’ strengths, and their own weaknesses, which is the first step towards building a strong relationship.
We certainly won’t be seeing expats and backpackers singing kumbayah on Khao San Road any time soon, but if each side is ready to make some concessions, there might be the possibility for a little more love in the world abroad.

The Pyramids of Giza, The Luxor Temple, Abu Simbel and the Valley of the Kings, all of these attractions are at the top of everyones must see list in Egypt, but very few manage to find the time to hop in a 4X4 jeep and discover the remote destination of The White Desert.

For one thing a trip to the center of the country must be far too expensive, time consuming and difficult to plan. However, a 3-day trip from the Dahab Hostel in Downtown Cairo can be booked for a bargain price of 450e ($80) per person for 2 nights and 3 days. The trip includes all meals and transfers a visit to the hot springs, a 4X4 ride in the sand dunes that you won’t soon forget and an extraordinary night camping Bedouin style in the White Desert.

A five-hour coach ride takes you from Cairo’s downtown bus station to the small town of Bahariya, the jumping off point for safaris into the desert in Egypt’s interior. The scenery is spectacular. Vast rolling dunes disappear into the clear blue sky for as far as they eye
can see.

By mid-afternoon, the coach arrives at the guest-house where travelers are fed a traditional Bedouin meal of red sauce and potato, with rice, pita and sweet tea. Delicious. Not a lot of time to settle in though, because within the hour, you are back on the road to head to the main attraction.

Make sure to buy a traditional headscarf before leaving the compound to keep the sand out of your face and for added warmth at night, because the next 2 days are filled with extreme climates that will surprise even the most seasoned traveler.

Hopping into the back of a 4X4 jeep, gives a real sense of adventure. Bumping along the road in the intense heat surrounded by sand makes you fell as though you are in an Indiana Jones Movie.

It is not long until you enter The Black Desert, a nice prelude to the forthcoming White Desert. Climbing a high peak you will overlook an amazing desert vista. Black pebbles caused by erosion blowing in from the mountains cover the entire land, turning it to an ominous dark shade.

Making sure to keep with the feeling that you are truly traveling off of the beaten path, you will pass through a couple of security check points with armed guards and road blocks. The thrill is worth it because the instant you are allowed through check point number two, the terrain instantly turns to a white landscape that looked as if a blanket of snow has just fallen on the ground.

White monoliths jut out of the sand and become larger and more impressive until you reach your final destination. A campsite surrounded by the most amazing rock formations seen on this planet. Giant pure white sculptures resembling mushrooms, camels and hawks scatter the landscape. Made of chalk, these works of art are formed by wind and erosion. Solid enough to walk upon, yet so fragile that they can flake off with the stroke of a hand.

Bedouin guides prepare the camp putting up traditional walls made of thick material. They cover the ground with woolen blankets and start a fire to keep you warm. Three colorful walls surround the camp to block the wind with the front open to the fire. The shelter remains roofless to reveal the starry sky and everyone huddles together to settle in for a thrilling evening in the middle of the Sahara Desert.

Day two starts with a hearty breakfast and then it is back to Bahariya for an unforgettable 4X4 adventure through steep dunes. The ride is long and full of excitement as people are tossed about hitting heads on the roof, but laughing through the entire drive. The hot springs are a welcome change to the high-energy thrill ride.

The day ends with a hike up to a high plateau for one final look at the desert landscape and to take in that final view of the mythical Sahara Desert. It may not be the most popular trip on an Egyptian itinerary, but it is certainly the most thriling and spectacular, giving unique memories that will rival any adventure that you will experience in your life.

Don Wildman: Tireless Explorer

Don Wildman has crisscrossed the globe as the host of the History Channel’s Cities of the Underworld. During its three-year run, the show filmed in over fifty cities across five continents. Along the way, Don went underground to visit ancient Grecian aqueducts, tombs of the pharaohs, and the churches of Ethiopian saints. Previously, he hosted ESPN’s Men’s Journal, CNBC’s Ushuaia: The Ultimate Adventure and The Travel Channel’s Weird Travels.

He is currently developing new shows, while also writing a book recounting his adventures. Online he can be found at http://www.history.com/cities-of-the-underworld.

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My parents subscribed to the idea that travel should be cheap and involve the woods.

I didn’t stay in a hotel or board a jetliner until I was a teenager. In the days when gas was 25 cents a gallon, we drove everywhere and stayed in campgrounds, preferably ones with clean bathrooms (but that never stopped us). I remember the day my Dad bought our Nimrod tent-trailer from some guy for $300 and a handshake. I can still see that “things are never gonna be the same again” look in my Dad’s eye. Boom, we were off.

I inherited my father’s ordered, pared-down priorities.

For him, it was about packing. He arranged the trunk of the car as a system of honeycombed grocery bags. Into these bags went all non-perishable food and clothing and if it didn’t fit, it didn’t go. I do the same now with my suitcase or duffel. To me, travel means freedom. Freedom means lack of burden. I travel a lot in my work and each time I go I try to leave something else behind. One day it’ll be the suitcase itself…and then I’ll finally be a happy, if incomplete man.

I prefer to feel as if I’m not traveling at all.

Wherever I am, I try to immerse, as if I live in the place I’m visiting even if I don’t know the place, any people, or the language. I’ll arrive and take a few walks just to get myself nice and lost. When I’ve found my way back to the hotel, I know the streets better than any guidebook could tell me.

The misconception about travel is that we need to know so much.

We just don’t. We need to know what makes us happy and opens our minds. We need to understand culture. That our lives are more than four walls, a driveway, and a backyard. Sometimes that takes one Paris arrondissement, not six and not every landmark in the guidebook either. Sometimes it’s not using a guidebook at all.

My strongest travel influence is Bruce Chatwin or anyone who enjoys getting into trouble when traveling.

It’s the glitches that make you remember life and, certainly, travel – the attempts that failed, the trains you missed, the lines you didn’t stand in. In this regard, I don’t think there’s much difference between travel and life. If you head into both expecting a good time any way it goes, you’re already enjoying yourself.

All of that is easy to say, though, when you wanted to see the Uffizi, got up too late and missed your chance…

A painful memory.

When I’m working I travel constantly.

We pile up 4-6 trips onto each other for budget reasons. I’ve gone from Ethiopia to Egypt to Turkey to Australia in one 8-week swing. So work, for me, is travel and vice versa. Thus, if I still want to call myself a “traveler” – and I do – I have to be determined to get mine, nonetheless. So I’ve gotten better and better about grabbing a day here and there to slip off with no one in-tow . I do this by train, scooter, or bicycle. Not car. I just go to see stuff if and where I can find it.

I am a terrible romantic about travel.

I believe that I should emerge from any journey having drunk much wine with many women late at night, danced to frenzied music on river barges or wandered the dusty stacks of old, un-touristed book stores. Basically I’d like to be traveling in a movie with Audrey Hepburn. Alas, this is not available to me so I must set my expectations a bit lower, especially on my schedule.

When I arrive in a new place, the first thing I do is find a cafe, library, or park in which to write letters to important people in my life.

I have a binder filled with personal stationery and I head to this location at some off-peak moment to sit down with a beer and jot things down. There is simply no better way for me to absorb the world around me than to record it for others. It forces me to take things in. But the best part of this exercise is finishing the letters then walking them to a post office to stand in line with the local population and buy stamps. And off they go. I love the fact that somewhere in the United States my friends are receiving pieces of paper I sent to them in foreign lands. Just as radio is still utterly mysterious to me, Air Mail can make my day.

My travel style is loose.

I want to feel like I’m not traveling. I’m never going to see or do everything in the world (or the guidebook) so best to concentrate on what matters most to me. Criteria? That which makes me grow. I figure I can suss a place out in about three days’ time. One, to walk around, two, to see some sights, three days to feel like I live there. Then I can leave, preferably in my own cabin on a train. Which reminds me…

Always travel in “3’s.”

Three is the magic number for everything in my life. Probably has to do with the Trinity or something. As applied to travel, the Rule of Three is incredibly efficient. You’ll never understand a place for real in one or two days but you could in three. Same goes for hours. Break up your day in blocks of three’s and you’ll always have enough time to enjoy anything and still manage several different experiences. But not too many! Less is more – in travel and life. Pack your suitcase in 3’s and you’ll have just enough clothing but not too much. If you do a load of laundry every three days it’s nothing but fun (coin laundromats get you very, very local).

It saddens me when people have unoriginal experiences, when things are packaged.

Then again, I don’t have a workaday career or limited vacation time. If I did I might want more guaranteed pleasure. But I see Americans piling off of buses or gathered in groups in hotel lobbies and wonder if they’re getting much of what it was they thought they paid for.

I like to listen to local radio.

Television is worthless in any land as it is the bland-same as sitting in my own home. CNN, BBC, and ESPN. But I can tune a transistor radio to something local and tinny and be the same as a cab driver or a kitchen worker.

I do look forward to going home.

Because if the travel was good, it makes home that much sweeter.

Travel should be like life – and life like travel.

The point is, in a perfect world it should be one and the same. My everyday life with the people I know and love should be as lively and enlightening as traveling can be so automatically. But of course it’s not. Sadly, I’m as bad as the next guy at living ordinary life in an extraordinary fashion. So, travel is always there to notch me up to the next level, where I ought to be living all the time. And if I put enough good trips together in the years I have left, I might actually live the life I was destined for.

“How I Travel” is a new BootsnAll series publishing every Tuesday in an effort to look at the unique and diverse travel habits of some of the world’s most well known and proficient road warriors. Got ideas for who we should talk to? Drop us a note.

You’ll find links to all the “How I Travel” articles on the How I Travel archive page, you can become a fan of “How I Travel” on Facebook, and you can follow the @howitravel profile on Twitter to get updates as soon as new features in this series are published.

all photographs provided by Don Wildman and may not be used without permission

Sourve:bootsnall.com

Johnny Jet: Rocket Man

Believe it or not, Johnny Jet used to fear flying. Now he seems to spend the majority of his time in the air. Born John E. DiScala, the Connecticut native first made a name for himself as an expert at collecting frequent flyer miles. Over the years, his wildly popular web site has also developed into a travel journal of sorts, in which he shares his musings from the road—along with tips for travelers to get the most from their own trips. As a travel writer he has published his work in a wide range of outlets including USA Today, COAST Magazine, MSN and Outside.

Besides JohnnyJet.com, Johnny also founded the sites AirlineNumbers.com, CarRentalNumbers.com, CruiselineNumbers.com and HotelNumbers.com which have the numbers of the companies featured so that you can speak to a human if booking online doesn’t work for you. He also created AlternateAirports.com, which helps travelers save money by pricing tickets to nearby airports. He can be found on Twitter at @JohnnyJet.

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My first travel memory was riding in the back of the station wagon with my brother and sisters driving up to Canada.

It wasn’t much fun since there was no GPS. My dad was horrible at directions and he wouldn’t listen to my mom. I often wonder if they would’ve fought so much if we had today’s technology.

I have a crazy travel style.

I’m usually staying at some of the world’s swankiest hotels (since those are the ones that can afford a PR firm) and I’m popping around cities, islands and countries like a pinball. I’m rarely at one hotel for more than 3 nights but I’ve adjusted to it – I think I’m ADHD anyway. When I’m traveling on my dime I find the cheapest possible mode of transportation, and can usually score a nice place to stay but for cheap. I’m good at finding deals. Real good!

It’s weird when I’m home in Manhattan Beach I usually don’t want to leave even when I’m going somewhere exotic.

But the moment I get on the plane – I usually don’t want to go home. It’s crazy. There are times when my fear kicks in and I don’t want to travel but then I think about all those poor people who are living vicariously through me because of their own health or financial conditions so I just put a smile on my face and realize how lucky I am.

Everyone thinks that the plane air is unhealthy but it supposedly has better filters than in a hospital.

I rarely get sick (knock on wood) and the reason why is because I make a conscious effort not to touch my face with my hands. I spend 30 seconds wiping down my surroundings when I first get on a plane (tray table, controls, seatbelt, overhead compartment bin…), or rent a car (steering wheel, radio…), and of course my Hotel room (knobs, handles, remote control, light switches) with one of those anti bacterial wipes. That does the trick!

I rarely research a place I go because I like to walk in with an open mind.

I usually only find out the currency exchange is, what plug adapter I need and the best way to and from the airport. I rarely carry a guidebook anymore but if I do – it’s Frommers (I write for them).

I don’t really have a favorite place to go – I seem to like them all.

But I could definitely live in Sydney, Hong Kong and anywhere in Europe (in the summertime).

The oddest thing I ate on a trip was a live grub worm in New Zealand.

A Maori took me hiking and showed me what I could and couldn’t eat. Here’s the story and video .

It all depends on the country but I usually stay away from street food…

unless it’s really busy with locals.

The first thing I do when I arrive at a new place is hit the ATM.

Then I go to my hotel and drop my bags off so I can go for a walk and check out the surrounding area. If it’s real late at night I will check email and take a hot shower before jumping into bed so I can get on local time. But that usually doesn’t work too well because I’m so excited to be somewhere.

Everybody’s body is different. For me I try to get on a local time when I get on the plane.

But I usually can’t sleep well on planes and I don’t take sleeping pills. If I arrive in the morning after a long flight I do my best not to sleep. Instead I go out in the sun for a long walk and if I have to sleep I nap outside for 20 minutes and then try and stay up to 11pm. If it’s raining and cold then I’m screwed.

I never leave home without…

…my laptop (Toshiba Portege), Blackberry and … Here are the other 14 products.

Be nice to everyone and be courteous.

Best thing to do if going to a foreign country is to read about their customs.

A great book on this is Kiss, Bow and Shake Hands.

Pack light and don’t check bags.

You can be so much more flexible and you will save a ton of time which in turn will make your trip that much better.

Right when I get home from a long international trip the first food I usually get is Mexican.

Because you can’t get good Mexican food out of the country except in Mexico and I don’t go there too often.

I grew up in Connecticut and have always been fascinated with air travel.

Even to this day I cannot believe these metal birds can get off the ground and carry so many people to such far distances in such a short amount of time. When I was younger, it blew me away that I could leave the freezing cold Northeast and be in hot and sunny Florida in just a couple hours.

My greatest travel secret is to be nice to everyone…

…especially the gate agents and flight attendants since they can make or break your trip. I almost always bring them a box of chocolates.

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“How I Travel” is a new BootsnAll series publishing every Tuesday in an effort to look at the unique and diverse travel habits of some of the world’s most well known and proficient road warriors. Got ideas for who we should talk to? Drop us a note.

You’ll find links to all the “How I Travel” articles on the How I Travel archive page, you can become a fan of “How I Travel” on Facebook, and you can follow the @howitravel profile on Twitter to get updates as soon as new features in this series are published.

all photographs provided by Johnny Jet and may not be used without permission

Sourve:bootsnall.com

At Sixty degrees North, they are literally the UK’s “Top” islands.

The Shetland Islands aren’t just ponies and Fair Isle sweaters. Shetland is a magical, ice-carved archipelago thriving in the North Atlantic, with a unique history and culture. And with its northerly latitude, Shetland can enjoy up to nineteen hours of sunshine in midsummer. The twilight in this month is referred to as the “Simmer Dim.”

But what truly justifies the 12-hour ferry journey from Scotland?

1. Scenery & Walking

Shetland’s coast is spectacular yet varied. From vertiginous, storm-ravaged cliffs to sheltered beaches of pristine sand, Shetland has it all. And with nowhere on the main island further than three miles from the sea, the coast is where you will spend most of your time. Some of the finest walking in Europe can be found here. And because Shetland is part of Scotland – and has been since 1468 – there are no laws of trespass. It is perfect for walking.

Make your way quite literally to the island above all others – to Unst, the UK’s most northerly island. Be sure to pause at the infamous bus stop on the main road, which has become progressively more luxurious and quirky. This much-loved bus stop began with just a comfortable armchair, but now houses a computer, television (no electricity though) and even fresh flowers. On last inspection, there were even some bright pink shoes in a drawer. You cannot miss it; there is only one road! From here there is a panoramic view.

For those that love reaching the top of a mountain, or the end of a road, continue to Hermaness. From here it is a three-mile walk to the end of the UK – well, almost. On the most northerly hill in Britain, you can gaze over the small rocky island of Muckle Flugga to Outstack, Britain’s northernmost point. But you can’t actually walk to it. What you can do, though, is consider the charming folklore behind Outstack. The rival giants Herma and Saxa, battling for the attention of a mermaid, are said to have hurled rocks at each other, one of which landed in the sea.

The giants then set off to follow the mermaid to the North Pole. But both of them drowned because they couldn’t swim! Gazing in their wake, the expanse of Atlantic lies before you: to the north is the Arctic, to the west is Greenland, and 200 miles to the east is Norway. But wait, there is a sound carried by the wind…

2. Wildlife

Over 17,000 breeding pairs of gannets shriek noisily at Muckle Flugga – it is a twitcher’s paradise. But they are not the sole ornithological draw on the archipelago, not by a long shot. For those seeking cute, inimitable puffins – Shetlanders call them “tammy nories” – they can be found in numerous coastal areas; in Hermaness, between May and September, you can see 25,000 of them in one fell swoop. Iconic Sumburgh Head, a stone’s throw from the airport, also has cliffs littered with puffins, as well as kittiwakes, razorbills, guillemots and fulmars. Seabirds-and-Seals offer expert boat trip tours around one of the many seabird colonies.

The eastern island of Fetlar, with its fertile soils and green landscape, is known as “The Garden Of Shetland.” And it is home to 90% of the UK’s breeding population of Red-necked Phalarope. Each summer, these stunning, charismatic little waders have visiting ornithologists jumping for joy. But if you’re coming to Shetland seeking birdlife, watch out for the “Skooty Aalins” (Arctic Skuas) and “Bonxies” (Great Skuas) dive-bombing the unwary visitor! Nesting areas can be a like a scene from Hitchcock’s The Birds – it may be worth carrying a stick.

Perhaps you’re more interested in mammals than birdlife? Well, “selkies” (seals) are to be found in many of Shetland’s “voes” – long, narrow sea inlets, found all over the archipelago. Often, sitting with a thermos flask on a remote beach, a grey or common seal will raise its head only a few yards away. They can also be found snoozing in the sunshine, hauled out on headlands all around Shetland. Sea otters, too, sometimes play along the beaches.

Because Shetland lies close to the European Continental Shelf’s edge, the water is nutrient-rich, providing a diverse and dynamic marine environment. Harbour porpoises (“neesicks”) frolic in the sea, as do Minke whales, Humpbacks and killer whales. Maybe you will be lucky enough to see the latter while taking one of the regular ferries between the eight served islands. May-September is optimal for whale sightings.

3. Crafts & Culture

Knitting is probably the best-known craft in Shetland. To that end, one animal you will certainly see plenty of is the sheep, an important island resource (and road hazard). Shetland sheep have exceptionally soft fine wool, used to produce gossamer lace, the famous Fair Isle knitwear, and fine tweeds. It is well worth taking a tour of the only mill on the isles.

From 17th – 20th June, Flavour of Shetland is held, a four-day festival of Shetland music, craft, culture and food. Be sure to sample the fresh fish and seafood on display, as well as unusual specialities such as seawater oatcakes and Shetland Black potatoes.

Although Scotland annexed Shetland in 1468, Scotland is spoken of as just another country that makes up the United Kingdom. Shetlanders are Shetlanders – an island nation, a people apart. Kilts and bagpipes do not play a part in the culture here. No, the influence is more Norse than Scottish. After all, Shetland was the first geographical landfall for 9th century Viking longboats. However, English – well, a version of it anyhow – is now widely spoken. And no trip is complete without a tale or two from one of Shetland’s outstanding storytellers.

Get two Shetlanders ’spaekin Shaetlan’ (speaking Shetland) together, however, and you may need a little assistance in deciphering the gist. Storytelling, traditional arts and crafts, music and dance all play an important role in the lives of Shetlanders. The only way to find out is to come and meet them! Will spooky stories of nocturnal goblins or “nuggles” (mythical water-horses that live under watermill streams) frighten you?

4. Music

Hardly a day passes without some sort of musical event in this vibrant community. And again, Norse influence is strong. Country dances and impromptu traditional sessions often take place, but there are a couple of major festivals too. Celebrating its 30th anniversary this year, the UK’s most northerly Folk Festival will be held 29th April – 2nd May. For those arriving by overnight ferry from mainland Scotland, the party starts on the 28th!

Violin playing is known as fiddling in Shetland. And one of the best times to visit is during Fiddle Frenzy, held 8th – 15th August. This festival is spread across the islands, and offers a chance not only to witness some outstanding fiddling, but to join a fiddle school during the day as well. Visitors can grapple with basic technique on Shetland’s most famous instrument, and learn of the culture and traditions that surround it.

2010 promises to be a special year – it is the centenary of the birth of Dr Tom Anderson, a man who saved and moulded the Shetland fiddle scene we know today. It is also the 50th anniversary of the Shetland Fiddlers. Fiddle playing in Shetland can be traced back to around 1700, and falls into three categories: listening tunes, ritual tunes and dance music. This is the year to try out your musical aspirations in a nurturing environment.

5. History

There are a number of very important archaeological sites in Shetland, one of which is thought to date from 4000 years ago. This can be found near the international airport, at Jarlshof Prehistoric and Norse Settlement, a complex of ancient settlements within three acres. Beginning with a Bronze Age village of oval stone huts, we slide through the epochs to an Iron Age broch (fortified tower). More recently still, there are remains of an entire Viking settlement, a medieval farmstead and a 16th Century laird’s house. The Jarlshof name comes from Sir Walter Scott – his novel The Pirates was inspired by the site.

Also in the south of Shetland is the finest of Scotland’s 500 or so Iron Age brochs. Remarkably well preserved due to its isolation – in fact, it is the best preserved broch in the world – Mousa Broch stands at a height of over forty feet. Taking the ferry from Sandwick, across to the island of Mousa, is half the fun of visiting. You can climb to the top of the tower between the two, thick, stone walls. Torches are provided in a box at the entrance – it is darker than you would imagine!

One place you really shouldn’t miss is St. Ninian’s Isle, reached via one of the very best tombolos in Europe. This is a spectacular bar of golden sand, traversable at all but the highest of tides, leading to the ruins of a 12th Century chapel. A hoard of 8th Century Celtic silver was found underneath in 1958. The buried treasure is now stored in Edinburgh, but replicas can be found in The Shetland Museum.

How to Get to the Shetland Islands & Where to Stay

The Shetland Islands are remote. There’s no way of getting away from that fact, but that doesn’t mean they’re inaccessible. Nightly ferries ply between Shetland’s port of Lerwick and Aberdeen on the east coast of Scotland. Boats also leave from Scrabster in northern Scotland via the Orkney Islands. Flights to Shetland leave from Glasgow, Edinburgh, Aberdeen or Inverness.

On arrival, it is certainly possible to travel to all the inhabited islands by public transport. There are bus services combined with ferry services, but it may be an adventure and require some planning! You can also hire a car, available for collection at both the airport and ferry terminal.

How cheaply can you stay in Shetland? Very, is the answer. There is a network of eight “bods”- buildings once used to house fishermen and their gear – at the time of writing, but you will need your own bedding. Managed by Shetland Amenity Trust, these unique historical buildings offer a real budget option. They range from £6-£8 (without or with electricity) per person per night. Check out camping-bods.com for more details.

A good budget place to start, though, is at the Youth Hostel in Lerwick, a fifteen-minute walk from the ferry terminal. There are a number of accommodation options in Shetland, but for those that really want to push the boat out, consider staying in one of the lighthouses. This is not cheap, but with a group of up to six people, it is affordable, and offers unrivalled views of some of the most dramatic scenery in Britain.

photos by Barnaby Davies and may not be used without permission

Source: bootsnall.com

Almost three years ago, I was on a bus heading from the airport in Dublin to city center. As an eager tourist, I listened in politely on the conversations around me, smiling at the jovial ups and downs of the Irish accent. Suddenly, a conversation caught my attention that I couldn’t quite understand. I stared intently, blatantly ignoring all of my manners, and allowed my jaw to drop slightly as I strained to hear just one word I could comprehend.

But no matter how long I listened, I would never have understood. They were speaking Gaeilge (GAYLE-guh), or Irish. No, it’s not a very strong accent; it’s actually a completely separate language. Call me an ignorant American, but I thought the language was dead; quite to the contrary as I find out. Having lived in Gaillimh (GAHL-yiev) or Galway, as it’s commonly known to us Westerners, for the past three months, I’ve had a chance to get much more intimate with the Irish language and those who speak and study it.

History of the Irish Language

Irish (or Irish Gaelic, Gaelic or Gaeilge) is the classical language spoken throughout history by the Irish people. Irish is a Celtic language which has been traced back as far as 1200 BC. The language is an official language of the Republic of Ireland and in certain counties, is still used for official day-to-day use.

The language has seen a tumultuous history, which accounts for the limited use today. During the end of British rule of most of the Emerald Isle, Irish was banned and most native Irish speakers were pushed to the western half of the island. As a result, most of the prominent Irish speaking regions, or the Gaeltacht (Gahl-TACHT) areas, lie along the West Coast.

After what we now know as the Republic of Ireland established independence in 1922, speaking Irish was encouraged (and sometimes required as in the case of certain civil positions and public offices). Though this requirement is no longer in existence, most school children are required to take Irish language courses and speak Gaeilge at least a bit.

Where to hear spoken Irish

You can hear Irish spoken in most of Ireland (including Northern Ireland, despite popular belief) but some places are better than others. As mentioned above, Gaeltecht areas are regions in Ireland where Irish is still the predominately spoken language. In these regions, you are likely to see many signs in Irish (and sometimes exclusively in Irish) and find many restaurants, pubs and coffee shops where Irish is the main spoken language.

Specifically, some towns on the West Coast where you are likely to run into someone speaking Irish include Galway, the Aran Islands (Árann, pronounced AH-ren) and Spiddal (An Spidéal, pronounced Ahn Sp-IH-duhll) which are all in County Galway and Gweedore (Gaoth Dobhair) in County Donnegal (Dhún na nGall, pronounced Dawn-nee-GAHL). If you head into any of these towns you are guaranteed to find street signs in Irish and several restaurants and pubs whose names may look difficult to pronounce. If you ask around, the locals can usually point you in the best direction to hear native speakers.

People of all ages and backgrounds speak Irish. Most children grow up learning Irish in school and therefore often times know the language better than their parents (who may be out of practice unless they speak the language commonly with friends or family). Most places where Irish is spoken regularly, you will find it is intermixed with English and people will often go in and out of using Irish depending on who is around and what the conversation is about.

If you find a group of old Irish men at a pub speaking Irish, this will usually be the best way to experience the language as you can listen in without acting too creepy. Often times, you will find friends walking (for example, along the Salthill Promenade near Galway) and talking and though I don’t suggest following behind to listen in, it is an option. If you’re not in the stalking business, good ways to hear Irish in the western half of the country are to tune into the radio or news.

Raidió Teilifís Éireann (or RTÉ – the National Television and Radio broadcaster) has both a television and radio station broadcasting exclusively in Irish. The radio station, RTÉ Raidió na Gaeltachta, is available on 92-94 FM and has a variety of talking programs throughout the day. TG4, the all-Irish television station, is another place to turn if you’re desperate for some Gaeilge.

If you find access to the television or radio hard to come by, there are still two more viable options for you. The first is to head to mass at one of the local cathedrals. Some masses (again, you’ll have to ask around on this, depending on where you are) will say all, or part, of mass in Irish and most churches will say at least the “Our Father” in Irish.

Going to mass as a non-Catholic is absolutely fine, just follow those around you (sit, stand, sit, stand) or if you’re uncomfortable, stand in the back and watch from a distance. Do not, however, take communion if you’re not Catholic.

If you’re not comfortable in a church (I understand) my last suggestion is to head to a traditional Irish music session. Though hearing Irish is not usually commonplace at a trad session, you will hear great traditional music, and likely will drink enough Guinness to forget you were looking for Irish speakers to begin with.

Finding a trad session is like finding a pub in most cities in the west and most pubs will have a blackboard or a poster on their window saying when they are playing traditional music.

Common phrases in Irish

If you really want to impress your new Irish friends, there are a couple of Irish phrases and words that would be good to learn. The first (and arguably most important) is craic (pronounced crack) which basically means “fun.” You can use it to describe how good a place was (“How was Tig Cóilí?” – “Oh the craic is great tonight”) or also what’s going on (“What’s the craic?”). Once you’ve established where the craic is, and buy your Guinness, you’ll need to cheers your new friends.

The most common way to say cheers in Irish is to say Sláinte (pronounced SLAYNT-chee) which actually means “good health” (similar to the Spanish “salud”). It’s also good to check out how to say the name of the city you’re in before you get there, but tackling pronunciation can be difficult so be careful. Finally, at the end of the night, you wouldn’t want to leave without saying goodbye which is Slán (pronounced SLAHN).

Irish people are proud of their heritage. As a region that has a recent history of cultural oppression, they are eager to share their background and language with anyone willing to listen. Most Irish natives speak at least some of the language, as it’s often a required class in school. Like any language, the best way to get a feel for Irish is to listen to people speaking it and ask questions. Don’t ask them if it’s a “real” language and don’t doubt yourself when you can’t understand a couple of Irish locals bantering away.

Sláinte!

Source: bootsnall.com

The markets in Luxor are like any Middle Eastern market – mayhem. Of course it depends on the hour and the size of the town, but in the local markets (or Souks), you find an energy that exists in no other place. They are the heartbeat of the city and are lively little cosmoses where everything in life is played out to extremes, in very small spaces.

Often you will find separate markets.One for locals – vibrant, hyperactive and teeming with life. The other for tourists – oddly enough teeming with foreigners and tacky souvenir shops, that swarm with relentless tout’s desperate to charm you into parting with your cash.

As Luxor is a small town, without too much trouble I stumble upon where the locals go to shop, infinitely more interesting but hard work. As I hoped it’s pumping. The sites and sounds and smells are overwhelming. The reaction to my presence is peppered with a mixture of curiosity and nonchalance. I am the target of a few comments by younger boys (which I instantly recognise are not complementary in that universal language that says – you’re a Western female and you are trash). It makes me feel uneasy and irritated for a moment, but the excitement of my surroundings quickly dispels these thoughts.

The action is in full swing and I have to dodge cloaked men on horses or hurriedly pushing carts laden with produce down the narrow cobblestone paths. There are sad faced donkeys and mangy haired dogs, women in headscarfs busily stocking up on fresh market vegetables, with squealing children, laughing and running around their feet. Not that I am claustrophobic or timid, but when you are in enveloped in an environment like this, by yourself, in a strange land, it can be ever so slightly daunting. I confess though, I find myself doing it time and time again as the thrill, the education and the fascination is always worth it.

For the umpteenth time I try to squeeze past a horse and carriage forcing its way through the mêlée. A little boy with a cheeky smile beckons to help me. Feet faltering on the unsteady ground, I lurch forward and as I do, have to veer quickly to the right, to escape head-butting the frisky horse who is as keen as I am to get out of this pickle. Doing my best to contort my body, a dark robed lady somehow manages to push past us, holding a live chicken by the feet, that is wildly flapping its big feathery wings uncontrollably (perhaps knowing what fate is shortly in story for it).

Again I have to twist to get out of reach from its scratchy feathers, which are fanning my arm and squawking that is reverberating through my head. Reeling to the right again my head is forced directly into the path of a big table laden with shiny, plump grey intestines and toffee, orange pigs trotters. My face is inches from this buffet of dead, fleshy smelling meat and buzzing flies are landing on me. Aghhhh!!! I feel like a bubble desperately trying to escape to the surface of the water and be free.

Whirling around dazed I finally come up for air. It’s ok. I’m back in the throng and can I see the light at the end of the tunnel, or in this case – the end of the market. Regaining my composure I soak up the last sounds and smells before I hit freedom. An amazing and heady experience. I go back for seconds the next day, but this time protected in a small curtained cabin and by my half sighted caleches (horse and cart) driver. Again it is incredible and gives me a chance to take some photos, but the rush of being amongst the action, head first surrounded by the sights, smells and sounds, although at the time it may not seem that way, is always the best high and the ultimate feeling.

Source: bootsnall.com