Come along for the journey! I’m recapping all that was 2016 for better and worse.

This post was originally published in 2017. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

January – February: Peru

I rang in the new year in my cozy house in the Sacred Valley in Peru; a place that had been my home base for almost two years. I continued to work with my teacher as his assistant with plant medicine ceremonies. I also did a few excursions, notably to The Ruins of Tipon (A Marvel in Irrigation).

To make space for my shamanic pursuits, I was also in the process scaling down my online activities (and thus, income). Interestingly, I didn’t feel the pinch, and it inspired me to reflect on past incomes and lifestyles and write about Lifestyle Inflation (How Earning Money Sucks the Life Outta You).

From January through April, I was also running around like a decapitated chicken collecting and translating, notarizing, etc a dizzying array of documents required to apply for residency in Peru.

March: Canada, Ireland

I won a trip to Ireland! Yessiree, I won a trip, through a random sweepstakes. The trip included flights, accommodation, and rental car for two people, departing from Canada. There was no contest in deciding who to invite; I took my Mum.

So I hopped on a plane from Peru to Canada to pick Mum up and off we flitted through Ireland for a week of incredible scenery, beautiful drives, a few pints, and lots of indulging in the melodic Irish accent – which is probably my favourite accent, and one I can’t help but imitate when I’m in the presence of it.

April-June: Peru

I returned to Peru with a(nother) suitcase of odds and ends to facilitate my “nesting” process there. Unfortunately, a surprising and heartbreaking turn of events awaited my arrival. The day I got back I was informed by my teacher/landlord/boss/friend that our arrangement was over. I had two weeks to move out, I lost all the efforts (and funds) expended to get my residency, and I felt pretty lost and confused.

Thus was triggered a massive process of healing for me, which lasted a few months. (Months that, with a dose of hindsight, flew by, but of course in the throes of it I was a total mess).

But I had people and angels alike looking out for me. I was offered places to stay, warm company, and lots of support. Knowing that I would soon be hitting the road again in a proverbially homeless way, I also needed to kick up my income again, and as if by magic, I was offered a new monthly column at Ingle International, in addition to my longstanding “Dear Nora” column on CreditWalk.

June-August: USA (Florida)

By mid-June, my Peruvian visa was running out, and I knew I had to cut myself loose from Peru in order to continue healing. So I left Peru, as well as my ideas of working with plant medicine, knowing that I would be led back to one or the other (or both) if it were meant to be.

I capped off my 2+ years in Peru with a hike to Mount Pitusiray with the first two friends I made with in Peru. It was a trip full of poetry, and a few tears shed amongst the three of us.

From Peru, I chose to “land” at the house of a friend I’ve known for over 20 years, who always keeps me laughing and with whom I can share anything. That friend lives in south Florida (Hollywood, to be exact), and two months with her were paramount to getting back on my feet again. I’m ever grateful to her for everything she did for me in that time, and for helping me see the levity in it all.

And as anticipated, my time in Florida was fraught with lessons and emotions – old and new. I was curiously amused at myself when I experienced many of the same core fears and challenges that plagued me (and most travelers) when I started traveling so many years ago now. Here’s a post about these challenges, as well as my quirky life in Florida: Hobo Update: Relearning Travel’s Inherent Lessons.

August: Canada

Before I left Florida I just had to stop in to meet the Anatomie crew (designers of my favourite travel clothing) and stock up on a few new pieces. Then, I returned to Canada to visit family and friends for a few weeks, and to celebrate my 40^th birthday, along with my two oldest friends who were turning 40 at the same time. We did the spa, partied it up in Niagara Falls, and topped it off with some winery tours. We even got matching tattoos!

September: Ecuador

I arrived in Ecuador (a new country for me) in early September for a house-sitting gig, and I loved it. I was in Cuenca, which is similar to Cusco in Peru (but better).

When I wasn’t taking in the sites, foods, and pace of life, I was taking a hard look at my business in search some new inspiration. I participated in a daily challenge to get me thinking about these things, and out of it popped the idea to start a new video podcast (or vlog – a term I’m reluctantly acclimatizing to). You can learn more about what led me to this in my first episode, here: Stairway to Freedom.

October: Ecuador

My house-sitting gig ended mid-October, at which point I headed to a plant medicine retreat centre about an hour outside of Cuenca in the mountains. My introduction to the place was quite serendipitous, and it was a way for me to say “hello” to plant medicine again.

I participated in two consecutive retreats there over the next month or so, and was given countless signs that I was in the right place, and I was encouraged to pursue my shamanic endeavours there.

I also filmed and published my second popular vlog: Fun Facts You Didn’t Know About The Professional Hobo.

November: Ecuador

As November drew to a close, so too did my Ecuadorian visa. After almost three months in Ecuador, I gained a unique sense of the place. Overall I loved every part of it. But there were a few things that confused me about the place, which I wrote in a post called Cuenca Ecuador: A City of Confusing Contrast.

Before I left, I was invited to return to Gaia Sagrada in the new year to volunteer and help run the place. The shamans all expressed their desire for me to return and continue to work with them, which was heartwarming.

So after packing my stuff (See Vlog Episode 3: Travel Packing – How to Pack For Full-Time Travel), I said “see ya later” (instead of “goodbye”) to Ecuador and my new friends there, with intentions of returning in January on an extended visa.

December: USA (San Diego, LA, Florida)

Where to go for the 2016 holiday season? After the amazing time I had in Florida with my friend earlier in the year, the choice seemed easy. Back to Florida!

But I wasn’t just staying local this time; shortly after releasing my annual Giant Travel Gear Roundup of travel clothes/gear/services/books/etc I’ve tested throughout the year, I hopped on a plane to visit a friend in San Diego for a week, and another friend in LA for a few days.

The rest of the month was spent in Florida, visiting with a variety of friends from other lands who also thought that spending the holiday season in Florida was a pretty fine idea.

What’s Next?

That’s a good question. At the moment, I’m still in Florida, but in a few weeks I’ll be returning to Ecuador to spend a few months (up to six) at Gaia Sagrada. I don’t know where all this plant medicine work will lead, but I also don’t need to know. I’ll stay there as long as it feels good, and I’ll move on when it’s time. I’m pretty zen about it at the moment!

Previous Annual Summaries

My First Four Years of Full-Time Travel (2007-2010, including Canada, Hawaii, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Australia, USA, Mexico, New Zealand, Spain, Germany, France, England, Scotland, Ireland, Nepal)

What I did in 2011 (13 countries, 73,000 kms, including New Zealand, Canada, USA, Sweden, Portugal, Spain, Switzerland, Czech Republic, Ukraine, Russia, China, Vietnam, Grenada)

What I did in 2012 (8 countries and 20,000 miles, including Grenada, St. Martin, BVIs, USA, Switzerland, France, England, Canada)

What I did in 2013 (12 countries and 29,000 miles, including Grenada, USA, Canada, England, Scotland, Holland, Norway, Denmark, Germany, Ukraine, France, Panama)

What I did in 2014 (7 countries and 34,000 miles, including Panama, USA, Canada, Peru, Spain, Gibraltar, Italy)

What I did in 2015 (6 countries and 35,000 miles, including Peru, Colombia, USA, Costa Rica, Canada, Bolivia)

This post 5 Countries and 30,000 Miles: This Was 2016! appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

And this year, some 27 years later, I won a trip to Ireland. Again, I was pretty happy about this.

This post was originally published in 2016. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

I Won a Trip to Ireland

No really – I won a trip to Ireland! Last year, I entered a random online giveaway and promptly forgot about it. Imagine my surprise when I received an email informing me that I had won the trip!

The trip was for two people and included flights from Canada, accommodation, breakfasts, and rental car. The choice of who to take was obvious – who better to hit the road with in style than mee moom (which is “my mum”, slaughtered in the best Irish twang that phonetics can manage).

So earlier this month, I flew up to Canada, picked up mum, and off we went. Here are some of the highlights of our week-long trip of touring Ireland, with photos, curious bits of information, and recommendations if you’re headed to Ireland yourself:

Touring Ireland: Starting in Dublin

I’d been to Dublin before, but this being Mum’s first time touring Ireland, we spent two nights there. She loved taking the hop-on hop-off bus, which is a great way to get a quick overview of any city.

Dublin has many worthy sights, including colleges, cathedrals, jails, parks, cool neighbourhoods, and of course, the Guinness storehouse. But because we were both jet-lagged from a sleepless overnight flight and short on time, we didn’t cover much territory. So instead let me entertain you with these random photos and facts:

This is Ha’penny bridge, which is the most photographed bridge in Dublin, and was named after the half penny toll that was once charged to walk across it. Now, it is considered the place to declare your undying love to somebody and/or to propose marriage. The city recently had to remove all the “love locks” that had been placed on the bridge because there was fear that the bridge would collapse under the weight. Ironically, Ha’penny bridge is located on Batchelor’s Walk.

This is Dublin’s Temple Bar district, known for its pubs and bars, shops, and happening nightlife. (Funnily enough, I inadvertently took almost the exact same quirky-street-corner-pub photos as the last time I visited Temple Bar, in 2010).

Lining the lampposts of Dublin were banners honouring the 100 years since the 1916 Rising, also known as the Easter Rising; an uprising organized by seven individuals that ended tragically, but that also was a major historical moment that marked the beginning of the journey to Ireland becoming a Republic.

The banners all said “Dublin remembers” – as does much of Ireland.

The Ring of Kerry

To experience the Ring of Kerry (or at least part of it), we stayed near Killarney, in the southwest quadrant of Ireland. The Ring of Kerry is a 179-kilometre circular scenic route that covers a variety of terrain including rural seaside villages, mountains, and more. There are plenty of nifty little detours from the route as well, such as the following:

The Gap of Dunloe

This mountain pass that basically cuts through the middle of the Ring of Kerry was recommended to us by the owner of our B&B, and ended up being one of the highlights of our entire trip, partly because it was so unexpected – and unexpectedly beautiful. After all of Ireland’s green hilly landscapes, imagine my surprise when we stumbled into this dark rugged mountainous land that sparks the imagination towards any number of fantasy shows and movies like Vikings, Game of Thrones, Harry Potter, and even Lord of the Rings – some of which are actually filmed in this area. Driving along the winding 2-way road barely big enough for one car was also a trip, and if there had been more time, I’d surely have done some hiking in the area.

Valencia Island

You can drive to and around Valencia Island, which is just off the Ring of Kerry and one of Ireland’s most westerly points. It also proved to be another worthy recommendation of our B&B owner, with lots of lovely scenery and iconic coastal vistas.

The Cliffs of Moher

On the west coast of Ireland in County Clare, the Cliffs of Moher are the country’s most visited natural attraction. And they didn’t disappoint either; they stretch for 8 kilometres, are over 200 metres (700 feet) high at the highest point, and the next land mass (3,000 kilometres away) is Newfoundland.

Budget travel tip: Show up after 6pm and you’ll save the 6 Euro admission charge and the crowds, and catch the sunset in this gorgeous spot.

Later that evening while enjoying dinner and music at a nearby pub (see below), I got into conversation with some Irish fellows about the Cliffs of Moher. It went something like this:

Irishman #1: “Did you know that the winds are so strong at the Cliffs of Moher that they say you can throw a bottle up in the air and it will actually stay there?”

Irishman #2: “Really?! I never tried it.”

Irishman #1: “Yep. The record I think is an hour and a half.”

Irishman #3: “No way! You mean the bottle stayed in the air for an hour and a half?”

Irishman #1: “No – I just threw bottles in the air for an hour and a half.”

Doolin

County Clare is known as the hotspot in Ireland for traditional Irish music, and Doolin is an example of a charming seaside town (very close to the Cliffs of Moher) where you can experience live music in one pub or another pretty much any night of the week.

An Irish friend of mine also recommended taking the ferry from Doolin to the Aran islands and to spend the night there, but we didn’t have enough time.

Castles

Oh yeah. We stayed in a castle one night as one of the perks of this free trip to Ireland. This is castle Dromoland, which is pretty darn swanky, and one of a few castles in Ireland that have been turned into hotels. Good thing we saved it for the end of our trip, because it really spoiled us. I awoke from the best night of sleep I’d had in months to proclaim that “I want to move into this bed”. Strangely, the hotel staff weren’t so keen on this idea.

Brigid’s Well

Brigid’s Well (also spelled Brigit’s Well), located just outside of Kildare near Dublin, is well off of the beaten tourist path of Ireland, but was a worthy experience for me, as I have long been interested in the history and folklore behind the Irish deity Brigid (Brigit). She was revered and worshipped in ancient Ireland, and is associated in Irish folklore with the gifts of poetry, healing, nurturing, and fire. (She is also considered to be the female counterpart to Archangel Michael). February 1^st is her day of celebration; it’s called Imbolc, and marks the beginning of springtime.

I knew that Brigid’s temple was in Kildare, but researching the right site (as in physical site, not website) to visit was a bit confusing since there are a variety of tributes to Brigid; this is partly because when Christianity came to Ireland, it assimilated features of older beliefs and practices and turned some of the deities into Saints – which is why she is also referred to as Saint Brigid. So she is represented in some cathedrals and in other spots, but for me Brigid’s Well was a dedication to the ancient Brigid, since the sacred use of wells long predates Christianity in Ireland.

Have a Pint…or Three

I spent almost a month in Ireland in 2010, discovering the complex culture around booze and politics, as well as some natural wonders of the north such as the Giant’s Causeway. During that trip I searched for the best pint of Guinness – a brew I only enjoy drinking in Ireland.

So I was quite excited to return and be touring Ireland with Mum to get my Guinness on one more time….or rather a few more times…..and to compare pubs and locations in search of the perfect pour. I’m not sure we found the perfect pint of Guinness, but then again, any pint of Guinness…in Ireland…at a local pub…after a day of driving and sightseeing…with your Mum…is by its very nature – a perfect pint.

This post Touring Ireland in Photos appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

This post was originally published in 2010. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

“Wow – you weren’t kidding about the hill,” I said as I surmised the road leading persistently up and over the saddle of two heather-covered mountains.

But my friend didn’t slow the pace of the car as we struggled up the road. Sensing my mounting frustration at trying to snap pictures while we drove, he said with a bemused smile “Don’t worry, love. I think there’s a few spots to take pictures on the other side.”

Although I actively try not to set expectations of a destination I visit, I inevitably have some sort of image in my mind for how a place will look. Although the image is often realistic (as it’s likely based on photographs and documentaries), sometimes it’s not accurate to the area I’m visiting.

But when we drove over the saddleback at Mamore Gap, I saw just about everything I expected of Ireland: vast ocean, steep cliffs, heather-filled moors, rolling hills, country homes, grazing sheep, rustic agricultural scenery, and just about every shade of green to fill in the spaces.

No picture truly did the views justice, but you get the idea.

Here’s some more info about Mamore Gap, as part of the Wild Atlantic Way.

Giant’s Causeway

“Who built this thing?” is apparently a common awe-inspired (yet stupid) tourist response to the Giant’s Causeway, located in Northern Ireland. But who was I to surmise the true stupidity of these people? Maybe this ancient geographical wonder does look man-made.

Upon arriving at the coastal wonder that is Giant’s Causeway, even I had to pause to consider how the miles upon miles of hexagonal rocks could have formed as they did (hint: lava is an amazing thing).

But surely, this project was simply too much work; even for the likes of the Egyptians, Aztecs, and other ancient races with a knack for achieving the physically impossible with less tools than we could imagine cooking breakfast with.

No, this world heritage site is most certainly naturally made.

But there’s some cool folklore to go along with the Giant’s Causeway to perpetuate the mythical human creation element. It’s a story with many versions but an underlying theme that the Causeway once was a bridge (for giants) between Scotland and Ireland. The Irish giant named Finn McCool scared off his Scottish rival with his enormous size (or rather, the opponent’s imagined vision of McCool’s size), and sent the other giant running back to Scotland, ripping up the Causeway as he returned to ensure that no Irish giants could make the trip across and destroy Scotland.

I am regularly asked what my favourite place in the world is. I can never answer the question properly though, because amazing travel experiences for me have so much more to do with the context of the visit than the destination itself. Because I met so many Irish people filled with warmth, friendliness, and overflowing hospitality, Ireland spoke well to me as a place to visit. I couchsurfed with a few people I met while volunteering in Spain, visited a few city centres and many of the attractions, and most importantly I kindled a desire to return one day and set up shop for a few months to experience a slice of Irish life.

I just hope the weather holds!

This post Ireland: The Causeway, and Mamore Gap appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

This article was originally published in 2010, and has since been updated for accuracy of links and formatting.

Ireland: The Booze

Ireland seems to be a nation of drinkers. Similar to England, pub culture is prevalent…and in fact even more pronounced in Ireland. So my first task on arriving in Ireland was to find the perfect pint of Guinness.

I’m a dubious beer-drinker at best, and back in Canada the few times I tried Guinness, I thought it was a vile brew. But on the prompting of absolutely everybody I knew, I had to try this world-famous concoction – in Ireland, from the source.

My first pint was like drinking sweet liquid gold. Maybe it was the pub ambience, the company, or just the psychosomatic need to preach Guinness in Ireland as being “different”. Either way, I loved it.

Thereafter, I tried Guinness in various establishments all over Ireland. But strangely, nothing quite measured up to those pints I had at the first pub. Either the head wasn’t frothy enough, the consistency not thick enough, or the taste not sweet enough. Even my bemused local friends understood – they all have favourite places to enjoy their national brew, and few can be convinced that it’s the same stuff everywhere you go.

But be it Guinness, Jameson Irish Whisky, or any other drink for that matter – the culture around drinking in Ireland is ever-present. Check out the steady stream of crowds visiting the Guinness brewery in Dublin (drinking their pints as early as 10am in the storehouse which is – incidentally – in the shape of a giant seven-floor beer glass) if you need proof. It’s the subsequent tour of the Jameson Distillery at 11am that seals the deal…not that I’d know….no siree, not me.

Drinking with Friends

I had the good fortune to visit my friend David for his birthday (which was incidentally, two days before mine). Plans were made to meet a group of close friends near his home town.

“So, who’s going to be at the dinner?” I asked David, in reference to our pre-pub dinner plans, which I assumed would include most of the gang.

“Oh, nobody. It’s just you and me.” When I shot him a funny look, he continued: “In Ireland, birthday dinners aren’t important. It’s all about the drinking afterwards”!

I see.

And so, it was.

Ireland: The Politics

My time in Ireland was spent between Northern Ireland (which includes Belfast, and is considered to be a part of the UK – with British Pounds as the prevailing currency), and the Republic of Ireland (which includes Dublin, and adheres to Euros).

However as a visitor I was hard-pressed to see the differences between the two “nations” on first glance. There were no barriers, borders, or even road signs indicating the cross-over point. (More than once I got confused when the speed limits and mileage markers jumped dramatically – before realizing that it was not a jump in number, but instead a jump between miles and kilometers or vice versa).

It was only on receiving a few pointers including the history of Ireland that I became aware of the differences between Northern Ireland and the Republic thereof.

First off, I was quite impressed with the degree of openness I encountered towards discussing “The Troubles” (as Ireland’s violent history is officially referred to). Everybody – even people who were affected profoundly by the violence – was very candid with me about what happened; no holds barred.

I am not going to delve into Ireland’s history here, because as I learned, every time you think you’ve got the scoop, a deeper dive back in their history reveals even more clarity and perspective. Giving even a brief overview would be beyond the scope of this post.

What it took for me was a few weeks of talking to people from all kinds of Irish backgrounds, as well as an informative visit to Belfast’s (free) museum to paint my own picture of the place.

I also asked my Irish friends lots of stupid questions (like “are there Catholic churches in Belfast?”), and received honest answers (after they stopped laughing).

The best summation I received about current life in Ireland was a cautious one: “So…we have peace, but it’s still very new.” The last treaty was signed in the 1990’s, so I understand their cautious optimism. Small splinter groups still occasionally try to cause trouble, which keeps people looking over their shoulder – an instinctual way of life for many who grew up during The Troubles.

But most people truly seem to want peace; and anybody who grew up with the violence simply wants an end to it all. Londonderry (a city right on the border that saw some of the worst violence) is receiving a European tourism title next year, so lots of money will be poured into infrastructure. And because this is a cause almost everybody can get behind, everyone is holding their breath that peace in Ireland holds, and is in fact strengthened.

Northern Ireland still plays host to many Protestant-heavy neighbourhoods, evidenced by the British flags strung from every lamp post, and the red, blue, and white-striped curbs lining the main streets. And although many Irish say they can tell the difference between Catholics and Protestants on sight alone, these days most Catholics can stroll down one of these Protestant streets without being killed. (I just wouldn’t suggest they do anything really….Catholic – whatever that means…during their amble).

By contrast, in the Republic of Ireland there isn’t nearly as much fanfare around flags; just a general pride in and love for the homeland. A sure sign of being in the Republic is the evidence of Gaelic language; in fact on most street signs, Gaelic is listed first – English second. Lots of Gaelic has remained in daily vocabulary as well, which adds a certain charm to the conversation.

Although most of the Irish people I spoke to were curious about my full-time travel lifestyle, many of them couldn’t imagine not having a home base (in Ireland) to return to.

And who can blame them? Ireland has stunning countryside, and a warm, fun-loving, family-oriented population. Stay tuned for lots of pictures of my Irish countryside adventures – coming soon!

This post Ireland: The Booze, and The Politics appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

See also: Hidden Costs of Traveling, and How to Avoid Them

With some trepidation, I asked a staff member at the ferry station if it was reasonable to walk to the city centre.

“Ha! No, love,” was the response that elicited a cringe from me.

“How much is the bus?”

“Not sure, but you’d better hurry – it’s over there, and about to leave,” he said with an encouraging smile.

I raced to the bus depot to find three buses. I approached the first one. “Do you go to the city centre?”

“Yes love, but do you have a pre-paid ticket?” This was a question with what I thought would be an obvious answer, given my initial query.

“Um, no.”

“Well, you can pay on board here. It’s ₤3.”

Strike one. I didn’t know exactly how much I had in my wallet, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t ₤3.

“You can try the public bus over there,” he said in response to my crestfallen expression. “It’s ₤1.70, and takes you to the same place.” I immediately wondered why anybody would pay ₤3 for the bus in front of me. Then again, had I more thoroughly researched my destination instead of planning to arrive on a wish and a prayer and playful desire to “see what happened”, I too might have discovered this bus service online, and thinking it was my only option, pre-paid for my own ticket.

I raced over to the public bus and confirmed the destination and price with the friendly driver.

“You don’t by any chance take credit cards, do you?” I said with a hopeful smile. I still wanted to hang on to my change, just in case I needed it for something trivial like food.

“Where are you from, love?” he asked.

“Canada.”

“And in Canada, do they accept plastic on the bus?”

“Um, no. Touche!” I said. We were both smiling. I counted out my coins (thankfully discovering that I actually had enough), took my ticket, and was wished well by my humourous chariot driver.

From the moment the first person called me “love”, to the sarcastic-yet-playful sense of humour I experienced in no less than five minutes, to the friendly smiles, regular eye contact and passing conversation with strangers, I knew I’d love Ireland.

Having come off a tiring week of hiking and driving and attending Fringe shows in Scotland, I was exhausted. My primary motivation for my first night was to sleep, as I knew my approaching birthday weekend and ensuing week in Ireland would be a full one.

I’m pleased to report that upon leaving Northern Ireland I had managed to find accommodation that accepted credit cards, scrounged up enough food between my personal stash and the free coffers at the hostel for dinner and breakfast, and even had enough coins left over to buy a yoghurt for the bus ride to Derry, arriving with exactly ₤0.10 remaining.

Stay tuned for my adventures in Ireland in the coming weeks!

This post was originally published in 2010. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

This post Arriving in Ireland (With No Money) appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

This post was originally published in 2010, and has since been updated for accuracy of links and content.

I’ve started reading The Old Patagonian Express: By Train Through the Americas by Paul Theroux, which I fear will make me even more evangelistic about international train travel than I already am. In it, the author (a venerable travel writer to say the least) hops on a train in Boston and rides it (or at least, a series of trains) all the way to Patagonia.

He had me as a little pile of dedicated putty in his hands from page 11 when he discusses the pitfalls of travel writing:

…the convention is to telescope travel writing, to start – as so many novels do – in the middle of things, to beach the reader in a bizarre place without having first guided him there. ‘The white ants had made a meal of my hammock,’ the book might begin…

…my usual question, unanswered by these – by most – travel books, is: How did you get there?…we have become used to life being a series of arrivals or departures, triumphs and failures, with nothing noteworthy in between. Summits matter, but what of the lower slopes of Parnassus?

As a mountain-lover myself, the reference to summits is particularly interesting. I generally find that pictures from the summits of any of the mountains I’ve scaled pale in comparison to pictures taken along the way. These pictures tell a story of drama, excitement, fatigue, elation, and fear. Isn’t that way more interesting than a victorious pose atop a mountain? (Not to mention the fact that reaching the summit is only half the journey, but that’s another story).

But back to the travel theme, as Theroux is passionately eloquent about it (and how it relates to train travel):

…Travel, truly, is otherwise. From the second you wake up you are headed for the foreign place, and each step…brings you closer.

…The literature of travel has become measly, the standard opening that farcical nose-against-the-porthole view from the plane’s tilted fuselage… ‘we circled the airport and, as we came in low for the landing, I saw the stately palms, the harvest, the rooftops of the shabby houses’…I have never found this sort of guesswork very convincing. When I am landing in a place my heart is in my mouth; I wonder – doesn’t everyone? – if we are going to crash. My life flashes before me, a brief selection of sordid and pathetic trivialities. Then a voice tells me to stay in my seat until the plane comes to a complete stop; and when we land the loud-speakers break into an orchestral version of Moon River. I suppose if I had the nerve to look around I might see a travel writer scribbling, ‘Below us lay the tropical green –’

And then, of air travel in general:

(Bear with me. These eloquent quotes have a purpose).

…the aeroplane passenger is a time-traveller. He crawls into a carpeted tube that is reeking of disinfectant; he is strapped in to go home, or away. Time is truncated, or in any case warped: he leaves in one time-zone and emerges in another…

I could go on (boy could I ever!), but I won’t. I think you get the idea.

Having set the scene and pleaded the case for train travel (or at least against air travel), Theroux goes on to describe his train journey from Boston to Patagonia in great detail. The passing conversations he has on the train, the delays, the characters he meets, the curious thoughts that pass through his mind, and the fascinating change of seasons that takes place hour-by-hour as he travels from a particularly cruel Bostonian winter into the summer climes of the south.

I must admit, I’m only 100 pages in at the writing of this article, but it’s enough to have me sold on not only Theroux as an author, but on train travel in general. Having grown up taking long distance train trips to the United States to visit my grandparents each summer, I always loved the long journey and the passing scenery. And when my full-time travels began, the first thing I did was to buy a train pass and travel from Toronto west – by train.

I’ve now racked up a laundry list of countries that I’ve traveled to and through by train: Canada, United States, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Australia, Spain, France, Germany, England, Scotland, and Ireland.

And I hope this is only the beginning.

UPDATE: It sure was! I later did some epic train adventures that ended up in a book: Tales of Trains – Where the Journey is the Destination.

In Europe (and many places for that matter), a common objection to train travel is cost. With so many budget airlines, you can hop on a plane for an incredibly (almost unbelievably) low fee and arrive a mere hour or two later to your destination, swollen and dizzied by the surrealistic pace of it all.

But what of the journey? What does the countryside between destination A and B look like? What kinds of houses do people live in? How populated are the areas between big cities? How far does urban sprawl go? And what kinds of people travel on the train?

I must admit, I’ve succumbed to lure of the cheap-and-dirty airline a few times during my European travels this summer. So I’m no angel on this front. But curiously, I’ve also felt guilty for doing so. My aim with travel is not to conquer each country I visit; racing from one attraction-packed destination to another and ticking cathedrals and museums off my pre-determined list. Not that there’s anything wrong with that…I could probably stand to make a few lists myself.

But physically, emotionally, environmentally, even spiritually, train travel is so much more satisfying for me. And cost doesn’t have to be an issue if you do your research. For a mere ₤25, I took two trains and a ferry from Edinburgh, Scotland to Belfast, Ireland. And for little more, you could take a series of trains and ferries from Dublin to just about anywhere in the UK.

Train travel in Asia is even more reasonable, especially if you choose an overnight sleeper, saving you the cost of accommodation as well as getting you to your destination.

The cost-conscious might sing the praises of bus travel in lieu of trains. Yes, buses are often cheaper and they give you a better sense of the journey, but really. You can’t get up and walk around. They’re incredibly cramped. They’re stuffy. And you never see anything other than the motorway. Having said that, I’ll admit to having taken some fascinating bus journeys (including a recent trip from York to Whitby over the heather-filled moors), but if there had been a train traveling the same route, I’d surely have chosen it instead.

Like I warned from the first paragraph, I’m feeling a touch evangelistic about train travel these days. If you have done some long-distance travel by train, I’ll bet you agree with my observations. And if you don’t agree, that’s okay too. Travel is subjective (that’s why I started my week-in-the-life series); to celebrate the different methodologies and ideologies of travelers.

So what’s your take? What is your favourite method of travel?

Interested in international train travel? Here’s an armchair-traveler’s delight about my own adventures through 11 countries in 44 days, all by train: 
Tales of Trains: Where the Journey is the Destination

This post International Train Travel: An Evangelist’s Rant appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!