“My task which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word to make you hear, to make you feel—it is, before all, to make you see. That—and no more, and it is everything.” Joseph Conrad, Preface to The Nigger of The Narcissus
The life and work of Joseph Conrad, it seems, was a huge influence on Gavin Young.
If the quote above inspired Gavin Young’s journalism and writing, the following quote from Conrad’s short story, Youth inspired Young’s desire to live, travel and to see the world:
I remember my youth and the feeling that will never come back any more – the feeling that I could last for ever, outlast the sea, the earth and all men; the deceitful feeling that lures us on to joys, to perils, to love, to vain effort – to death; the triumphant conviction of strength, the heat of life in the handful of dust, the glow in the heart that with every year grows dim, grows cold, grows small, and expires, too soon, too soon – before life itself.
At the outset of In Search of Conrad, Young recalls that passage being read aloud to him during his school days and being intoxicated by this stirring summons “to wake up and start living”. Gavin Young did just that.
After a period of national service following the Second World War, Young started working for a firm of ship brokers in Iraq. It was while he was there that he met explorer Wilfred Thesiger, with whose encouragement he visited Iraq’s Marsh Arabs and subsequently spent two years living with them. In a letter to his mother Thesiger commented:
Gavin Young who works with a firm in Basra and is keen to see something of Arab tribal life has been with me for a week … He is a nice lad and I am always glad to help anyone who is keen on this sort of life.
An encounter with Wilfred Thesiger was not the only thing Young had in common with Eric Newby, another famous post-war travel writer.
Young was steered towards journalism by Ian Fleming when they met in a bar in Tangiers in the 1950s. Turning down an offer from Fleming to join The Sunday Times, Young joined the Observer at the end of the 1950s, as had Newby and spent the next 30 years covering wars and revolutions in Angola, Nagaland, Cambodia, Iran and Yemen as well as enjoying spells as the newspaper’s correspondent in New York and Paris.
His subsequent travel books, Slow Boats to China (a journey by 23 vessels from Greece to China) and Slow Boats Home (his return to England by boat via the South Seas, Cape Horn and West Africa) were better received but is was with In Search of Conrad that Young was, in 1991, awarded the Thomas Cook Travel Book Award (later becoming the Dolman Best Travel Book Award and then the Stanford Dolman Travel Book of the Year).
As its title suggests, In Search of Conrad is a literary pilgrimage. In this engrossing book, Young talks of his lifelong obsession with Conrad’s books and his literary quest to seek out the world and characters which inhabit Conrad’s novels Almayer’s Folly and Lord Jim; the men who:
have tinged with romance the region of shallow waters and forest-clad islands that life far east and still mysterious between the deep waters of two oceans.
Young explains how Conrad was a reader first (“I don’t know what would have become of me if I had not been [a reading boy]”), before he became a traveller and seaman and then settled in England after 20 years at sea to pour his experiences into his writing.
Now when I was a little chap I had a passion for maps. I would look for hours at South America, or Africa, or Australia, and lose myself in all the glories of exploration. At that time there were many blank spaces on the earth, and when I saw one that looked particularly inviting on a map (but they all look that) I would put my finger on it and say, ‘When I grow up I will go there. Marlow in The Heart of Darkness
He follows Conrad’s journeys to the East in search of the places he visited and looking for clues about the stories and adventurers who inspired both characters and plots in his novels.
Young’s quest takes him on journeys across the Java Sea, through the Gulf of Siam, and to the Makassar Straits visiting Bangka, Kalimantan (Indonesian Borneo), Celebes (now Sulawesi), Singapore, Malaysia and Thailand. It is a fascinating journey not only for its literary investigation but for the places Young visits including some still remote places which only now, through the advent of budget airlines in Southeast Asia, are becoming more accessible to travellers.
Young’s own enthusiasm for Conrad’s books, history and travel is infectious and it was easy to feel drawn into his quest. Relying on Norman Sherry’s (Graham green’s biographer) as well as his own investigations Young brings enigmatic characters from Conrad’s novel into sharper focus with biographical detail and historical description of 19th century life in Southeast Asia.
Young effortlessly blends his own travelogue and descriptions of the East with Conrad’s own, slipping between Conrad’s time and his own. Pre-empting any charge of plagiarism, Young calls it a collaboration. It is effective and lends parts of the book a dreamlike quality.
For readers who have been inspired to visit places to experience what they have read on the page, or for anyone with an interest in less visited places Southeast Asia, this is an excellent read.
Young’s other books include Worlds Apart, a collection of essays and journalism, From Sea to Shining Sea, about America, A Wavering Grace, about Vietnam and Beyond Lion Rock, the story of Cathay Pacific Airways. Gavin Young died in 2001.
I loved that journey. I loved it, I think, because I had never before in my life been totally without sight of another human being for a full day and a night. Few people have.
Roald Dahl is famous as the author of acclaimed children’s books such as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The BFG, George’s Marvellous Medicine, Fantastic Mr Fox, Danny Champion of the World and, of course, Revolting Rhymes all of which were among my favourite books when I was growing up.
Going Solo, however, is non-fiction and is the second of Dahl’s two short autobiographical works. The first, Boy recalls his childhood and school days. Going Solo finds Dahl leaving home and England to find his way in the world as an employee of the Shell oil company in an African outpost of the British Empire. A companion volume to both is Love from Boy, a collection of Dahl’s letters to his mother.
The PSES (now the British Exploring Society and part of the Royal Geographical Society) was founded in 1932 by Surgeon Commander George Murray Levick, who was a member of Captain Scott’s final Antarctic Expedition of 1910-13. The expedition which Dahl joined involved hiking through Newfoundland carrying a 114lb pack and involved experimenting with eating boiled lichen and reindeer most supplement their meagre rations.
Unsure what he wanted to do with his life after leaving school, Dahl told Plomley that he knew at the very least that he wanted to “get a job that will take me to distant lands.”
You must remember that there was virtually no air travel in the early 1930s. Africa was two weeks away from England by boat and it took you about five weeks to get to China. These were distant and magical lands and nobody went to them just for a holiday. You went there to work. Nowadays you can go anywhere in the world in a few hours and nothing is fabulous any more. But it was a very different matter in 1933. (from Boy: Tales of Childhood by Roald Dahl)
Dahl went for an interview with Shell to join its Eastern Staff. One of 5 successful interviewees out of 60 candidates, Dahl believed that Shell’s board of directors had been impressed by his school prize for heavyweight boxing.
Dahl’s Shell Company interview, his trip to Newfoundland and early working days in London as a businessman are covered in Boy:
The life of a writer is absolute hell compared with the life of a businessman. The writer has to force himself to work. He has to make his own hours and if he doesn’t go to his desk at all there is nobody to scold him…A person is a fool to become a writer, His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul, and that, I am sure, is why he does it. (from Boy: Tales of Childhood by Roald Dahl)
Dahl also described in Boy how he had been offered and turned down a position in Egypt:
What I wanted was jungles and lions and elephants and tall coconut palms swaying on silvery beaches, and Egypt had none of that. Egypt was desert country. It was bare and sandy and full of tombs and relics and Egyptians and I didn’t fancy it at all.
Within a week of turning down Egypt, Dahl was offered East Africa and Going Solo picks up his story after the Shell interview and the completion of two years’ training in the UK and joins Dahl on his way to Mombasa in 1938 aboard the SS Mantilla.
Please do not forget that in the 1930s the British Empire was still very much the British Empire, and the men and women who kept it going were a race of people that most of you have never encountered and now you never will. I consider myself very lucky to have caught a glimpse of this rare species while it still roamed the forests and foothills of the earth, for today it is totally extinct. More English than the English, more Scottish than the Scots, they were the craziest bunch of humans I shall ever meet.
Only 22 years old, Dahl was headed for Tanganyika (what is now broadly Tanzania) and Dar es Salaam, where he learned Swahili, shook scorpions from his boots, contracted malaria, visited sisal plantations and diamond mines and “saw that chaps had the right type of lubricating oil for machinery.”
Dahl was in East Africa for only a short time when the Second World War broke out. Dahl saw active service in North Africa, Greece and Palestine before being invalided back to the UK.
From there he was sent to Washington DC and formed part of British intelligence’s efforts to persuade the United States to join the war. It was in Washington and after a meeting with CS Forester that Dahl began to write.
At the end of the war, Dahl resigned from the Shell company and started his writing career. The rest, as they say, is history.
Going Solo focuses on Dahl’s time in East Africa and as a pilot in the Second World War. It contains entertaining descriptions of his journey out to Africa and the colonial/empire types he meets on board as well as his brief period working in Tanganyika where he encountered lions and black mambas. This part of Going Solo is relatively short although, as Dahl frankly acknowledged:
any job, even if it is in Africa, is not continuously enthralling, I have tried to be as selective as possible and have written only about those moments that I consider memorable.
Dahl, however, sells his East African experience short in his foreword to Going Solo. A volume of Dahl’s correspondence, edited by his biographer Donald Sturrock, was published in 2016 under the title Love From Boy.
These letters containfunny and candid glimpses of Dahl’s experiences in Africa, from daily routines, nights getting ‘whistled’ at the Dar es Salaam club, drinking coconut milk and gin, fancy dress parties, living 50 yards from the beach in a villa with staff, snooker, golf, cinema visits, dinners with colonels, breakfasts of tea and an orange and hours spent listening to the wireless or symphonies on his gramophone:
It looks as though [my drinks bill] may be a bit above the average this month – but as I said before – don’t get excited, I’m not becoming a toper [drunkard]
As the Second World War draws closer, both Going Solo and the letters in Love from Boy chart the rising tensions with the East African German community. In one letter, Dahl recounts an evening spent throwing darts at photos of Hitler and Goebbels, reporting:
There’s the hell of a showdown – you see there are so many Germans in this place & everything is rather on the boil – we seemed to have squeezed the bugger…Moral: Don’t throw darts at Hitler’s Balls in public they’re private parts.
After a brief spell in the King’s African Rifles rounding up Germans in East Africa at the outbreak of the war, Dahl drove 600 miles to Nairobi at the end of 1939 where he enlisted as an airman and completed his basic pilot training.
He writes about the “marvellous fun” of flying over Africa and viewing the Rift Valley’s volcanic craters, lakes, villages, flamingos, wildebeest and giraffes and how, in Iraq where he underwent further training, tribesmen took potshots at the planes from the hills.
While in Iraq, Dahl took a photograph of the Arch of Ctesiphon while flying a biplane, for which he was given a bronze medal by the Egyptian Photographic Society in Cairo. His letters also describe sightseeing trips to Cairo, the Pyramids and to Babylon and detail the daily hazards of life in Iraq from scorpions, snakes, the flooding of the Euphrates and the Bedouin.
After Iraq, Dahl was posted to North Africa and then to Greece where he took part in the Battle for Athens, flying a Hawker Hurricane fighter before being evacuated to Egypt. From Suez, he drove alone up to Haifa where he rejoined his squadron and the Syrian Campaign against the Vichy Airforce.
It was a Sunday morning and the Frenchmen were evidently entertaining their girlfriends and showing off their aircraft to them, which was a very French thing to do in the middle of a war at a front-line aerodrome.
Going Solo is primarily a wartime memoir but evokes the places he is posted at that particular time from colonial life in East Africa, drinking retsina and eating olives in Greece and encountering Jewish refugees in (then) Palestine. His letters in Love from Boy give more of a feel for daily life, are amusing and well worth a read.
Dahl’s descriptions of air battles in Going Solo are exhilarating although his enthralment with flying is tempered by sober descriptions of how only 3 of the 16 men he trained with survived the war, comrades who were killed and the long odds of surviving as a wartime pilot.
However, before reading Going Solo, I hadn’t appreciated that Dahl was nearly among those who died following a near fatal crash in North Africa which left him badly burned and temporarily without sight.
This crash has been credited with starting Dahl’s writing career. According to Ronald Dahl’s biographer, Donald Sturrock:
A monumental bash on the head” was how Dahl once described this accident in the Western Desert, claiming that it directly led to his becoming a writer. This was not just because his first published piece of writing was a semi-fictionalised account of the crash, but also because he suspected that the brain injuries which he received there had materially altered his personality and inclined him to creative writing. (from Roald Dahl: the plane crash that gave birth to a writer by Donald Sturrock, published in The Daily Telegraph, 9 August 2010)
Dahl himself once said of the incident:
It’s my cosy little theory, that because i was a fairly square young chap intent on a happy business life with the Shell Company and that I started writing soon after that maybe the head helped. (from Roald Dahl: In His Own Words)
Dahl continued travelling in later life including to Japan as part of his work on the film of Ian Fleming’s James Bond novel You Only Live Twice. Dahl also worked on the screenplay for the film of Fleming’s childrens’ story, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
He went onto to become a highly successful writer of children’s and adult fiction. In relation to his writing, Dahl thought of himself primary as an entertainer but also tried his best to teach children to love reading books:
My crusade is to teach small children to love books so much that it becomes a habit and they realise that books are worth reading.
Books, if you are going to be anything, are vital in life.
For more on Roald Dahl’s life, listen to this edited selection of interviews (or click on embedded player below) covering different episodes from his life and broadcast by BBC Radio 4 as Roald Dahl: In HIs Own Words as part of the BBC’s Roald Dahl at 100 season.
Alternatively, try Donald Sturrock’s biography of Roald Dahl (which was also serialised in The Telegraph, here) or Sturrock’s edited collection of Dahl’s correspondence to his mother which is an excellent and essential companion to Boy and Going Solo and contains letters from his Newfoundland trip, time in East Africa and his war years. There is also Jennet Conant’s history, The Irregulars, which focuses on Roald Dahl’s time in Washington DC.
The Brokpa, who are ethnically distinct from the Bhutanese, are a tribe of semi-nomadic yak herders. Up to now, the remote village of Merak could only be visited by undertaking a multi-day trek which went over a 4,300m pass. AJ Heath reports that that is about to change with the construction of the first road.
The traditional way of life and distinct cultures of rural communities like the Brokpa in Merak are at risk of disappearing. As communications improve, they lead to a desire for more modernised lifestyles. Electricity was introduced in 2012 which was followed by satellite TV and fridges and mobile phones.
In his article for Lightfoot Travel, AJ Heath noted:
As the majority are illiterate, I was fascinated to know how they put people’s names into their phones. One lady showed me that she used the emojis – ‘dog, dog, cat, heart’ was her son who lives in Thimphu and ‘cat cat heart heart’ was for her daughter.
AJ Heath’s project documents the Brokpa and their way of life, and the articles examine the change that completion of the new road will bring.
Their lives have not really changed in centuries, but change is coming and the change will happen very quickly. I wanted to capture this before it is lost.
As Bhutan develops, its people struggle to preserve their traditional way of life and unique identity as they look for diferent and/or easier ways to earn a living.
The road will increase tourism which will increase the incomes of the Brokpa. Paradoxically, tourism provides an incentive to maintain traditions but its increase will, in turn, also put more pressure on their traditional way of life as the Brokpa use that income to modernise and buy consumer goods.
There is an inevitable tension between the Brokpa’s desire to improve their lives and tourists’ yearning for things to remain as they are. In a bid to prevent the loss of culture as a result of modernisation, the Bhutanese government has introduced legislation to protect cultural traditions.
According to the articles, some fear that this could lead to unequal development within the country with some communites being preserved as living museums to satisfy lucrative tourist demand while other parts of the country are permitted to develop.
Travel in Bhutan is only possible as part of an organised tour, which costs around $250 a day, or $290 if travelling solo or in a pair. The rationale for this daily fee is to permit sustainable tourism which protects Bhutan’s land and culture while offering tourists an insight into a unique way of life. A portion of the fee is used by the government to fund roads, infrastructure, health and education programs.
While money from tourism plays a part in improving the country, the challenge for Bhutan will be how it manages not to distort development while maintaining that income; to keep both international visitors and Bhutan’s population satisfied.
While the tourists yearn for Bhutan to remain the same, Heath said that the Brokpa people welcomed the changes: “They all seemed very excited by the prospects of the new road being built. They thought it would improve their lives and that their living conditions would improve. The road would also bring in more tourists which will give them extra income to buys TVs and fridges.
In a country which places much stock in the idea of Gross National Happiness, only time will reveal the effect the road has on communities like Merak and whether the Bhutanese government and people are able to balance the competing demands of development, tourism and tradition.
The wanderlust is perhaps the most precious of all the troublesome appetites of the soul of man.
Ramsay MacDonald was the first Labour Prime Minister of the UK in 1924 and held the office on two further occasions in the period between the First and Second World Wars. He is credited with being one of the three principal architects of the Labour Party in the UK.
He was first elected to Parliament in 1906 but his opposition to the First World War saw him defeated, although he re-entered Parliament in 1922 in the post-war period.
In the years following the First World War, MacDonald travelled around Europe, Russia, the Caucasus and the Middle East. He wrote about his travels for a number of magazines, including the publication, Forward. Some of those pieces (along with a number of essays from other publications) are collected together in a book published by Jonathan Cape in 1925 called Wanderings and Excursions.
The book is split into four sections covering travels in the British Isles, travels abroad, political conferences abroad and portraits of politicians. It is the first half of the book, covering about 200 pages which are most relevant to anyone with an interest in travel writing.
Sometimes one must flee from familiar things and faces and voices, from the daily round and the common task, because one’s mind becomes like a bit of green grass too much trod upon. It has to be protected and nursed, and it has to be let alone.
MacDonald is someone who apparently valued the escape and restorative aspects of travel and walking outdoors. He paints a wonderful image of himself striding out across moor and mountain singing out loud before retiring to a pub with his pipe at the end of a day’s energetic walking reflecting on and comparing his physical efforts with those of his Victorian political heroes.
Travel for MacDonald did not just mean going abroad. Proud of Scotland and its physical landscape, he could help but note that “no people doomed to remain confined within the limits of their own country have a richer storehouse of treasure to explore than have ours.”
For the most part, he omits politics from his writing about places, confining himself to the sights, experience and his reaction to them.
There are places – sometimes great cities like Rome, sometimes only buildings like the Tower of London or the castles of Edinburgh and Stirling – into which time and event have breathed the breath of life and they have become living souls. We think of them as brooding over their past and looking upon the generation around them with the detachment of one who endures in the midst of a world that is fussing, fuming, and passing into a shadow. They are too dignified to speak; they only muse and remember. Such is Constantinople.
He is, however, careful to point out that he is no tourist simply doing the rounds of the sights:
My readers must not assume that, though this journey brings us to new scenes day by day, scenes that revive in us childish delight, we do nothing but go from shrine to shrine. We are also trying to understand what is going on and what general drift there is in the conflicting currents of opinion, passion, and will that reveal themselves whenever we throw out a float to detect them.
When politics does creep in, he tends to be apologetic, although his observations are interesting:
One of the greatest curses of Capitalism is that it robs us of the faculty of enjoying a holiday. Keats, thinking of Burns, reflects how delicacy of feeling has to be deadened ‘in vulgarity and in things attainable,’ because, the more we are capable of knowing true joy, the more are we maddened by the poverty and emptiness of our lives. But I offend, for in worshipping the sun and the open air, one must not preach.
The essays cover travel to Egypt, Palestine and Syria by boat and motor-car, Italy, France, Greece, Turkey and Georgia. He makes astute observations about the post-World War One settlement in the Middle East and there is an interesting chapter about a trip to India in 1913 during which he witnessed the construction of New Delhi. There are also short pieces on Honolulu (“the most absurd place in the world”) from 1906 and South Africa in 1902 at the end of the Boer War.
The book contains further chapters which predominantly describe political conferences in Berne, Berlin, Denmark, Belgium and in Prague, although they also contain some interesting observations about those places (“everyone who loves Edinburgh and regards its stones as precious must love Prague”).
One of the appealing aspects of this collection is that MacDonald’s enthusiasm for travel leaps off the pages.
But the smell of the East is an incense in my nostrils, and its clatter of tongues is music to my ears. I have been wandering in the mud of the city which Alexander the Great founded, which Julius Caesar took by storm, which became the home of philosophy and religion, and which shone over the world as its Pharos shone over the Mediterranean.
For me at least, Ramsay MacDonald’s name conjures an image of an embattled politician with serious socialist views and a political zeal. In these essays, though, another side to the politician is visible, that of a man who revelled in being outdoors and who enjoyed reawakening a child’s enthusiasm through travel and who could give into the romance of starting out on a journey or thrill at the sight of simply seeing the names of places he wanted to visit painted on the side of a train:
When you go to Clapham, there is no romance about Victoria Station. It is sordid and utilitarian. But when your journey is to be beyond the rim of the world, romance meets you, even at Victoria, and this noisy dull place becomes like the miserable doorkeeper of a palace.
How I welcome the hospitable appearance of that refuge, the Orient Express, with the places I sought painted in red letters on a white iron sheet on its sides – ‘Milan,’ ‘Venice,’ ‘Trieste,’ andway beyond, ‘Constantinople.’
Wanderings and Excursions is not currently in print which is a pity, if unsurprising. I could not find a copy of the text online even though it appears to be out of copyright but second-hand copies are available via Abebooks,here.
Much more important to me than cameras..were my journals; because all that I have ever really needed to record what I needed to record has been in a notebook.
Eric Newby is one of the most celebrated English travel writers. Growing up between the wars close to the River Thames in south-west London, Newby was inspired to travel in part by hearing Apsley Cherry-Garrard (one of Scott’s party and the author of The Worst Journey In The World) speak at his school and by a set of books belonging to his father, the Children’s Colour Book of Lands and Peoples.
Newby began his travels in 1938 when he joined the crew of a four-masted Finnish barque which was still engaged in the Australian grain trade.
During the Second World War, Newby served in The Black Watch and the Special Boat Service. On operations with the latter in 1942, he gained his first experience of Europe, landing by dinghy on Sicily where he was captured and sent to a POW camp in the Po valley.
He subsequently escaped and during a period of hiding met his wife. He was recaptured and was detained until the end of the war when he returned to Italy and married, Wanda, the girl he had met while in hiding. He recorded his wartime experiences in Love and War in the Apennines, published in 1971.
Following the war, Newby embarked on careers in the fashion industry (in his father’s business and with John Lewis) and publishing. In 1956, his first book, about his experience in the last Grain Race, was published.
His most famous book, A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush was published in 1958. Evelyn Waugh was sufficiently impressed by Newby’s writing to contribute a preface for no fee.
A Short Walk contains what the Telegraph called “the most celebrated meeting between travellers since that of Livingstone and Stanley”, when Newby encountered explorer Wilfred Thesiger.
Contrasting his own amateurism with that of Thesiger’s professionalism, Newby recalls Thesiger watching him and his companion inflate their camping mattresses, an act prompting Thesiger to comment: “God, you must be a couple of pansies.”
In 1963 he travelled the length of the Ganges by boat with his wife, Wanda, his account of which was published in 1966 as Slowly Down the Ganges.
After that trip, he became travel editor of the Observer, a post he held for 10 years from 1964 to 1973.
The chapters in What the Traveller Saw are largely made up of journeys from that period. However, the book serves as an excellent sampler of those, as well as more famous journeys Newby undertook and which later became books in their own right.
The book begins with chapters on his last Grain Race experience and his wartime experiences in Italy. It also contains a chapter on his journey back to Europe after walking in the Hindu Kush and another on his Ganges journey with Wanda.
There is a great deal more to What the Traveller Saw. Newby, it seems, was fortunate enough to have been in the right place at the right time, whether visiting Kenya in the years soon after its independence from Britain or China at a time when it was relatively closed to tourism.
Newby was obviously someone who relished travel in all its forms, demonstrated in What the Traveller Saw by the wide range of travel experiences from places evoking the edge of the world (Lisbon, Scilly Isles, Ireland), the desolation of the Australian outback, the dense urbanisation of Japan and Hong Kong and the tropical comfort of Bali and Fiji.
His journeys always seem to open up possibilities; more walks and trips for which the present journey permits no time. His horizons are always expanding, the world becoming larger the more he travels.
However he travels, whether by sailing boat, ocean liner, train, canoe, plane or rowing boat Newby is an enthusiastic traveller and always appears to be enjoying himself.
Despite his taste for adventurous travel (see for example the chapter on the first descent by a European of the Wakwayowkastic, a tributary of the Moose River in Ontario), Newby is also cheerful visiting places well known to tourism.
Although not in thrall to the development of tourist amenities at Petra, he does not allow that to dampen his exhilaration at visiting somewhere he had been inspired to visit reading the Children’s Book of Lands and Peoples at the age of 8:
The Siq went on and on, down and down, a journey I wished could be prolonged indefinitely. Merely to go through it was worth the journey from Amman […] nothing can compare with that first vision of El Khazna, seen as one emerges from the darkness of the Siq.
No matter to Newby that he was not Burckhardt re-discovering Petra, surrounded only by Bedouin. His good cheer is a good example to bear in mind whenever the temptation to bemoan the presence of other tourists rises.
To Newby’s eye for detail, gentle humour and Englishness, this volume also adds a good selection of Newby’s own photography, a skill he developed while at The Observer.
In his introduction, Newby notes that many of the photos were taken during that period, which he describes of one of the happiest of his life, noting:
As a result, What the Traveller Saw essentially commemorates the past, and, in may cases, a world that has changed beyond all recognition.
It is fitting, therefore, that he ends this collection where it began, in Italy, with a 1988 piece written about Sicily, the place where his European travels began some 45 years previously.
Eric Newby died in 2006. Obituaries giving an overview of his career and life can be found in The Guardian and Telegraph. Eric Newby appeared on BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs in 1982, which can be heard online here, (or using the embedded player below).
I chose a bike instead of a partner, the road instead of a basecamp. I chose Krygyzstan. Its intriguing network of old Soviet roads and endless peaks. I had no expectations other than what the guidebook said: Kyrgyzstan, the Switzerland of Central Asia.
Kyle Dempster is one of the world’s most accomplished alpine climbers who has trips to Pakistan, China, south America and the Canadian Arctic under his belt. The Road from Karakolfollows Dempster on a climbing trip to Kyrgyzstan in the summer of 2011.
Dempster explored Kyrgyzstan by mountain bike, while pulling a trailer full of climbing kit. In a country where 90% of the territory is above 1,500m and 40% is above 3,000m, that alone is no mean feet.
He had originally intended to make the trip with his girlfriend but after she had to pull out owing to a skiing accident, Dempster decided to make the trip alone.
We use the word suffering way too much. Every adventure has both the light, the dark, the toil, the reward. To experience that alone is to become absorbed by an activity, by a place, by its people. The wall of daily noise, the modern trappings that define our identities give way. Our mental defenses grow thin. You no longer know where you end and the world begins. We become raw. This is why we take the trip. That is what we’ve come for.
For two months, Dempster cycled nearly 1,200 km on roads of varying quality through spectacular mountain scenery, crossing rivers, soloing peaks, passing through abandoned Soviet-era towns and drinking vodka, lots of vodka.
He recorded his journey using a mixture of GoPro and point-and-shoot, filming nearly 25 hours of footage. On his return, what was intended to be a four-minute climbing film was turned, with the assistance of Duct Tape then Beer and an editing process that took about a year, into the 25 minute The Road from Karakol.
The Road to Karakol is an extraordinary journey. It is not a self-aggrandizing video or sponsorship film but a personal record of an adventure where things do not go as planned and where Dempster is prepared to appear naked before the camera (emotionally as well as physically).
The camera is his companion and he shares his thoughts and fears, including a video letter to his family and loved ones, as well as his triumphs. His journey through the deserted valleys and mountains of Kyrgyzstan to rejoin civilisation is a testament to his determination and perseverance. Inspiring and impressive stuff.
Here’s what I believe. Real adventure is not polished. It’s not the result of some marketing budget. There’s no hashtag for it. It burns brightest on the map’s edges but it exists in all of us. It exists at the intersection of imagination and the ridiculous. You have to have faith. It will find you there and when it does, remember there’s just one question. In this life when the road comes to an end, will you keep pedalling?
For more background to this story, read Kyle Dempster’s interview with The Bicycle Story,here, Kyle Dempster’s interview with Alastair Humphreys, here, or visit the film’s website, at www.theroadfromkarakol.com.
I respect the people I photograph. Respect is the most important element in establishing a relationship with the subjects of your pictures and is key to accessing their real life.
Short but sweet photo essay from Reuters Wider Image and Mexican-born photojournalist Jorge Silva focussing on the iconic Vietnamese cone hat.
Currently based in Bangkok, Jorge Silva took these photos in Hoi An. Famous for being laid back, full of old world charm and its historic centre which blends Vietnamese, Japanese, Chinese and French colonial architecture, Hoi An contrasts with the traffic and pollution found in other Vietnamese cities.
Hoi An’s well-preserved state owes more to luck than design. It was once a busy port whose importance dwindled after its river silted up; until tourists started arriving in the 1990s, that is.
The iconic hats themselves, found in various forms throughout Southeast Asia, are made of materials such as palm leaves, tree bark and bamboo, hence their name in Vietnamese: non la, or leaf hats.
I just thought it was really fascinating to see the different layers of the city, how it’s just so stacked together how people are so compressed and how they find a way to exploit every little nook and cranny of space to their advantage and I felt like it was a little wild and had a lot of energy to it so I wanted to make a film that was sort of like a roller coaster ride through the city.
Great video from filmmaker Brandon Li. Seven minutes but worth a watch.
A whirlwind insight showing Hong Kong from a number of angles. Split into three distinct acts with an original soundtrack the film was shot over the course of one month filming 2-5 hours of footage a day.
With a great sense of fluidity the film shows dancing lions, urban explorers, mah jong, yacht racing, fireworks, Cantonese opera, an incense ceremony, buddhas, some superb behind the scenes footage and, of course, Hong Kong’s distinctive skyline.
I am a nomad I don’t have a fixed address I travel all over the world and I make short films about the places I have been.
Brandon Li’s director’s commentary to the video is on Youtube here, and more of his films can be seen on Vimeo here or on his website: www.unscripted.com.
UrbaniStan is a street photography project that explores the urban environment of the developing world. The project aims to demonstrate that ‘urban’ in the developing world does not necessarily mean modern and to draw the attention of the general public to the slowly declining social values that are sinking under increasing pressures of modernisation.
Excellent photo essay from Maptia and Slovenian photographer, Matjaž Krivic.
Breathtaking in its scope and with beautiful images, this gallery of 80 images of urban life around the world is a visual feast for any travel lover.
The photos in this gallery are the result of Krivic’s many years’ globe-trotting in Asia, Africa and the Middle East but they are much more than simply a collection of postcard images of famous places.
Although many of the locations are well known, Krivic captures a different angle and gives them a personality whether it is of boys playing volleyball on the streets of Thula in Yemen, Jaipur primary school pupils having a maths lesson, a boy studying at a medrassa in Mali or people at work, play or prayer around the world.
Matjaž Krivic has been travelling and photographing the world for 22 years. According to his website, he focusses on poorer parts of the world “characterised by traditions, social unrest and religious devotion…the marginal world – the voices of the neglected”.
Intimate, spontaneous and striking, this is a gallery to get lost in, to wonder not only at the places themselves but also at the people who live there and the lives they lead. Inspiring and thought provoking.
More of Matjaž Krivic’s work can be found on his website (www.krivic.com), on Instagram (@krivicmatjaz) or on Twitter (@matjazkrivic) and if 80 photos aren’t enough and you want to see more of the Urbanistan photos, look here.
The subject is a small community on the island of Sumbawa in Indonesia. One of the Lesser Sunda islands, the chain stretching east from Java towards Darwin, Australia and Papua New Guinea, Sumbawa is located between the more famous islands of Lombok and Flores.
Lula Ash’s photos concentrate on the rhythm of the community’s life which is dictated by the tides as they go about daily life, fishing, harvesting seaweed, fixing boats and surfing.
Located in a distant corner of India, east of Bangladesh and south of the eastern Himalayas, and separated from the rest of the country by a range of hills, Horatio Clare reports on the sleepy yet majestic land lying in the Brahmaputra valley.
In this richly written piece, Horatio Clare looks beyond the tea plantations and finds abundant wildlife on the Brahmaputra floodplain, in Assam’s swamps and savannah and in Kaziranga National Park, home to rhino, elephants and tigers.
Clare describes a culture and people which link the Indian subcontinent with Southeast Asia, and finds that the unhurried pace of life, predominantly agrarian lifestyle, and relatively few foreign visitors give Assam a rockpool-like character reminiscent of an older India.
Horatio Clare spoke at the Hay Festival in May 2015 on the subject “Why I Write”, explaining that:
Setting the world to words as if to music, is the ambition of the writer…I write because I have no wish to live in a world where the sky and the birds and the slants of light and the moods of a day and the tones of the night are of no consequence… If I have any gift, it is to set the people I write about in the actual world and to hymn that world, this precious place, our miraculous blue green bulb.
I am having by far the most interesting time of my life…I am so thankful to be here at this time.
Interesting trailer for the Kickstarter funded documentary about Gertrude Bell, the woman who was more influential in the Middle East than her contemporary Lawrence of Arabia and who shaped the destiny of Iraq.
The trailer for Letters from Baghdad gives an overview of Gertrude Bell’s privileged upbringing and her subsequent career as adventurer diplomat, archaeologist and spy in the first quarter of the 20th century.
Using fascinating archive footage and with Tilda Swinton reading from Gertrude Bell’s correspondence, this documentary will be one to watch as it follows the incredible career of a woman who rose to a position of extraordinary influence in two male dominated cultures.
An enduring story, the film also explores how Bell’s influence echoes in our own time, drawing parallels between her insights and current affairs.
At the time of writing, it looked as though the film will be ready for release shortly with previews already taking place. Certainly one to watch out for.
Didn’t we want to Couchsurf in such a remote place? Well then, this is the time to suck it up.
An article from the Perceptive Travelblog about a standoff between people caught between the norms and expectations of their own cultures and those of another culture they are keen to learn about.
In No Country for Honest Men, when Marco Ferrarese and his girlfriend go in search of a remote, local couch surfing experience in Tajikistan, a failure to tell an untruth means they get a deeper cultural insight than they expected as they run up against the moral and religious beliefs of their hosts.
The story is humorously told and nicely describes the social awkwardness of sitting down to afternoon tea with a family in Central Asia where there is no common language.
It is also a reminder that if we want to travel deeply and experience other cultures, that means respecting local customs and beliefs even if they are different to our own. In this case, the extent of the cultural divide seems to take both host and guests equally by surprise, even though both have some understanding of the other and the encounter is one wanted by all concerned.
From covering up at religious sites or eating with the correct hand to not stripping off at the top of sacred mountains or having sex on beaches, (almost) all travellers adjust their behaviour to avoid causing offence and out of respect for local laws, customs and religion.
The custom may not always conform to our own values or morals but whatever our views is it right that, as a visitor, we should expect those in countries we have chosen to visit to adjust their attitudes to suit our values rather than the other way around?
Sometimes, as Ferrarese points out, you have to be flexible when travelling and just suck it up.
Author Marco Ferrarese is based in Malaysia. Read more of his travel writing at www.monkeyrockworld.com or follow him on twitter @monkeyrockworld.
Great, short video from Koatlas of a trip through Rajasthan, Delhi, Agra and Amritsar.
From looking at a guidebook and imagining a place to being plunged into the sights and sounds of its street life, this travel video nicely captures the experience of travel in Rajasthan, India and what is more, manages it without using time lapse.
Koatlas is a social network aimed at travellers to explore routes taken by other travellers as well as to plan and share their own routes.
The website is not up and running yet but hopefully, it won’t be too long. In the meantime, follow Koatlas on Instagram,FacebookorTwitter.
Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.
Mark Twain’s famous lines from Innocents Abroad are well known and widely quoted. However, after overcoming anger at the murder of his brother, Aziz Abu Sarah has been putting them into practice.
Realising that what separated Palestinians and Israelis were hatred and ignorance, Aziz decided to dedicate himself to breaking down walls and building positive connections between people. He co-founded a company, Medji Tours, which runs tours highlighting different cultural, religious, political, and ethnic narratives within the countries they visit. To achieve this each tour is led by two guides from different religious or political backgrounds.
By getting tourists off buses and promoting engagement with local communities, Aziz and Medji Tours believe that tourism offers a viable way to remove barriers, foster connections and build friendships.
Medji Tours started in Israel and Palestine and now runs tour in Oman, Jordan, Turkey as well as Ireland and Cuba.