Illustrations by Tim TomKinson

With another installment of the addictive Emmy award-winning The Amazing Race barreling towards its conclusion, TV watchers will soon be left with an extra hour to kill on Sunday nights.

To fill the void left by Phil Keoghan, Jerry Bruckheimer, and those yellow and red route markers, we recommend Steve Hely and Vali Chandrasekaran’s The Ridiculous Race.

Published earlier this year, The Ridiculous Race is a dual-narrative of two best friends racing each other around the globe.

The prize? A bottle of Scotch. The catch? No airplanes.

Final destination aside, Steve and Vali prove that it’s really all about the journey.

And their background in television writing (Steve is currently on American Dad’s writing staff and Vali works for My Name is Earl) makes their Race a truly ridiculous-and ridiculously amazing-book to read.

BNT recently chatted with Hollywood’s intrepid travelers, who discussed everything from airplanes versus jetpacks to Madonna to Pico Iyer.

BNT: Did either/both of you travel a lot growing up or harbor any wanderlust? Who were your travel influences for this trip?

Steve chokes Vali for handcuffing him at the start of the race.

SH: Yes, I’ve had horrible, incurable wanderlust all my life. I remember once talking my dad into driving me to Albany once just so I could have a look at it.

We had a long, silent ride home.

VC: While I was growing up, my family made frequent trips to India to visit relatives. My father would stay for as long as his job’s vacation policy would allow (usually two or three weeks) and my mother, sister, and I would stay for the entirety of our summer vacation from school.

Since this didn’t overlap with the summer vacations of my cousins (their break was shorter and came in spring if I remember correctly), I spent much of my time in India reading books. I can’t remember a single one of them.

To answer the second part of your question, my main travel influence for this trip is the same as the main overall influence in my life: Madonna.

What led to the development of The Ridiculous Race? Was it always a book idea or did it originally come out of the age old question “What do we do during hiatus?”

SH: The idea definitely came first – the idea of racing around the world. The “book” aspect was more just a way of getting someone to pay us to do it.

Had we known how hard it was to write a book, we probably just would’ve forgotten about it and gone to San Diego.

VC: I came up with the idea by myself with no help from anyone. And no booze was involved. Whatever anyone else (Steve) says is textbook poppycock.

You made the trips in the summer of 2007, just a few months before the WGA strike. Did the knowledge that a strike may happen impact your trip at all–or did the strike itself impact your writing of The Ridiculous Race?

VC: To be honest, none of the TV writers I knew really thought the strike was going to happen until the week before it actually did happen. We are notoriously bad at predicting the future, especially our own.

So the strike didn’t impact the trip, but it did impact the writing. I, for one, would have never been able to finish writing the book in time for our publication date if I had still been working full time at My Name is Earl in November and December of 2007.

The on-time publication of the Ridiculous Race was one benefit of the strike that the press repeatedly refused to report on.

SH: Without the strike, we never would’ve finished the manuscript on time-we were way, way behind when the studios and the WGA colluded to give us an unscheduled vacation.

We might’ve been the only writers in LA who were happy about it. Not that writing in any way took away from my nonstop effort to bring labor justice to Hollywood.

There’s an obvious connection to CBS’s Amazing Race while diverting heavily from the Bruckheimer concept (no planes, a bottle of Scotch for the winner, no Road Blocks). Do you think you could beat TAR teams given the chance?

Vali riding a Segway in Paris

VC: I’ve actually never seen an entire episode of the Amazing Race. What I’ve seen seems like less of a travel show and more of a which-camera-crew-aided-team-can-make-it-to-the-airport first.

Since I’m habitually late to the airport, I seriously doubt I could beat any of the TAR teams.

SH: Part of our pitch for the book was pointing out that as soon as you have cameras, you’ve changed the situation, and taken a lot of the fun out. One lanky guy alone in the Mongolian wilderness is a lot different than a heavily insured guy and a camera crew out in the Mongolian wilderness.

I’d argue that the first situation makes for much better comedy, but admittedly it’s pretty hard to make a TV show without cameras. Former Amazing Race champion BJ Averell was in college with me; I would not wish to compete against him in a contest of antics.

I think if Vali and I were on The Amazing Race, we’d spend most our time playing pranks on our cameraman.

While traveling under the clock, did you feel you got to truly “experience” the places you visited? Where would you like to go back and explore some more?

SH: Oh, I think 3 days is more than enough time to fully experience China. I had the place figured out after about six hours.

I am only joking of course! Part of the fun of this book was trying to consume as much “experience” as possible, a challenge which very nearly caused me to die of exhaustion.

I’m sure it was annoying to many of the people whose paths I crossed, too:

Steve: AHH, I NEED TO EXPERIENCE EVERYTHING ABOUT LIFE ON A CARGO SHIP! Help me have EXPERIENCE!
Sailor: Uh, I just work here man. I’m changing the ballast water.
Steve: CHANGING THE BALLAST WATER! EXPERIENCE!!!
Sailor: Maybe you should go take a nap.

VC: I definitely did not get to truly experience the places I visited. Early on in the race, when I was in Mexico I realized that I was wasting this wonderful opportunity to see the world because I was going too fast.

So I slowed things down a little bit. But even then, I never spent as much time as I wanted in a single place. Hopefully, I’ll have a chance to go back to every place I visited during the Ridiculous Race.

However if I had to pick a favorite region, it would be the Middle East. It’s the place I’ve read so much about, but actually knew so little about.

My night accidentally spent in Palestine, with a bunch of basketball players, watching army flares and floating in the Dead Sea will always be one of the most memorable nights of my life.

What did you take into consideration when picking the points on your race? How did you navigate the no-planes policy?

Steve and Vali meet halfway around the world to
have lunch with a polar bear

*SPOILER ALERT*

VC: I ignored the no planes policy and picked the points on the globe I thought would be the most interesting to visit. It was actually pretty difficult to choose because I wanted to go everywhere.

The one place I really wish I had gone, but didn’t, was the region where Brazil, Uruguay, and Argentina meet. It’s sort of an un-ruled no-man’s-land.

I really wanted to buy some arms there that I could use to frame Steve and get him arrested by the F.B.I. Instead I drank beers in Rio.

SH: Well, this was very easy for me – my route is the best way to get around the world fastest if you’re not using airplanes.

And, because I’m very clever, and I figured Vali was too lazy to have figured this out, I casually suggested I go west, so I could

1. gain an hour every day, and
2. get on a ship in sensible English-speaking Long Beach as opposed to insane Shanghai.

But the key to any round the world race is the Trans-Siberian Railroad – you can cover a quarter of the earth’s surface while sitting in your PJs eating Snickers and reading Tom Clancy.

Since finishing, a friend of mine pointed out that I could’ve gone to South America and boarded a boat that rounded Antarctica, thus crossing every degree of longitude and thus making me the winner. But that might not have been as fun.

Speaking of no-planes, Vali, what made you decide to break down and go via air? Steve, did you have any clue he was flying while on your trip?

VC: I had been thinking about flying for a while, the notion of spending three weeks on freighters didn’t really appeal to me. I tried to circumvent this no-planes rule by purchasing a jet pack in Mexico, but it didn’t meet my personal safety standards.

Also, practically speaking, I wanted Steve and me to be having adventures in different places. I didn’t think anyone wanted to read two accounts of how mind-breakingly boring crossing the Pacific on a freighter is.

SH: I assumed Vali would do something stupid. And he’d been talking about this jetpack inventor for years, so I figured that might factor in.

I did think he’d at least make an honest effort-I was terrified this book would contain two long descriptions of the Queen Mary, since that was the fastest way to cross the Atlantic.

Finally, will there be any upcoming races or travelogues? Should Pico Iyer be quaking in his boots?

VC: I am currently in training to break the land speed record (currently 763 mph) without using any machines. I’m almost ready for the attempt. All I have left to do is select a pair of running sneakers.

SH: I hereby challenge Pico Iyer and HIS friend, the Dalai Lama, to a race across Africa by bicycle!

BNT anxiously awaits Pico’s response.

Buy the Ridiculous Race on Amazon here. Also, check out a review by Nerd’s Eye View.

What do you think of Steve and Vali’s Ridiculous Race? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Their vineyards are turning out good vintages, the architecture is Paris-lite, there is an abundance of culture and adventure, and it’s all there to be had for a fraction of the cost.

Part of this is what led Camille Cusumano to extend her brief jaunt to Buenos Aires into a full-fledged expat’s life for over a year (even now in San Francisco she yearns to cross the Equator again).

And, keeping up with the modern-day Lost Generation, she wrote about it. The editor of several Love Story anthologies for the travel arm of Seal Press, Cusumano’s Tango: An Argentine Love Story is her first full-length memoir and is now available in bookstores and online.

I caught her in between dances to get the scoop on writing, dancing, and dealing with corrupt governments.

Photo by -just-jen-

BNT: What is it about tango?

Camille Cusumano: How to answer that question simply…I didn’t expect to [fall for it], number one. But once I explored it out of curiosity it sort of crept into my mind and my body and my life.

I think I started to notice that there was a similarity between my Zen meditation practice and my yoga and my tango, which seems kind of strange since It’s considered to be a very sexy dance, very worldly.

But I couldn’t ignore that the dance requires you to show up and surrender and not think…It’s kind of a dance of improvisation. So people who don’t dance tango know it from the show tango. It’s still tango, but it’s a little different because it’s choreographed.

When you dance tango socially, you just go to what’s called a milonga (That’s the venue) and you ask or wait to be asked to dance. There are six basic steps upon which everything else is built, but you don’t know how they’re going to be approached. It’s like a language.

You don’t know what people are going to say to you even though you know the words when you meet them.

For the dance to work, you have to have connection. Again, it goes back to requiring surrender and just being there, fully. I could go on for a long time…That’s why I wrote a book!

The dance is almost like a journey in and of itself.

It’s a journey in self knowledge but in a way that makes you a better person for being intimate with other people.

It’s kind of a paradox because tango-just like Zen-seems to attract a lot of people who like to be by themselves, who like solitude. You’re not supposed to talk when you dance tangs (it’s part of the etiquette.)

And yet, for the dance to work on the most deep level, you have to open yourself, open your heart and be there. You have to be willing and vulnerable in a healthy way. It is paradoxical in that way.

And so it’s very sexy and earthy and sensual, but it starts to become spiritual, too.

So when you moved to Argentina, was it a double whammy of sorts, both going to Argentina and going to this state of tango? Was your move deliberate?

That’s a great question because it’s good information to share with people. I didn’t have much of a plan. I was in a bad state, as I say now because it’s not true of me anymore, I went to Buenos Aires with murder in my heart.

I was very unhappy because my relationship of 15 years had ended suddenly…seemingly suddenly. Of course, I was in denial of our problems; there was another woman and she had been a friend. It’s just garden variety suffering now, but at the time no one was suffering the way I was suffering.

Photo by Alaskan Dude

I had already planned to go to Buenos Aires for two months when all this happened and it turned out the best thing to get out of town. I knew after two days that it was the best thing to be there. I was in this cloud of confusion [before] and could clearly see within two hours [of being in Argentina].

So I changed my ticket right away–cancelled the return–and just knew I was going to stay there until I didn’t have murder in my heart. And tango was part of the healing process. And I also found a little Zen community and did all my meditation by day and danced by night.

And in the dance of connecting with so many strangers, I always wonder how many miles I really danced and how many different people I leaned up against, torso to torso.

In doing all that, I started to really find a place of love for everyone. It just felt that good to have that on the dance floor and I wanted to take it away. I didn’t want it to not be that way when I wasn’t dancing.

Tango is like a fever… it’s an infectious at-ease rather than an infectious disease. It gets in your body so you never get rid of it, it’s a virus in that way but it’s a good thing.

Once you’ve experienced this kind of love, you still have your moods, you still have your bad days, but it rears its head and it says “get thee to a milonga! Go dance!” And it’s there again. The fever rises and…I could make all outrageous claims for tango.

I think a lot of people feel that way about travel. And for most of us, there’s some aspect of travel that we latch onto in that idea of infectious at-ease.

I don’t ever try to convince everyone that they have to do tango to be happy as I am. Everybody’s got tango, and your tango is your clutch on this place.

It takes you out of yourself, it breaks down your defenses, your barriers, and boy, if leaning up against a stranger and getting in his or her warm body envelope doesn’t do it, nothing will!

There are many countries besides Argentina that have embraced tango, especially in Europe. Yet you mention in the book that both you and Argentina were going through a sort of mutual crises (similar, actually, to what we’re going through now).

It seems like there was a kind of misery loves company situation. Did this influence your decision to go to Argentina in general?

Oh, yes. It was this sort of homeopathic treatment. They were going through the same dis-ease as me. I felt very comfortable with them.

Also, as I write about in the book, I’m from an Italian American family-very Italian American-and the culture there is very Italian American, which a lot of people don’t realize, especially in Buenos Aires.

There are immigrants here from everywhere in Europe (and all around the world). But the dominant culture, after Spanish, is Italian-the food, the names, the language. Three of my four best friends [in Argentina] are like me, Italian South Americans.

I love the language; it’s Spanish but has a lot of Italian influence. There’s a saying down there that an Argentine is an Italian who speaks Spanish and thinks he’s French. And the last part refers to the fact that they like thinking of themselves as haughty.

They like their European culture. They do have some indigenous blood that has survived, but sadly a lot of it was wiped out.

Photo by .:elNico:.

How do you feel about Argentina becoming the next hot destination in travel?

Kind of mixed. Of course, it’s wonderful for them, and I love the youthfulness of that.

It reminds me of Paris in the 1920s, the Lost Generation went there to get away from America and have this European sophisticated culture and it was also cheaper.

There’s a lot of artistic firmament that I love being around. Francis Ford Coppola has a place there, and he’s been filming a movie there. I like that I got in on the cusp; I’m worried now that on the other hand it’s going to make it too expensive and overrun with too much attention.

But it’s okay, I had my time there.

Speaking of the Lost Generation, what got you into writing?

I’m one of those writers that wrote all her life and “That’s what I wanted to be” and “That’s what I thought I couldn’t be” because I was lost in the middle of a big family.

I was the fifth of ten kids, and in my Italian family, boys got the attention for developing in their careers. I did find my way because I wanted it very badly, and the way I did it was to get back-up degrees in Psychology (which I never used) and in French. The French was the connection for me.

So from French my first job out of grad school was on a French newspaper, which is still published here in San Francisco, called Le Journal Français.

So I got into publishing and writing film and restaurant reviews and meeting with cultural French icons who came through-Yves Montand and all those people.

That got me started, and then of course I wanted to write in my native tongue. I worked at Rodale price for about four or five years back east writing food books, health books, fitness…

I started writing for magazines. When I got tired of writing about food, I got into writing about travel. My first travel article was about a pike tour to Provence and it was when those bike tours were just starting and you stay in chateaux and castles.

And so I stayed in travel up until three years ago when I left a long-time staff editor job on Via magazine.

And I was thinking today how I loved writing travel, but the thing about food and travel writing in that milieu is that you have to write about how good you feel. If you don’t feel good about something, you don’t write about it. And I left that for writing about how bad I felt. It was another corner to turn.

Photo by einalem

Would you say that travel is one of the best healing tools? It seems that you latched onto that and your Zen and tango rather than going for a traditional “healing tool.”

YES, absolutely. There’s nothing like it. It’s not the first time I had a spiritual crisis, but in the past I’d taken off for France or Italy or Alaska–

Where you could see Russia from your house.

I love Alaska and she is just so alien to everything I love about it. You don’t have to run into Sarah Palin when you’re up there.

That kind of relates to your love of Argentina, where many people still associate it with Nazis and corrupt political officers and Eva Peron. Your book argues that no matter what physical state the country is in, you can still find beauty.

That’s a great point. I took refuge in a country that welcomed Nazis, that had this horrible dirty war against its own citizens, they killed horribly, and then wasted their money. The governments loved corruption there.

And here I am, traveling there to heal, and it’s okay. It worked. It may be counter-intuitive, you’d think I should go to the monastery and breathe clean air, but I found a lot of people there and one of them teaches yoga and does a lot of alternative healing.

It’s all just taking yourself out of the familiar, and there was something there that called me even amid all this corruption.

Now that Argentina is more familiar to you, do you have a next place on your travel list?

I definitely want to go back. I am only up here spending so much time because I wanted to take care of the book and promoting it.

I want to go back to Argentina and be with my community of friends and see more of Argentina, particularly near Salta which is near the Bolivian border. I understand you can get a sense of the indigenous culture there, which I kind of miss.

And I want to get to Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, now that it’s no longer a mystery to me. South America used to seem so far away and exotic. Now it’s a place I can call home. And then Asia…I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t really set foot in Asia.

I would like to go to India, make a pilgrimage of sorts, also because of my Zen background I would like to visit the monasteries in Kyoto.

And then I also just still thinking about Three Cups of Tea and I’m not gonna get to Pakistan right now, but he just makes those people-that’s what travel does, it makes you see people, not governments.

So will we be able to look out for Southeast Asia: A Love Story or South America: A Love Story from Seal Press any time soon?

I’m trying to talk to my editor. I need a new book! I hope so.

So do we. Thanks, Camille.

For more about Camille Cusumano, visit her website.

Feature photo by Flickmor. Photo above by teresia.

Ask Benyamin Cohen, and you’ll find that there’s a 50/50 chance you’re putting on your shoes in the wrong way.

However, the son of a rabbi (whose wife even became a member of the Tribe) and former editor-in-chief of American Jewish Life will also tell you that for a time he wondered if going to church was more fun than a Saturday morning at temple.

What started out as a month in the summer visiting different churches in the Atlanta area for an article for his Jewish version of Rolling Stone soon, with the help of a book deal, became a year full of Evangelical escapades, Baptist benders, and Christian carousing.

Yet beneath the big-picture trip along the Bible Belt was an even larger inner journey for Cohen.

In between Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and the release for his memoir-cum-travelogue, My Jesus Year, we chatted about that journey.

Photo by Thomas Hawk.

BNT: Born into a very Jewish family, how religious did you consider yourself growing up? How religious do you consider yourself to be now?

BENJAMIN: I grew up the son of an Orthodox rabbi who built a 1000-square-foot synagogue onto the side of our house. So I guess you could say I was religious.

We kept kosher, observed the Sabbath, and kept the 611 other laws prescribed in the Old Testament and hyper-explained in the thousands of Aramaic pages that make up the 20 encyclopedia-sized volumes of the Babylonian Talmud.

Odd items, too, like not being able use an umbrella on the Sabbath, or being told to put my right shoe on before my left one. This was how Judaism was taught to me as a kid-as one long legal theories class.

Now as adult, no longer living under the rabbinic roof of my father, I am able to experience Judaism in a new light. I no longer feel forced to do these things, but instead choose to do them on my own.

It’s an invigorating experience and one that came about because of the journey I took for My Jesus Year.

Photo by mudpig.

How did you make the jump from church wonder/envy as a kid to the adult notion of positioning church as an exotic destination (especially to members of the tribe)? Has this been something that stuck with you through the course of your life?

I don’t think our childhood sense of wonder ever really disappears. Not to mention that basic human psyche dictates that we always desire the things we can’t have.

Put those two things together and church became my snake, apple, and Garden of Eden all rolled into one. It simply became something I could no longer avoid if I had any notion of growing spiritually.

What compelled you to continue seeking out the Jesus experience once the article became a book?

I first spent just a summer going to church. While that short exposure to Christianity made for a good pitch for a magazine style piece, it left me unfulfilled in the spirituality department.

Would you consider this your first religious trip, or have you done the Israel tour as well? If so, how would you compare your religious experiences (no pun intended) in the American South versus the Holy Land?

I’ve been to Israel a couple times (my mother is buried there) and, truth be told, the Holy Land never really did anything for me on a spiritual level.

I didn’t have any “Aha” moment there. I guess the reason is because I’ve been on a constant religious journey my entire life. Not a day has gone by where Judaism wasn’t always front and center in my mind.

Even on the most basic level-from what kind of food I can eat to reciting a blessing every time I use the restroom (yet another Jewish law), my religion has never stopped being a strong force in my life.

Photo by Christopher Chan.

In the New Birth mega church story, you mention hoping to blend in (or at least not stand out too much). Ironically, a sentiment shared by many intrepid travelers who want to meld with their surroundings (and the surrounding people). In the end, do you think it was better to blend in or stick out?

Being the only Jew in church is not the most comfortable situation to be in. Having everyone know that you’re the only Jew in church is even more uncomfortable.

Almost everywhere I went, I wore a Jewish skullcap and press pass so I stuck out like…well, like a Jew in church. It certainly ended up being a better situation for me.

Despite my initial feelings of awkwardness, it allowed churchgoers to not only notice the stranger among them, but engage me in conversation as well. It’s how I met many of the people from my journey.

The overarching journey of this trip seems to be an inner journey-the son of an Orthodox rabbi coming to terms with his own religion and spirituality.

However, you have numerous interactions with natives to the Christian/Catholic faith (and a few mentions of invasion of personal space). How did these external encounters influence your internal journey?

I’m certainly a guy who likes having privacy and enjoying my personal space.

But, as I mentioned above, I don’t think I would have met as many people-people who ultimately influenced me on this spiritual pilgrimage-had it not been for these various encounters.

In a certain sense, the book becomes more about them, these religious characters I meet, and I become merely a fly on the wall observing them.

Photo by coda.

On a related note, churches (and other houses of worship) across the world have become tourist attractions (e.g., Notre Dame, the Vatican, St. John the Divine, etc.), yet many people visit when services are not being held.

How different do you think your trip would have been had you simply gone to church as a physical site rather than church as an event?

I don’t think the trip would’ve been the same at all. Going there for religious services-observing Christians in their natural habitat, so to speak-granted me access and insight I never would’ve been exposed to on a mere field trip.

Conversely, I went to a bunch of places that are not known for being houses of worship (baseball stadiums and Confederate memorials, just to name two) that were transformed into a church for the day.

Those instances, where faith and fandom met, made an even greater impression on me in some respect.

There’s a line between over-the-top and wholly spiritual that each congregation (and yourself) define differently between the different interactions.

Is Jesus becoming gentrified in a transformation similar to many urban neighborhoods? Or is there still a line between the physical space and the spiritual space that we occupy?

There’s a famous Jewish joke that says “Ask two Jews, get three opinions.”

What I discovered during this year was that there are more similarities than differences between Judaism and Christianity. And one of those similarities is the plethora of beliefs and opinions within different denominations.

There were some churches I attended that really brought Jesus into the 21st century.

One, for example, was a church that looked more like a coffeehouse, eschewing pews for couches and hipster lounge chairs. But at the same time, I visited churches and even a monastery where modernity was nowhere to be seen.

Each, in its own unique way, makes up the vast and varied collection of Christianity in this country.

Photo by skippy13.

In describing one church, you write in the original AJL piece: “the menorah on the wall, an absurdly placed Judaic symbol, scares the bejeezus out of me.”

Is the feeling similar to running into your boss while on vacation? You also begin the epilogue of the AJL piece with “It’s the following Sunday and I’ve woken up early in a sweat induced state of spiritual confusion. Is today the Sabbath? And whose Sabbath would that be?” Would you call that spiritual jet-lag?

I share many of those same sentiments in the book itself. I’m not sure if seeing a Jewish symbol in church is akin to seeing the boss on vacation.

Since my boss is Jewish, maybe it’s more like seeing my boss in church. I think it was more the shock of finding out that some Christians are a) very interested in Judaism, and b) even go so far as to bring Jewish symbols and even some holidays into their service.

After a year of going to church, I certainly felt some spiritual jet-lag. Besides actually being tired from going to such a myriad of services, I started to feel an odd sense of cognitive dissonance.

As I write in the book, I led the prayer services at synagogue one morning and just the day before I was attending a Catholic mass. I felt like a fraud. Here I was representing my congregation and, little did they know I had been jonesing with Jesus 24 hours earlier.

Well, I guess now that the book has been published, my secret’s out.

I find you make the point that travel is not about the destination as an inanimate object, but rather the experience you have once your there. Was this a deliberate point, or a serendipitous connection?

One of my favorite quotes is “Life is a journey, not a destination.” It’s a guiding principle that lights the way for most everything I do. So in that sense I’d say it was deliberate.

But, by the same token, I never could have planned all that I saw on my church-hopping adventure. The people I met, the places I went, the experiences I had-it was all serendipity played out right in from of me. It was, perhaps, divine intervention.

Visit the official book site for My Jesus Year to learn more.

Christopher Rufo and Keith Ochwat / Roughing It Creators

Drinking and travel tend to go hand in hand.

Think of Munich and you can’t help but envision Oktoberfest. Imagine Russia, you inevitably conjure up endless rounds of vodka. Japan equals sake; Mexico, tequila; Italy, wine; Scotland, Scotch.

As Christopher Rufo and Keith Ochwat will tell you, Mongolia means fermented horse’s milk.

Christopher and Keith abandoned their careers in order to travel to northern Asia with nothing but a backpack and some camera equipment. The result is the riveting PBS documentary Roughing It: Mongolia.

Filmed by Christopher and hosted by Keith, Roughing It: Mongolia encompasses everything from traditional throat singing to reindeer herding to a local wedding to the country’s aforementioned national drink.

National Geographic’s standout Intelligent Travel blog, praised the duo for “succeed[ing] in capturing honest scenes with unique personalities,” and the New York Times noted that both men have “a good eye for the unusual.”

With a future series encompassing the South Pacific in the works for PBS, we recently spoke with both Christopher and Keith about the inspiration for Roughing It.

BNT: In a previous interview at BNT, travel writer David Farley said:

“I think because the suburbs were so sterile and so aesthetically redundant, I developed a passion for putting myself in environments that were antipodal to where I grew up. I didn’t know that I wanted to be a travel writer at the time, but this was when I vowed to create a life for myself that involved as much travel and as little routine as possible.”

Would you say that’s how you fell into traveling and travel documentaries as well?

Shooting the herd / Photo Rouging It

CR: I’m not sure that’s exactly it. In my travels abroad, I’ve met a lot of Westerners who seem to have totally rejected their home countries.

I just can’t understand this attitude. The more I travel abroad, the more I discover my appreciation for the United States. Keith and I grew up together in Sacramento, California, and, despite its drawbacks and relative sterility, we both love spending time there.

Travel is not so much a rejection of home as the desire to go beyond it. If anything, it’s the ease of suburban life that needs to be escaped from time to time.

Whenever I’m sick or frustrated during a journey, I remind myself that the word “travel” comes from the French travaille, meaning “to work” or “to toil.” There is a lot of wisdom in this etymology.

BNT: You started Roughing It with a focus on Mongolia; why did you pick that country in particular?

KO: Our goal with the Roughing It series is to travel to the world’s most remote and exotic places, and tell stories that have not been told to a broad American audience.

Chris and I have chosen travel destinations in the past by literally throwing a dart at a map, but we put a bit more thought into choosing our inaugural Roughing It location.

Originally, we were considering a program taking us and our viewers along the Trans-Siberian Railway. As Chris and I mulled over the possibility of spending weeks on a train, we thought focusing on one area would be a better fit and a more pleasant experience.

We chose Mongolia. It’s a remote country that most people know very little about, including ourselves at the time, and when we heard that Mongolia’s national alcohol is fermented horse milk, it sealed the deal.

BNT: Why the medium of film over, say, a travel book? Were either of you film majors?

CR: Neither of us studied film, and I think, in the end, it’s better that way. Some people can really thrive in a film school environment, but just as many can be stifled.

If you have passion and a vision, I think the technical knowledge will come quickly.

As far as the medium, there is a strong prejudice against the travel film as somewhat inferior to other forms of documentary. For a long time, too, travel writing was seen as sub-literary. When people heard “travel writing,” they thought guidebooks and information for tourists.

That changed in the 1970s and 1980s with writers like Colin Thubron, Paul Theroux, and Bruce Chatwin. Chatwin used to go into bookstores and see his books next to “Maui on a Shoestring.” He thought, rightly, that his books should be under Literature.

And, after some time, book publishers, sellers, reviewers, and readers started to agree with him.

I think the travel documentary is behind travel literature by about 30 years. It’s still stuck in “Maui on a Shoestring” and “Eat a Live Scorpion.” The one major exception is Michael Palin. His Himalaya, in particular, was a major influence for us.

In Mongolia, we would always joke: “What would Palin do?” When I look back at the film, it’s clear that we weren’t joking. Palin’s influence is definitely there, and I’m happy with it.

BNT: Who are your inspirations for travel? What travel writers are on your bookshelves?

Boy and his horse / Photo Rouging It

CR: Personally, I’m definitely more influenced by travel writers than travel filmmakers. There are filmmakers and photographers who inspire me visually–Cartier-Bresson is an influence, as is Werner Herzog.

More recently, the cinematography in Sean Penn’s Into the Wild was incredible. But, with Palin being the exception, it’s the travel writers who are really creating something meaningful and lasting.

People talk a lot about “travel attitude,” and I couldn’t think of a better one than Colin Thubron’s. He’s so impressive and erudite, and at the same time so humble and self-effacing. His book In Siberia is a masterpiece.

He captures the most incredible details and characters, and holds it all together with tight thematic interests and larger socio-historical questions. Erudition, adventure, poetic sensibility–he really sets the gold standard.

BNT: In other interviews, you’ve alluded to interviewing Mongolian President Nambaryn Enkhbayar. How did that not manage to make it into the final cut?

KO: Roughing It: Mongolia was originally intended to be an hour long program.

What we found as we shopped around our program to PBS and other distributors was that the strengths of our program and what sets ours apart from other travel shows is not the scenes where I was interviewing the President, or the leading religious figure in Mongolia.

Rather Roughing It really stood out in the scenes where we focus on interacting with Mongolians-when I try throat singing with a local throat singing group, when I camp out with nomadic reindeer herders, when I pathetically attempt to dethrone a provincial wrestling champion.

So after months and months of editing, and re-editing, we ultimately decided to make the show a half hour program focusing on the most interactive scenes, which were also the scenes that present viewers with the most candid window into Mongolian culture.

But don’t worry; our DVD has all the deleted scenes including our interview with the Mongolian Head of State.

BNT: Also on the topic of scenes that were cut, who won in the wrestling match between Keith and Olympic silver medalist Jamstying Davaajav?

KO: After my match with the provincial wrestling champion at the Naadam festival, I felt like I needed a few pointers so that next time around I wouldn’t walk away with a skinned knee and teary eyes. Who better to get wrestling tips from then Mongolia’s most accomplished Olympian?

The problem was that my ‘lesson’ was more of barrage of throws that left me flat on my back pretty much the entire time. I will say though, and Chris can substantiate this, Jamstying complimented me on my strong arms.

BNT: You seemed to travel with a light, even nomadic load while in Mongolia. What do you absolutely have to have? What’s one item you’ve left behind that you normally would feel glued to?

KO: Whenever I travel, I relish in the fact that I get to escape my cell phone. With all the calls Chris and I have had to make in promoting Roughing It and getting the series off the ground, I feel like it’s just another appendage.

Traveling light is an absolute must when you’re on the move as much as we had to be during production. I pity those backpackers who have bags strapped to their bodies that look as big as them.

When I’m packing my essentials, I never forget some pepto bismol, a good book, and my journal.

BNT: Finally, what’s up next for Roughing It?

CR: Right now, we’re in development for an eight-part PBS series called Roughing It: The Great Pacific.

We’re going to shoot more verité and really bring up our production value. And, most importantly, we’ll continue to find the most interesting people in the places we visit and tell their stories in the most compelling way.

It’s going to be six months of adventure through some of the most exotic and remote countries on the planet: Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, the Philippines, Papua New Guinea, and East Timor. We’re expecting a Fall 2009 release.

In the meantime, I’m finishing up production on a feature documentary called Diamond in the Dunes, which is the story of a Muslim baseball team in China’s Far West. We hope to start the festival circuit early next year.

Learn more about Roughing It: Mongolia and even watch a few video clips.

A scene from “O Brother Where Art Thou?”

One traveling garden gnome. A star-crossed couple on a sinking ocean liner. Eleven crooks on a European heist. And Bond-James Bond.

These are just four of the travelers who didn’t make it onto our roundup of the twenty greatest travel films of all time. Not because we didn’t like Amelie, Titanic, Ocean’s 12 or the Bond movies, mind you, but because we just didn’t have the space.

Movies have the power to inspire, to take us on a trip without requiring us to get off the couch. And sometimes the most inspiring films aren’t really about travel at all.

Without further ado, here is BNT’s definitive list of the 20 greatest travel movies of all time.

The Inner Journey: Les Poupees russes and L’auberge Espagnole

These French films (both directed by Cedric Klapisch and both featuring the incandescent Audrey Tautou) follow the physical and mental travels of grad students (L’auberge) and, five years later,young professionals (Poupees).

It’s been argued that both films serve as apt allegories for the European Union-each main cast member is from a different country-and it was both hilarious and touching to see our heroes react to different situations as their cultures collided and coalesced.

The Holy Pilgrimage: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

It’s hard to choose between Raiders of the Lost Ark and Last Crusade for best Indiana Jones film (let’s pretend Temple of Doom never happened), but both are doubtless travel films that will make anyone want to hop a plane.

We give the edge to Last Crusade for the spine-tingling final trip to the grail’s lair (and we believe we have chosen…wisely).

Before that final scene, we get to see the scorching deserts of Utah, the canals of Venice, the streets of Nazi-era Berlin, and mysterious Jordan.

The First Date: Before Sunrise

Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy in “Before Sunrise”

It’s not exactly hostel sex (and many say that its sequel, Before Sunset is much better), but travel is still an aphrodisiac between Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy in this 100 minute-long conversation through Vienna.

From train to city centre and back again, we see two people out of their element explore with a wide-eyed wonder that speaks to their wanderlust-and their ultimate lust for each other.

The Test of a Relationship: Two Days in Paris

For those of us who have traveled with significant others to results less than fairytale-like, the story is immediately familiar.

An un-romanticized (though no less tempting) backdrop of Paris fuels the wanderlust and while the end is not necessarily a ride off into the sunset, it’s easily the most realistic cinematic take on couples’ travel.

The Reason to Start Sniffing Glue: Airplane!

“Joey, do you like movies about gladiators?” “Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit amphetamines.”

“Oh, stewardess! I speak jive.”

This is either the movie that makes you never want to set foot on a plane again, or get to the nearest airport immediately.

A spoof on the then-popular airplane disaster movies, ex-Navy pilot Ted follows his stewardess ex onto a plane to win her back and-several dozen infamous quotes later-saves the plane from certain doom.

The Satire: Sullivan’s Travels

That Sullivan’s Travels was made so close to the end of the Great Depression speaks to the true Swiftian satire of writer/director Preston Sturges.

While Sullivan is good at his job of making light, comedic films, what he really wants to do is direct an expose of the social problems plaguing the United States (titled O Brother, Where Art Thou?)

What he eventually learns, after going from riches to rags in an attempt to understand the common man is that the country needs comedies to forget about its social problems.

The Odyssey: O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Before they won the Oscar for No Country for Old Men, the Coen Brothers were nodding to Sullivan’s Travels with 2000’s O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Based on the Odyssey of Homer (which these two claim to not have read prior to making this movie) and A Dozen Tough Jobs by Howard Waldrop, O Brother follows George Clooney, Tim Blake Nelson, and John Turturro through Depression-era Mississippi to break up Clooney’s ex-wife’s wedding.

Modern-day lotus eaters, sirens, Hades, and a Cyclops make cameos.

The Road Trip: Flirting With Disaster

If O Brother, Where Art Thou? was the story of Odysseus, then Flirting With Disaster is the story of Telemachus.

Ten years before the Hoovers trekked in a run-down VW to the Little Miss Sunshine pageant, Ben Stiller and Patricia Arquette cross the United States with their incompetent adoption agent (Tea Leoni) and four-month old son to find Stiller’s birth parents.

The Social Commentary: Borat – Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan

Sometimes it takes an outsider’s perspective to really teach you about your home country.

Borat was one of those characters who gave we Americans some much-needed edification. An ice-cream truck is a great way to cross the country (and, failing that, a busload of evangelists will do the trick).

A bear may kill your wife, but it’s still great protection against the Jews. Every mortgage brokers’ convention should be interrupted by two men in a naked brawl. And you can always find enlightenment in an RV full of frat boys (not).

The Great Cardio Workout: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Its final installment may have won the Oscar, but we can’t help but agree with the Clerks II assessment of the trilogy: a lot of walking, more walking, dropping a ring in a volcano, and walking back. Still, like Star Wars, this is a pretty epic trek that is all about the journey.

That the film revitalized New Zealand tourism doesn’t hurt, either.

The Totally Bogus Time Bend: Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure

Alex Winter and a young Keanu Reeves.

Whoa! Not only do Bill S. Preston Esq. and Ted Theodore Logan travel as far back as the 400s BC, they hit up Austria, Germany, Greece, Mongolia, France, Antebellum D.C., and the Wild West.

But perhaps the real travel here is their band of historical figures-everyone from Beethoven to Freud to Genghis Khan to Joan of Arc-coming to terms with life in the late 80s at the San Dimas Mall.

And let’s not forget Napoleon having a field day on the slides at Waterloo Water Park. Most excellent.

The Family Vacation: The Darjeeling Limited

We can always count on Wes Anderson to make us feel better about our own family quirks and his most recent installment, 2007’s The Darjeeling Limited, is no exception.

With a soundtrack almost entirely dedicated to Merchant Ivory and Bollywood film scores and an ode to train travel not seen since Paul Theroux, this may also be one of his most visually appealing films.

The Road to Hell: In Bruges

“Maybe that’s what hell is,” Colin Farrell muses in one of his ubiquitous voice-overs in this recent cinematic gem: “an entire eternity spent in Bruges.”

As Farrell and his cohort (Brendan Gleeson) hide out in an unsuspecting Belgian town while recovering from a botched hit-job, we see various shades of hell.

There is the resounding guilt that Farrell goes through. There’s the life of a dwarf actor addicted to amphetamines and zingy one-liners. There’s the elephantine tourists.

And then there’s the silver lining thanks to Martin McDonagh’s wickedly dark comic talent-and gorgeous shots of Belgium’s answer to Venice.

The Business Trip: M*A*S*H

Attention, attention: this next film will be M*A*S*H. The film that launched a thousand (fine, 251) television episodes, puts the audience in the passenger’s seat (of a stolen Jeep, naturally) to the journey of three civilian doctors drafted into the Korean War.

Much more than a typical “war is hell” flick, M*A*S*H is a series of episodes depicting ordinary people dealing with the distance from home-and sanity-as best they can.

The Fish Out of Water: Lost in Translation

Bill Murray is the tallest man in the elevator. He has to crouch to use the shower head. His translator takes a good five-second monologue and siphons it down to one, brief “No.”

He meets a match in Scarlett Johanssen and we get a poetic, atmospherically-charged tour of Tokyo under the same steady directorial hand that would take us through Versailles a few years later. Though Versailles has nothing on robots, Japanese game show hosts, or Suntory whiskey.

The Survivors: Deliverance

We don’t know what’s more iconic: the “squeal like a pig” scene, the prominence of Burt Reynolds’s moustache, or the dueling banjos with which this film will-in a knee-jerk reaction-always be associated.

Perhaps it’s Deliverance in and of itself. Losing the Oscar to The Godfather, John Boorman’s masterpiece speaks to the concerns of diminishing wildlife, the dangers of the southern U.S. backwoods, and why four city slickers in a canoe makes for a good survival story.

The Avengers: Munich

In the wake of the massacre at the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich, Eric Bana and his compatriots are sent out to seek vengeance on the members of Black September.

As attack groups and counter-attack groups chase each other around the globe, a new, ironic diaspora from one of the most fought-over pieces of land rises from the metaphoric rubble.

The Imperialist: Lawrence of Arabia

When asked why he didn’t win the Oscar the year he was nominated for playing this multiple award-winning film’s title character, Peter O’Toole simply said “They gave it to somebody else.”

Yet even though he didn’t take home the statue, the history books will remember the extraordinarily complex figure of T.E. Lawrence, and his cinematic double of O’Toole.

From imperialist to hero, Lawrence has been called many things, and his benefit to both Northern Africa and Great Britain is still largely questioned, reminding us that even the most seemingly selfish of travelers possess their own complexities.

Something to think about the next time someone tries to steal your window seat.

The Chase: North By Northwest

It’s not a travel movie roundup until we see Cary Grant being chased down by a crop-dusting plane. One of the best fugitive/spy flicks from the master of suspense is also the best film to showcase Mount Rushmore (sorry, National Treasure 2).

Maybe it’s due to the part where Eva Marie Saint is dangling precariously from its edge, but more likely it’s the part where Cary Grant dryly says “I don’t like the way Teddy Roosevelt is looking at me.”

We thought Teddy was giving us the stink-eye, too.

The Mid-Life Crisis: 10

You know, it’s really unfair to pit Julie Andrews against Bo Derek. One’s Mary Poppins-slash-Maria von Trapp. The other is a corn rowed blonde who has a thing for hooking up to Ravel’s “Bolero” (something to think about putting onto your iPod before you reach the hostel).

Nevertheless, what better cure for Dudley Moore’s midlife crisis than to ditch the former and follow the latter on her honeymoon to Mexico?

Not only did this film show us how travel can be a great escape from the plagues of the real world, it showed us that Bo was an actress to watch, and that Dudley Moore’s career was nowhere near finished.

These are our picks, but any glue-sniffing pilot will agree that movie choices are deeply personal.

So tell us: what would you add to the list of movies that stoke our travel-lust?

More recently he has become a sort of Indiana Jones for the Gen-X set (his current book is on the search for Jesus Christ’s foreskin which, up until 1983, was allegedly preserved in the Italian hill-town of Calcata).

While Farley’s website is a voyeur’s dream (it holds most of his articles for your reading enjoyment), it still begs enough questions to last a keg of Pilsner Urquell. Recently, we were able to ask David a few of those questions (sadly minus the beer).

BNT: So, how goes the quest for the Holy Foreskin?

I’m trying to remain mum about it until the book comes out in Spring 2009, which isn’t easy because I love talking about Jesus’ foreskin (and, really, who doesn’t?)

But for now I’ll say that the quest for the Holy Foreskin is complete. If you want to take that as an answer to the question of whether or not I actually found the Holy Foreskin, you’re certainly welcome to.

BNT: You didn’t set out to be a writer; what made you take up the written road?

I wish I could say I was one of those kids who had some intrinsic desire to be a writer from an early age-writing books with crayons when I was five years old, and so on-but my childhood fantasies were mostly occupied by rescuing Princess Leia, hitting a game-winning home run in the bottom of the ninth inning at Dodger Stadium and becoming a rock star (in that order, thankfully).

When I lived in Prague, in my mid-20s, I had a lot of unique and bizarre experiences (such as watching a pig get slaughtered in the Czech hinterlands and living with a varnish-sniffing addict whose only English was the lyrics to classic rock songs) and I’d often think: if I were a writer, this would make a great story.

When I did start writing a couple years later, those were some of the first stories I tried to write.

So it turns out, I did have these subconscious desires to write-in my case, about my travel experiences-but it didn’t emerge until I was in my mid-20s or so.

BNT: What hooked you into traveling?

I grew up in a Los Angeles suburb called Simi Valley. Though it was just over the hill from Los Angeles County and the San Fernando Valley, the town of had little by way of “worldliness.”

There were two Chinese restaurants (one of which was called ‘The Chinaman,’ by the way); one bookstore (if you don’t include the two Christian bookstores), and one Japanese restaurant. This was a town of 100,000 people on the periphery of America’s second largest and, perhaps, most culturally diverse city.

I never really fit in with the center-right-wing, mono-cultural aesthetic that seemed to pervade everything in Simi Valley. So, I vowed to flee as soon as possible, which I did. In college I took a trip to Europe with one of my professors and I became enraptured about seeing the rest of the world.

I think because the suburbs were so sterile and so aesthetically redundant, I developed a passion for putting myself in environments that were antipodal to where I grew up. I didn’t know that I wanted to be a travel writer at the time, but this was when I vowed to create a life for myself that involved as much travel and as little routine as possible.

BNT: One of your first travel articles is on eloping in Rome. Was it everything you expected it to be, or did you miss Kool and the Gang and the open bar?

I do love an open bar (as many of my friends will attest) and who doesn’t love Kool and the Gang? But every time I go to a wedding, I think about how glad I am that we took off to Rome to get married. Nothing against the traditional wedding, but there’s just so much pressure and stress.

Eloping to Rome seemed more adventurous and romantic anyway.

BNT: Your arsenal of articles is centered mainly on the Czech Republic (and Italy). With the help of Traveler’s Tales Prague, do you find yourself pigeonholed as The Prague Guy?

“Arsenal of articles.” I like that. One strategy I’ve tried in terms of getting travel assignments has been having a beat-pick a place you know well and focus on it.

Get some pieces published and/or write or edit a collection of travel essays on the place and, in theory, you become an authority. So when you pitch an article on the place, you won’t have to do much convincing that you’re the perfect person to write it.

I had a fair amount of articles on the Czech Republic published before the book came out and in the run up to the book’s publication, I sent out a bunch of article pitches on all things Czech, certain I’d be able to ride the book’s coat tails to a few high-profile assignments. No one bit.

After the book’s release failed to help get me any assignments, I decided that Prague and I needed some space.

BNT: Has Prague lost any of its luster for you with the flood of tourists? What do you think will be the new Prague?

Prague was also flooded with tourists when I lived there in the mid to late ‘90s too, but most of the travelers were European. It was odd how an EU entry suddenly made the place “safe” for the Rick Steves set to venture to the “East.”

Before a few years ago, I think a lot of people had this idea that on the other side of the old Iron Curtain you’d still see people queuing for bread and the toilets would have cardboard for toilet paper.

As for the “new Prague,” it was, is, and always will be the village of New Prague, Minnesota.

BNT: What was it like working with your wife on Traveler’s Tales: Prague? Have you collaborated on anything else since?

Curiously enough, the collaboration didn’t result in many fights. None actually. We agreed unanimously on the stories we thought were the best fit for the book.

We haven’t collaborated on anything since, as we’re both working on our own book projects. When we first met, we came up with this idea of putting together an anthology of stories about getting caught masturbating and calling it Doesn’t Anyone Knock Anymore? (a reference to the “getting caught” scene in Fast Times at Ridgemont High.)

But when we realized that all the stories would be very short-and, in general, quite similar to each other-the project lost some of its excitement.

BNT: How do you find time to work in between traveling? Does splitting your time between Calcata and New York help or hurt matters?

In terms of freelance writing, it’s really the best of both worlds. New York is a great place to be because most of the magazines are based here and you end up meeting a lot of editors and other writers at parties and media events or through friends.

Being in Italy for an extended period of time is beneficial: you’re already there, so a publication doesn’t have to pay for you to fly there and, because you’re there, you appear as an “insider,” thus making you an attractive candidate to get an Italy-based assignment.

Also, if you’re living there, you’re much more in tune with what’s going on, so coming up with good angles for articles is much easier. In terms of being “in between” assignments, I pay the rent by teaching travel writing (at New York University) and working as an editor and a restaurant critic at a foodie site called Gayot.com.

BNT: Even as a travel writer, do you ever feel American Tourist Guilt? Or do you tend to be able to blend in with your surroundings?

People seem to dress a particular way when they’re on vacation. But I think we get a lot more respect if we dress up while on the road. For that reason, I dress the same way when I’m on the road as I do in New York.

Besides that, I don’t want to be pegged as an American since we’re hated around the world more than ever these days. So if not wanting to be recognized right away as American is “American tourist guilt” then I’ve got it.

Whenever I’m in, say, Rome I’m always astounded at how unprepared many Americans are for what they’re seeing. They have little sense of history for what came before 1776 and therefore have a hard time putting things into historical context.

I’m totally generalizing here, but I think we’re a lot less educated on history, culture, arts, and geography than our European counterparts. Just ask Miss Teen South Carolina.

Our education system is an international embarrassment. I didn’t know anything about the outside world when I got out of high school. I think this is one of the reasons why in my own writing, I’m always trying to put things into a historical context, hoping that someone will read something I write and be both entertained and enlightened by it.

BNT: How do you feel about the digital age-and the plethora of online travel magazines-and its impact (or lack thereof) on the traditional print journalism?

I think the growing popularity of online travel magazines is great. They’re starting to get more and more respect.

It’s really, really hard to break in to the print travel mags, which mostly have a strong emphasis on service-oriented articles.

Most people get into travel writing for

• 1) the romantic lure of jetting off somewhere to write about it, and
• 2) to write more personal travel essay-type pieces. The online travel mags allow writers to have more of a literary bent without having to appease advertisers.

WorldHum, PerceptiveTravel, and, of course, Brave New Traveler are just a few of the many travel websites that are leading the way.

BNT: Finally (and the most important question), care to elaborate on your amazing dancing skills? Is an interpretive foreskin ballet on the horizon?

You’ll have to come out to New York and see for yourself. Tim Patterson-your Brave New Traveler colleague and a great writer and all around super guy-recently made me the poster boy for “The Walking Party” type of travel writer.

So I’ve got a lot to live up to.

For more David Farley, visit his website.

Olivia Giovetti has lived in and explored the better part of Europe on a bohemian budget. Freelance travel writing seemed like the next obvious step and her publishers include EuroCheapo, Paper Magazine, and Classic FM. A former New Yorker, she now lives in Los Angeles.

Mark Smith – the man in seat 61

If you happen to be traveling from London on Eurostar and poke your head into first class, you’ll probably see Mark Smith in Seat 61.

Since ditching the plane is the easiest way to reduce your carbon footprint, we caught up with Mark Smith recently in between trips to get his thoughts on slow travel, free-cycling furniture, and one infamous bottle of vodka.

BNT: What’s your primary draw towards trains and ferries as a means of travel? Is it economics or are you just aviophobic?

MS: Trains and ferries allow you to see and experience where you’re going, making the journey part of your holiday.

They treat you like a human being, with space to move around, a bed to sleep in at night, and even a restaurant for your meals in some cases.

Flying has been described as “infantalising,” having to sit down and do what you’re told. On trains and ships you’re generally treated like an adult. For example, you’re over 18, so you can bring your own bottle of wine if you like. Try doing that on a RyanAir flight!

BNT: Like the slow food movement, people have begun to talk about slow travel, something that trains and other forms of ground/sea transportation dovetail into nicely. What are your thoughts on slow travel?

MS: I’m not sure I’d call 186mph “slow.” Indeed people are often surprised that you can leave London by train at 3:00 pm and be in Barcelona at 8:30 next morning, or depart London at 2:00 pm and arrive in Venice at 9:40 the next morning.

But if I’m sometimes uncomfortable with the “slow travel” terminology, the concept behind it is sound. We’re in danger of creating a world in which every journey is an identical non-experience at 30,000 feet. Flying has lost its glamor, and I think it’s time we put the interest, excitement and romance back into travel.

What could be more romantic than reaching Spain by sleeping-car or Norway by liner?

BNT: Why Seat 61?

MS: I took to asking for seat 61 (in cars 7, 8 or 11) whenever I treated myself to Eurostar first class. I’ve left London in seat 61 bound for Morocco, Tunisia, the Crimea, and even Tokyo via Moscow and Vladivostok.

So when I started a website “The Man in Seat Sixty-One” seemed the ideal name.

BNT: Do you live green in other aspects of your life/routine?

MS: We’re just an ordinary family trying to be more considerate towards the environment.

Our 20 month old son wears real cloth nappies or biodegradable disposable ones. We’ve equipped the house with low-energy light bulbs, we recycle what we can, we “freecycle” furniture and the like if and when we replace it, and use products such as Ecover washing up liquid and washing machine detergent.

BNT: How many people have you helped find ways to travel by train and ferry? Do you have any memorable experiences from “meeting” people via your website?

MS: The site now gets around 400,000 visitors a month and the e-mails keep me busy! I love e-mails such as that from a man whose Polish wife wouldn’t fly and thought she therefore couldn’t visit her family. Thanks to seat61.com, her husband booked train tickets from London to Poland and off they went.

BNT: What first made you want to travel? Is it safe to say you’ve read a lot of Paul Theroux?

MS: I’ve read Paul Theroux, but also T.E. Lawrence (of Arabia fame), Wilfred Thesiger, Fitzroy MacLean. Each writer is very different, but all evoke an image of the countries they write about which makes me want to go there.

BNT: What’s your favorite train experience? Least favorite?

MS: I’d argue that any experience, even one that at first impression is unpleasant, is better than having no experience at all.

Indeed, sometimes unpleasant experiences give rise to our fondest memories, or best travel stories.

Such as traveling on the filthiest and most decrepit slow train from Aswan to Luxor, but meeting a series of Egyptian locals en route-from schoolchildren who asked me to read out their English schoolbooks to a young man who worked on the Nile cruise boats whose opening line was “I like Whiskey. You like whiskey?”

And my best train experience? Well, that would have to be traveling to Italy aboard the superb Venice Simplon Orient Express and accidentally getting engaged to my now wife somewhere in the Brenner Pass!

BNT: What’s the most outrageous/memorable thing you’ve seen (train and/or ferry) that you’d never see on a plane?

Customs official at the Ukraine/Polish border dismantling my sleeping-car and finding a complete off-license of illicit Vodka in the paneling three feet above my head (not mine, I hasten to add!)

Watching a younger pupil shout “Solidarity! Solidarity!” out of a train window on a school trip; not usually controversial, but the year was 1982, the train was the Moscow Express, and the station was Warsaw Centralna! I’ve never seen a Russian train conductress go so berserk…

The full list would be too long!

To read more Mark Smith, visit his website The Man in Seat 61.

Olivia Giovetti has lived in and explored the better part of Europe on a bohemian budget. Freelance travel writing seemed like the next obvious step and her publishers include EuroCheapo, Paper Magazine, and Classic FM. A former New Yorker, she now lives in Los Angeles.

What are your thoughts on train travel? Leave a comment below!

Despite its rap as a collection of chic spas for wealthy, guilt-addled liberals who shell out $4,000 to commune with gorillas, green travel isn’t about giving a tour operator a month’s salary for some Disney-like attraction or consumer experience.

Traveling green is about finding and supporting destinations that have seen the light, and are already working to green-up their tourist offerings.

Seeking out green places to travel isn’t all that hard. Even New York City offers the possibility of an ecologically responsible vacation. Many travelers can get to New York by train, removing the need for a high-impact airplane ride. A tiny hotel room in SoHo uses less electricity than a deluxe suite in Aspen.

Plus, New York is a city built for walking, with solid public transport to boot. Time Out recently named New York the perfect place to “be green without doing crap.”

Here are 5 more eco-friendly destinations to put on your travel radar:

Mjølfjell, Norway

Norway is so eco-conscious it balks when a marketer calls a Prius or Tesla green.

While other European countries have aimed to cut their carbon emissions by 20% by 2020, Norway has upped the ante to 30%. Norway is also helping China come up with ways to combat climate change.

Get out of Oslo and head into the mountains and you’ll see a lot of sustainable housing, including the Mjolfjell Inn and Youth Hostel .

A destination in and of itself, the inn offers the standard outdoor fare (skiing, horseback riding, even a wildlife survival course) and also produces its own electricity.

Not bad for the world’s #5 oil exporter.

Luang Prabang, Laos

The Lao People’s Democratic Republic has made it their mission to bring this Southeast Asian country (which is landlocked by Myanmar, China, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand) to the forefront of tourism. It’s working – Laos was #1 on the New York Times’ list of places to go in 2008.

However, the Lao government is aiming to increase tourism sustainably so as to protect their native wildlife, lush land and clean rivers, and preserve their two UNESCO World Heritage Sites: the Ancient City of Luang Prabang and pre-Angkorian Vat Phou Temple Complex. Another Heritage Site-to-be is the Plain of Jars in the highlands of north-central Laos.

The Lao National Tourism Administration has a dozen award-winning eco-tourism projects currently in development, spreading country wide to encourage smaller provinces to set up sustainable tourism, help protect over-exposed areas, and begin programs such as homestays, eco-treks, and local art exhibitions.

What’s Lao for “rocking it?”

Belize City, Belize

Home to the longest barrier reef in the Western Hemisphere, Belize is deeply committed to eco-tourism. Offshore, Belize boasts a number of cayes, some of which have been turned into eco-resorts, but others that remain pristine homes for birds, lizards and marine life.

Whale watching is a popular attraction here, as is mountain biking, horseback riding, and cave tubing. Go outside of the sandy city into the Mountain Pine Ridge Area and Maya Mountains, which have amazingly-preserved Mayan ruins. You’ll also find plenty of local artists and artisans to support in town.

While the Caribbean and Latin America are full of eco-tours and spas, you can also appreciate their beauty and natural preservation by traveling independently. Be sure to check out the preservations in Tobago (Trinidad’s less commercialized sister), the diverse terrain of Guadeloupe, and the stunning rainforests of Costa Rica.

Zurich, Switzerland

Voted the city with the highest quality of life in the world, Zurich was also recently ranked by Forbes as number 8 on their list of Top 10 Cleanest Cities.

The city’s public transportation works like clockwork (no pun intended) to the point where very few residents own cars. There is also a large local foods industry, including cheeses that will make your deli’s Swiss cheese taste like plastic.

The world’s first four chocolate makers were also all Swiss, so you can take comfort in knowing you’re supporting local growers with those truffles and hot chocolates.

I single out Zurich here, but the rest of Switzerland is great for those who want to reduce their carbon footprint while still traveling Europe. Not only do you get the Alps and clean living, you can explore areas heavily influenced by the Germans, French, and Italians.

Thenmala, India

Surprised?

Even though India has some of the most polluted cities in the world, there are some areas that are working to green their environment. While other regions try to slap an “eco-tourism” label on what is really just nature tourism (”Over there is a rare flower,” “Look up there at the tree,” “Check out the elephant,” and back on the bus), Thenmala is taking green travel to heart.

The local Thenmala government, tourism office, and irrigation department are teaming up with residents to to make green tourism a coordinated effort. The best part? You’ll not only get to visit the Shenduruney Wildlife Sanctuary (part rainforest, part deciduous forest), but the tour guides are local youths who are trained in sustainable tourism. Now that’s something to feel good about.

Of course, there’s more than just this Fab Five. In fact, you can find plenty of eco-friendly destinations (from the transportation to lodgings to the cocktail hour) on every continent.

Check out the green guide series at the the traveler’s notebook for more cool destination ideas!

This is the second of a three-part piece on Green Travel for Brave New Traveler; now that you have the basics, take the next steps: travel to eco-friendly locales, and give some more thought to making the jump from air travel to rail and sea travel.

Leaf photo by Ryan Libre. Check out Ryan’s new photo essay, China Mobile.

Can international travel ever really be low-impact? Your thoughts are important. Leave a comment below!

Olivia Giovetti has lived in and explored the better part of Europe on a bohemian budget. Freelance travel writing seemed like the next obvious step and her publishers include EuroCheapo, Paper Magazine, and Classic FM. A former New Yorker, she now lives in Los Angeles.

You may even have switched to energy-saving fluorescent bulbs, started buying local from farmer’s markets, and are an iTunes devotee (not because of the instant gratification, but to reduce plastic consumption).

Whether you’re charging chartreuse or just green-curious, there’s no excuse to NOT think eco-consciously nowadays.

Even with only 4% of plastic bottles actually making it to the recycling bin, there is more being done today to help the environment than hybrid cars and solar energy. And even if you’re not Al Gore, you can still go green for low green, travel being no exception.

That includes you backpackers and families, regardless of whether it’s a day trip to Mount Rushmore or a month going around Southeast Asia. Here are some seedlings for environmental change:

Before you leave, unplug all of your electrics.

Even if they’re off, they can still run 40 kWh of electricity per hour while plugged in. And if everything’s unplugged, you won’t have that nagging fear that the coffee pot was left on or that the iron is going to burn down your building.

Go ticketless when booking your trip.

Companies such as Orbitz will send confirmations to your mobile phone on request, and Google Maps can now go from your web browser to SMS. It also frees you from the hassle of having to keep all of your papers organized. After all, if you’re traveling to escape the cubicle, why would you want to travel with printouts and manila folders anyway?

Offset Your Exhaust

Unless you own Boeing, there’s not much you can do about the carbon emissions that it’ll take for you to get from JFK to Heathrow. However, if you’re going to be hopping around on one continent, consider the more local forms of transportation.

Check out Mark Smith’s “The Man in Seat 61” to fuel your wanderlust with images of the Trans-Siberian Railroad coasting across a tundra full of history, an aura more full of its country than any Airbus, and with much better views than the tops of clouds. Or, go see The Darjeeling Limited; snakes on a train completely trumps snakes on a plane.

Fun Fact: In a new high for air travel, the EU recently announced that as of 2011, airplane emissions will be regulated in the European Union. Airplanes will be required to reduce their carbon emissions by purchasing additional credits or investing in international climate protection projects. This is part of the EU’s big picture plan to reduce its total greenhouse gas emissions by 20% by the year 2020, so soon you’ll be able to hop on RyanAir or EasyJet with less guilt.

Man Power or Mass Transit?

In general, travel like the locals: you’ll not only save a bit by eschewing cab services, you’ll also get to see the lifelines of a city. Use it as an opportunity to get off at a stop you otherwise would never have considered, see if any of your rudimentary French is still kicking, or take in the unparalleled beauty of some cities’ metro stations (Moscow, for starters).

And there’s nothing like some recreational voyeurism while on the U-Bahn or the tram. Even better, take advantage of bicycle-friendly cities. Vienna holds an annual Bike Festival; earlier in the year Paris set up a city-wide initiative that has brought 10,000 new cycles into the arrondisements for dirt-cheap rental (both short and long-term); and Beijing is best viewed from a set of handlebars.

If you long for the thrill of an organized tour, check out walking tours offered (who really wants to go all the way to Munich just to sit on a bus?) Sandeman’s New Europe tours have begun to take over much of the continent and, best of all, are free.

Eat On The Block

If you eat local at home, eat local abroad as well. Some of the best meals on the fly can be found at farmer’s markets (I still dream of a pulled pork sandwich I had in Spoleto, where everything came from a farm not ten miles away).

If you can grab your drinks in glass bottles (or, better yet, a reusable bottle), so much the better: glass can ultimately be recycled, though plastics are for the most part downcycled. I don’t have to tell you at this point to recycle while traveling, either.

Leave the Cheap Souvenirs

Your digital camera is your friend. It will give you some of the best souvenirs of any trip and, unlike that dubious gypsy lady hanging out on the Charles Bridge, won’t try to lift your wallet while selling you a rose or an artist’s portrait of Angelina Jolie.

If you really want that Machu Piccu T-shirt, then all the more power to you. However, if you’re just in the heat of the moment, step away, take some pictures, and enjoy yourself even more.

If you do want to bring home some goods from abroad, check out the local art scene for the region you’re visiting and bring home something from a local artist. You’ll be supporting their livelihood and, as a bonus, will leave with the satisfaction that you didn’t fall for a tourist trap.

Most of the things you can do to reduce the tourism footprint are things that you can do in general to help sustain the environment. It’s easy to take a vacation from real life when you’re exploring some place new (especially if no one speaks your native tongue), but green is an increasingly universal language.

This is the first of a three-part piece on Green Travel for Brave New Traveler; now that you have the basics, take the next steps: travel to eco-friendly locales, and give some more thought to making the jump from air travel to rail and sea travel.

Olivia Giovetti has lived in and explored the better part of Europe on a bohemian budget. Freelance travel writing seemed like the next obvious step and her publishers include EuroCheapo, Paper Magazine, and Classic FM. A former New Yorker, she now lives in Los Angeles.

But she will go just about anywhere else-especially if someone else is footing the bill.

Finances, however, are not a deterrent to the budget traveler with an eye for adventure and a knack for comedy-intentional or otherwise.

Ayun’s 2003 collection of essays, No Touch Monkey! illustrates some comic moments, whether it’s re-enacting Apocalypse Now in a drug-induced stupor in Vietnam, reclaiming her shoes from a gang of monkeys in India, or being at the mercy of a Madam in Amsterdam’s Red Light district.

More recently, Ayun completed a five-week trip with her husband (playwright Greg Kotis) and two children (daughter India and son Milo) through the former Yugoslavia, as detailed at http://whogoslavia.blogspot.com.

We caught up between trips to talk about travel, kids, and a certain Francis Ford Coppola movie.

BNT: Did you travel very much growing up?

AH: I vacationed in places where my parents had friends or family connections: Columbus, Cincinnati, Tucson, one of the Apostle Islands in Lake Superior. And I logged a lot of time lolling seatbelt-less against the front passenger door in my grandparent’s Buick-two full days of driving from Indiana to Florida, another two days to get back.

Now that I think about it, my paternal grandmother is the one who probably got the ball rolling. She moved from the Midwest to Arizona, and a visit to her usually included a day trip across the border into Nogales, Mexico, which I loved.

Nogales was my first taste of the colorful, the cacophonous, the non-sterile…unless, of course, one counts the midway of the Indiana State Fair. I also found it compelling that certain things could be procured more cheaply than at home.

My dad bought knock-offs of all his favorite liquors, which then broke in our luggage, ruining my dotted Swiss dress and reducing my mother to tears.

What were your influences for traveling in your adult years (and how did you afford each trip)?

The first time was because I’d been cast in a production that was going to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

In retrospect, the production was a bit of a scam that allowed the producers to fly to Edinburgh, and live there for the entire summer, without having to spend a nickel of their own money. Pretty much everybody who auditioned was cast, and then it was up to us to ante up a flat fee to cover housing and other expenses – a detail my father finds much joy in dredging up whenever possible.

My European debut was financed by years of squirreled away birthday, Christmas and graduation money, which left just enough for a Eurorail pass, and a couple of picnics.
Every successive trip was financed by waiting tables, and not, as some Amazon customer reviewers have erroneously suggested by “Mommy and Daddy’s money.”

Lest I gain the enmity of trust fund babies everywhere, permit me to state that as a parent myself, I’d love nothing better than to lob some cash my kids’ way if it would help them to see the world. I’d much rather do that than buy them a Sony Playstation.

As far as choosing my destinations, someone would put the bug in my ear about some country I’d never really considered, and then I’d read up on it, and look at photos, and spend a lot of time thinking about how wonderful my life would be if I could only get to Rwanda/Thailand/Vietnam…

Since No Touch Monkey was published, it’s been my great good fortune to have some travel experiences underwritten by various producers who are mounting my husband’s plays.

I’ve scored free trips to San Francisco, Tokyo, and Berlin-thanks in part to Greg’s willingness to cash in one business class ticket for two in coach, and my mother’s enthusiasm for spending time around her grandchildren without me hanging around, bitching about doughnuts and TV.

Your first essay in No Touch Monkey! details traveling with your then-boyfriend on the cheap (and the breakdown that ensued). Was it that bad?

I’ve always enjoyed comic stories that really plumb the depths of self-inflicted misery, which I suppose makes me a bit of a liability to know. Poor “Nate.” That chapter covers 24 debauched, combat-filled hours of a trip that lasted six weeks.

We had our share of good moments, as he pointed out when a mutual friend tipped him off to the book’s existence, and his role in it.

You’ve slept on boats in Amsterdam and trains from Salzburg to Munich (thanks to a Eurorail pass). Where’s the oddest place you’ve slept?

In a leaf pile in a public park in Sintra, Portugal. I was awakened at dawn by the sound of a mulcher.

As a member of the fairer sex, what have been some of your biggest challenges when traveling?

Navigating the foggy area between behaving in a friendly, open manner and setting myself up for an opportunistic groping.

Keeping the squabbling and resentment to a minimum with companions of the un-fairer sex.

Bathing suit envy.

Motherhood.

Have you been able to watch Apocalypse Now since traveling in Vietnam?

Of course!

Also Hearts of Darkness, the documentary about the nightmare of filming it. Every time I hear “The End” I think of the ceiling fan in that bar, with the body of a helicopter painted behind its blades.

What was traveling with India and Milo like as opposed to traveling solo or with Greg?

Even in a spontaneous situation like our recent itinerary-free month in the former Yugoslavia, the world is somewhat less of your oyster when kids are along. They get tired, they get bored, their palates are still discouragingly narrow. They have become the primary topic of on-the-road squabbling between me and Greg.

On the plus side, I’ve found that people are particularly friendly when you have kids along: folks who otherwise might have been too shy to start a conversation will start by talking to the kids and then widen the circle to include me and Greg.

Our last night in Serbia, we were in this little bar that we’d gone to because it had a sign in the window that said “Pizza.” After some failed attempts on our part, a local man volunteered to help us explain to the barmaid that the children would balk if she topped the pie with a big puddle of ketchup, as is the local custom.

He was very shy and very sweet, and we had a lovely time for the next few hours, drinking beer and piecing together a conversation about life in Sremski Karlovci, life in New York, and the challenges of parenthood.

Having the kids along puts us on a different, more interesting plane of interaction.

Was that the first major trip with the kids?

No, we’d driven around California a few years back, and I’d taken them to Mexico, but this was the longest trip and it felt like a more full-on adventure, probably because we pulled them out of school to do it.

As seen in your recent book, Dirty Sugar Cookies, you’re also a foodie. What have been some of the more curious, Anthony Bourdain-like things you’ve eaten?

With the exception of some ant eggs and a civet stew in Northern Thailand, most of the curious Anthony Bourdain-like items have been procured in New York City.

I’m always forcing people to try the shrimp paste grilled on sugar cane at the Doyers Restaurant…and now that I’m eating meat again, there’s a whole world of tendons and offal to explore in the outer Boroughs.

Where do you draw the line between travel and tourism?

The older I get, the more I try to remember that there’s more than one way to skin a cat. A lot of factors come into play-some of us have the luxury of time, but not money. Some have money but no time.

Some have physical disabilities, or children, which are a whole physical disability unto themselves, albeit a temporary one. What it really boils down to is: Sense of Humor, Sense of Gratitude and Sense of Wonder.

Those are the qualities to strive for, whether you’re on a ten-day cruise or hitchhiking around the world.

What do you wish you knew about budget travel in the past that you know now?

That it’s a beautiful thing to blow the budget every now and then. That said, you get a lot more bang for your buck in say, Southeast Asia, than you do in Europe, where my shoestring adventures started.

What’s one place you’d go back to in a flash?

Just one place? Okay, I’ll close my eyes and spin the wheel and wind up in Varanasi, India, where I’ll rent a little room in the old town and stay for a couple of months.

Where would you go given the opportunity?

Yaddo! The MacDowell Colony!

Failing that, how about some super chi-chi eco-spa in the middle of some impossible-to-get-to rain forest, where I’d dine on organic food, sleep on 500-thread count sheets, and receive all sorts of traditional, healing massages. I assume that by “given the opportunity,” you mean someone else is footing the bill.

And where do you think you’ll never set foot?

The Moon.

For more Ayun Halliday, visit her website AyunHalliday.com

Olivia Giovetti has lived in and explored the better part of Europe on a bohemian budget. Freelance travel writing seemed like the next obvious step and her publishers include EuroCheapo, Paper Magazine, and Classic FM. A former New Yorker, she now lives in Los Angeles.

Yet today many of his books are devoured by jet-setters and backpackers alike.

Yet Dyer doesn’t label himself as a travel writer-in fact he doesn’t label himself as much of anything.

When he saw his jazz novel, But Beautiful, in the bestsellers section of a bookstore, he asked the manager if it was true: “No, of course not,’ he said. But we didn’t know where else to put it.”

He was more than happy to answer some questions for a fellow ex-expat on writing inspirations (which range from World War I to DH Lawrence), expatriatism, and the values of traveling while under the influence.

BNT: What led you to living extendedly in Paris and Rome specifically? What drew you to these cities?

GD: I went to Paris for a very specific and a very general reason.

Specifically, because I wanted to write a version of Tender is the Night which would be set in Paris. Generally, because it was everything that London was not: small, cafés that stayed open after eleven o’clock etc.

Rome was much simpler: I went on a book tour in Italy and ended up having a romance with the woman who was my interpreter. Essentially, I went to Rome to be with her.

Would you say this leads to your propensity for expatriatism? Do you consider yourself an expat (or ex-expat)?

I am a great creature of habit so being able to establish a routine is very important to me: not just with regard to work but general well-being.

I wish I WAS an ex-pat still but I’m living in London again. I’ve always liked the ex-pat scene. It’s always been a crucial component of Paris life.

You’ve lived in two cities that all but shut down during the summer; was that mere chance, or (as someone who was once labeled the “poet laureate of the slacker generation”) is there something compelling about the summer holiday?

No, it was a mistake. Exactly like Luke in Paris Trance I turned up in Paris to rent this flat not realizing how completely the city would shut down.

It was incredibly depressing and I was extremely lonely and unhappy. Rome was a bit different: for two years running I went there quite early in the year and just stayed on while it emptied out.

I enjoy London in the summer and over Christmas because the rest of the time it is so overcrowded.

Much of Yoga… is devoted to the pursuit of a peak experience or a zone. What would you say your “peak experiences” were in Paris, Rome, and London?

In Paris I always liked walking home after dinners or parties or whatever but the thing about Paris-or at least my Paris-is that it promised so much and that promise was hardly ever fulfilled; except in the fiction that grew out of my time there.

Rome: I had lots of wonderful evenings in the San Calisto or at parties with friends or just wandering round in the amazing light.

London: living in Brixton in the 80s was a sustained peak. That’s when I became myself, I think.

And then, in the late 90s, I’m really pleased that I eventually got into the whole raving/trance scene. It would have been terrible to have missed out on that.

You often mention blurring the line between fiction and nonfiction in your writing. How much of Paris Trance was taken in part from your experiences while living there?

The geography of Paris Trance is exactly the geography that I knew. Luke lives in the places I lived.

As mentioned earlier, the novel was a fulfillment of the immense promise of the city. I sort of had a Serbian girlfriend (as in the book) but she didn’t live in the city and only visited for about two weeks.

And I never had a group of friends in the city in the way that Luke does (possibly because I didn’t have a job either).

Yoga is very closely derived from real life. Little of it is made up but bits of it have been enhanced for literary effect.

For example, I wasn’t living alone as I suggest in the book). It’s about an inch from life-but all the art is in that inch.

One of my favorite parts about your work is the inclusion of details in the cities you visit-the San Calisto in Rome, the Mosque in Paris-that lend a texture to the stories they’re featured in.

Would you say that these are more important to you than the major landmarks of a city?

Oh yes, it’s all about these little details.

But in a city like Rome the major landmarks are also part of the daily texture of life. You know, you’re always passing the Coliseum, etc.

It’s one of the things that makes life there so great.

Where do you see yourself living next?

Hmm, don’t know. I wouldn’t actually want to live there-good god, no!-but half of the book I’m writing at the moment is set in Varanasi, a completely amazing city.

I also went to Hanoi recently and would love to spend longer there. I’d like to think that at some point I’ll live in California. But time is passing and it’s not happening, partly because I have a very nice life here in London.

For more Geoff Dyer, visit here.

If you take three books with you in your carry-on, make them Paris Trance, Out of Sheer Rage, and Yoga for People Who Can’t Be Bothered to Do It, three books to inspire a delayed return.

Olivia Giovetti has lived in and explored the better part of Europe on a bohemian budget. Freelance travel writing seemed like the next obvious step and her publishers include EuroCheapo, Paper Magazine, and Classic FM. A former New Yorker, she now lives in Los Angeles.