2009 World Traveler Internship
Follow interns Chris Danner & Lindsay Clark this summer

09.30.09

10 New Things I Did During the World Traveler Internship

I have an awful memory, which is why I spend half my days scribbling notes and lists in order to actually remember things.

And as my mind sifts through the chaos of this summer, sometimes all I can remember is, whoa - that was wild and nothing else! Therefore, I made a list of things I did over the World Traveler Internship that were either new or incredibly exciting for this absent-minded, globe-lovin gal.

1. Drank kava in the Fijian Highlands in a special ceremony sat in by 20+ people just for me, fit with singing and schoolyard games
2. Tandem skydived from 10,000 feet
3. Dove in a cage surrounded by great white sharks
4. Visited a new continent: Australia
5. Dune bashed in the desert
6. Laid eyes on Mt. Kilimanjaro and flew next to her
7. Volunteered at a township in South Africa
8. Belly danced with an actual belly dancer
9. Came within ten feet of a male lion
10. Hiked Table Mountain from bottom to top

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Lindsay Clark

09.29.09

My World Adventure (WTI)

I never really know how my travel experiences have affected me until I return to my starting point: home. Flying through various destinations and worrying about logistics sometimes takes away the mind’s energy to process what it’s witnessed until it’s back on familiar soil. And since each trip is different, every time I return home, it’s a brand new feeling, a new form of culture shock I can never predict.

Coming home from Italy, I felt pissed off at my hometown for not being as historical and visually stimulating as Florence. After Semester at Sea, it pained me to be away from the people I grew very close to on board. And with the conclusion of my Big Journey, I think I felt more stable and purpose-driven, albeit more confused, than any previous homecoming led me to feel. I think it all depends on the nature of the journey and where you are in your personal path with self-awareness. Because that’s one major reason I travel: to become more self-aware.

And now with the winding down of the World Traveler Internship, I have a whole new set of emotions and passions driving me. For once, I’ve welcomed the comforts of home excitedly. Man did I love sitting around! And for the last month, I’ve spent about 90 hours a week working on my Web site, on personal projects and anything fathomable to get me on the path towards being a freelance travel writer. It was the World Traveler Intern program that assured me I love being thrown into a new country with a mission of documentation. I’ve learned how I love to travel, where I want to travel and how to deal with the rigors of this oddball, unconventional, thrilling profession.

Anyone with a smidgeon of wanderlust would adore being a World Traveler Intern, but I can promise you an aspiring travel writer, photojournalist, basically anyone wanting to experience and express as a career will be numbed by how cool it is to have this job. Throughout the trip, I sporadically stopped and smiled, so appreciative of the opportunity and fully aware of how lucky I was. And now I look forward to seeing what lucky souls will receive the honor next year. I’m certain they will have the time of their lives and return to their home bases more alive and wanderlust-ful, because as any traveler knows, that obsession never goes away. Travel begets more travel.

And now I apply the heaviest of connotations, the deepest of meaning to these next two words, directed at the lovely people at STA Travel: Thank you.

You can continue to follow Lindsay's travels over at her Web site - Nomadderwhere.com.

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Lindsay Clark

09.28.09

What I Learned in Scotland (WTI)

Really quickly, think of how cool Sean Connery is…yeah, Sean Connery. That’s how cool Scotland is. While Scotland doesn’t exactly have the best weather in the world, the light rain and overcast sky hanging over lush green pastures and rolling hills gives the entire landscape a comforting, even homey feel. The entire country welcomes you into it. And maybe it’s just me, but any country with castles makes me feel like I can run around with a sword and rescue princesses from towers (every little boy’s dream).

The myths, legends, and history of the Scottish highlands creep out of every stream and jump out at you form behind every rock. After a week of learning about the culture and history of the Highlands, here’s what I’ve learned:

- The Loch Ness Monster, Nessie, most definitely exists. There is no way for me to convince you in this blog, but if you take the tour of the Loch with a true believer, YOU WILL BELIEVE.

- Also, sadly Braveheart did not do the best of job at capturing William Wallace’s life and Robert the Bruce was awesome and not as backstabbing as the movie made him out to be. The true story of Wallace, in fact, is even more baddass. The dude was one bloodthirsty psychopath…his sword’s sheath was made from human skin.

- The Scottish really do not like the British. There’s some bad blood in that department and most Scots are more than ready to tell you all about it.

- Finally, there’s Scotch everywhere, and it is glorious. The smooth, smokiness of Scotch must be among the best tastes in the world and it is impossible to make it around Scotland without having more than a healthy dose of the heavenly stuff.

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Chris Danner

09.25.09

Visiting the Fringe Festival (WTI)

The biggest and best surprise of the entire trip came in Edinburgh. We arrived at the beginning of an event that I am definitely returning to next August. The Fringe.

The Fringe Festival is the world’s largest art festival...by a long shot. And this is art in the best and most diverse sense of the world. There are hundreds of visual art shows, plays, comedy shows, musical performances, and lectures as well as being the world’s best convention of street performers.

There are solo-dramatic performances, hilarious stand-up shows, even classes on burlesque (I didn’t make it to that one, though). For a little cred you might respect, Flight of the Conchords was discovered there and Rhys Darby (Murray, the manager, from the show) performed this year.

Parts of the city are transformed into massive hubs for the festival, town squares are converted in beer gardens with astro-turf and large alley ways branch off into venues and bars. The nightlife stays open till 5 a.m. during the Fringe and since the first shows start at 8 a.m. and the last shows start at 3 a.m., you could theoretically experience the Fringe for almost 24 hours a day.

The venues are small and the prices are totally reasonable too, I saw four shows (all amazing) in places with no more than fifty people and didn’t pay more than 10 pounds a ticket. If you get a pass for the Fringe you can see all the shows you want for 5 pounds each. It was an exhilarating start to my time in Scotland. The motto for our Haggis tour was “Wild & Sexy” and the Fringe was just that. I have to go back and do the Fringe for a full week next year

Photo Credit: www.theedinburghblog.co .uk on Flickr

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Chris Danner

09.23.09

Mykonos (WTI)

Mykonos. Just say the word and heart-pounding dance music should begin to pump through your system.

I’m not really religious, but I would wager that God created Mykonos as a reward for humanity doing something really awesome, like inventing democracy. This island is an international icon of hedonism, beauty and the best damn time of your life.

You will never find yourself asking “where’s the party?” because the party is all around you. And it doesn’t stop. If you’re like me and whole-heartedly believe that clubs that close their doors at 2 a.m. might as well be called retirement homes, than Mykonos is probably the place for you. Most clubs don’t close till 6 a.m., some open at midnight and keep going till 11 a.m. or whenever the last reveler dances out the door.

It makes Vegas look like a vacation with your parents and it makes Cancun look like a high school party.

The world’s most beautiful and professional partiers (yes, that is a profession in my book) descend upon Mykonos from every nook and cranny of the earth to party all-night and tan on breathtaking beaches all day. It is an exhausting cycle that few could keep going for more than a week. Mykonos is a gauntlet, thrown down by Dionysus, to challenge those who have no time for the saying carpe diem, but rather live by the opposite, carpe noctum.

So why sleep when you can live in a dream? Amen.

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Chris Danner

09.22.09

Volunteering in South Africa (WTI)

As much as I love the idea of picking vacation spots based on beaches and the cheapness of beer, it gets old…fast.If you love to travel and are looking for something more unique to do with your free time, look into volunteering. From your own backyard to every corner of the globe there are programs that invite you to help out.

Think of what you would like to do. Be it teaching English, conserving the environment, coaching sports, building schools, playing with kids - whatever - there are opportunities to do what you love, make a difference and explore the coolest places on earth.

Some programs are just a week long, others can go on for months if you find yourself loving it, and you will if you give it a shot.

In South Africa, Lindsay and I met up with a group of about thirty girls (reason enough for me to return but that’s besides the point) who were all volunteering on a variety of projects in and around Cape Town.  Everyone was able to choose which project fit them best and at the end of the day they all returned to a communal house that was as cool as any backpacker hangout I’ve seen anywhere in the world.You get to meet travelers from around the world who have been brought together with a common purpose of trying to make one little part of the world a bit better.

Lindsay and I agree that some of our best travels have been when we volunteered in foreign countries and both of us will always be looking to do more of it. It’s an amazing experience and I promise you will have as good of a time helping out than you would have had pounding Coronas and getting sunburned in Cabo.

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Chris Danner

09.11.09

What to Expect in Dublin (WTI)

Some Irishmen say Dublin is not a city that reflects the true Irish mentality. "I've lived there for years before, but it's never been a home to me," said one of the Irish ladies I met on the internship. It definitely has its touristy areas that overcharge and manufacture "authenticity," and these areas can become smokescreens for the actual intimate experience the traveler seeks. I anticipated not liking Dublin for its prices and supposed lack of charm. However, Dublin did not rub the the wrong way at all.

The capital seems to have a lot going for itself. Theaters dot the city and definitely don't go unnoticed. The local free newspaper details cultural events ranging from free music and graffiti festivals outside to basement techno parties. And Dublin appears to attract a large amount of travelers who immediately take on the Irish personable nature upon getting to the little green island.

We arrived in Dublin early in the morning and quickly got to work on Intern responsibilities and pressing health issues (Chris had a cough that just wasn't sounding too pretty). I sat in our hostel's common room with my laptop open, firing digital data into the universe.

Within the first hour, I met two very interesting people without even trying. Sharing my power cord with a Canadian high school grad led to her recounting why she decided to take a year off to work and live in Ireland. And when the man nearby overheard me explain the details of the World Traveler Internship, we began chatting. I eventually learned he was a fellow American on an round-the-world trip of his own. Both were incredibly willing to show me what they knew about Dublin and the world of travel.

A group of solo travelers and ourselves decided to make a night of it before the tour started in the morning. We ventured to the pub behind the hostel, which squeezed into the empty space between multiple buildings. And it was here that I tried my first pint of Guinness. I took photos. I told the bartender as if it was a monumentous occasion. I took a sip and sensed the microscopic bubbles flow down my trap. Unfortunately I was still a bit under the weather and had no functioning taste buds, but I sensed the surprisingly smooth and creamy texture of the classic Irish stout and said, "Hey, not bad at all."

A night out in Dublin sometimes means a night amongst the streets of the Temple Bar area. This is a place I doubt Dubliners frequent, but it provides a large amount of venues for entertainment and debauchery and, most importantly, Guinness consumption. We found a bar with a band and nestled in a nook with the other French, Canadian, German, and American travelers. This was the first time on the trip traveler intermingling felt so organic.

Sometimes I forgo the opportunity to submerge in the hostel world or traveler niche when traveling because I'd rather be looking for a gallery where I can chat it up with the owner or a pub where the local bartender has time to tell me the good stuff about where I am and who the locals really are. But there's true merit in speaking to the people you brush your teeth next to. We're all out there feeling like we've got a mission to accomplish and it helps to hear about others' successes and mishaps. And sharing perceptions of a place can comfort weary bones or stale minds.

I don't think I met a single Dubliner. Maybe the Irish don't find Dublin home-like because its already packed with travelers and foreign workers. Whoever actually resides in the city though makes it an easy, fun place.

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Lindsay Clark

09.08.09

The Meaning of the Word Craic

"Nice craic"

Why, thank you!

This phrase took me some time to understand. This wasn't a severely misspelled compliment towards my derriere but a charming little catch phrase about good times in Ireland. Having a blast at a pub, cheers-ing to good friends, good Guinness, and swaying to the pipe of a Irish folk musician? That's some darn good craic right there.

I assume most travelers come to Ireland to enjoy the scenery and some good ol' fashioned craic. Our white and green bus shot to the west side of the country, down to the south and around again to Dublin, with every stop centered on the pursuit of lovely views and some lovely good times.

Each time we stopped along the path towards the Atlantic, the more I believed the weather in Ireland is truly confused. Standing in the rain amidst sheep poop on the Hill of Tara, I thought, "This is really lovely. If only my toes weren't wet and ...messy." Walking around the Trim Castle, I thankfully basked in the sun of a surprisingly clear sky while meandering around the massive stone structure. And as the mist that coated my camera lens outside the Locke Distillery had me finally uttering, "I don't get this damn barometric situation! Ah, to hell with it. It's whiskey time."

Every day we flew across the clouds and squeezed our big bus between pasture-lined country roads. Once in a while, the mist would cease, and an opening in the atmosphere would reveal St. Patrick's mountain or a field of white horses. It's hard to let Ireland's weather ruin a trip to Ireland, but when the weather is good, it's gorgeous. Nothing on the trip topped the ultimate vista at the most westerly point of our tour. Atop a cliff covered in purple flowers, I sat and stared at breaking waves and tiny uninhabited islands off the coast. A butterfly landed next to me. I laughed, because it was all so ridiculously poetic.

The Cliffs of Moher luckily emerged from an intense cloud cover only a half hour before we got there and we were able to see where land was sliced by an undulating knife before the Earth popped in the oven. It caused a little existential hiccup to hear we were standing in Ireland's most popular suicide destination, but thankfully we didn't witness any travesties of the sort, only the simple elegance of nature.

And with every evening, whether we tucked into a one horse or 2,000 horse town, it was a mission for Guinness, for three-time distilled Irish whiskey, for a moment's rest from a day of bumping on a bus. And when the mind is filled with the vibrant greens of the day, one can easily conclude Ireland is easy on the senses.

Neon chlorophyll and Guinness...and don't forget the nice craic.

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Lindsay Clark

09.04.09

The Love of the Irish (WTI)

I once loved Lucky Charms cereal. Back in the day, my mom would only purchase whole grain, non-sugary cereals for our morning bowls, so I would pounce at the chance to grab that box packed with clover and rainbow marshmallows at friend's houses. That leprechaun really hypnotized me with his marketing spiel. They really were magically delicious.

I realized not too long ago that the little leprechaun was the extent of my exposure to Irish culture; that is until I met some real Irishmen (and women) in the traveling community. Thank goodness, because I now find the consistency of the mallows to be rather putrid, and you'd hate to be turned off a country based on a non-authentic food association.

Some white-water kayakers chasing the rapids of the Nile in Uganda.

A round-the-world traveler taking a break from overlanding on the beaches of Zanzibar.

A woman enjoying some time off while jetting across India.

If I were to list all the amazing Irish people I've met in various circumstances, my brain would spin and hurl from overuse. The Irish get out there. They are not only lovers of fun, but make for great friends on the road. As a whole, they're immediately welcoming and seem to understand the comforts and personalities of others quite easily. And when you spend a lot of time away from home, loneliness is often a part of your daily emotional load...that is, unless there are some Irish around.

It wouldn't matter to me what time of year I visit Ireland or what activities I take part in - I would travel to Ireland just to be around the humor and mindset of the people who live there. Sitting in an empty pub, having a pint at the bar and chatting with the bartender sounds fantastic to me. Falling into a conversation with the man next to me on the bus would probably leave me smiling. And we're darn lucky to be right across the pond from these guys, making it easier to pop on over for a quick break from work to be around a new culture that's impossible not to love.

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Lindsay Clark

09.03.09

Tour of the Scottish Highlands (WTI)

We bolted for the Highlands. There was no stopping us. The bright yellow tour bus resembled the Coors Light Silver Bullet Train in my mind as it streamed like a beast across very green and steadily growing hills. When there was a need to stretch the legs, we stopped in a town that brings to mind the adjectives quaint, cute and colorful. When our bellies grumbled, pubs and cafes appeared and never did we leave the big yellow bus door without multiple recommendations for the best food to be had or the best church to be seen.

On the bus, it was always learning time. If I were to pack in the amount of knowledge our guide Kyle had about Scotland into my head, surely geometry equations and verb conjugations would spill out of my ears. Basically, his brain overfloweth with Scottish facts. He told stories, recounted mythical tales and even played DJ by orchestrating an eclectic and authentic Scottish playlist. Bus time was never wasted time.

As the landscape got cooler, we began the side trips. The Battle of Culloden was apparently one that determined the fate of our future countries and cultures. Kyle explained the brutal slaughtering of the Jacobites as we stood on the very soil that soaked up the puddling blood. You can do nothing else in such a spirit-filled presence but wander solemnly and imagine mass fatalities occurring on this, currently, luminous land. Eerie.

After having a little cultural reenactment by a traditional Scottish clansmen (man, those clothes must have smelt rugged), Kyle made it possible to take an optional boat ride on the Loch Ness. We boarded as skeptics, thinking we were only there for the scenery and to joke about water monsters, but I returned to solid ground with squinting eyes and an odd sensation that I believed what the sailor aboard was telling us. There really may be a monster, or perhaps 18, in the Loch Ness. There's some pretty eerie "proof" circulating on the down low.

Day two pleased me to no end. The castle from the movie Entrapment?! Get outta town! We walked around what was once majestic, then terrorized and knocked to the ground, and is now rebuilt to its original splendor. Eilean Donan Castle is one famous little stack of rocks at the merging of three lakes, and I oogled the rooftop, trying to envision Sean Connery dropping his whiskey glass into the swampy abyss.

And with a subsequent visit to the Isle of Skye, I was then rocked by colors: slate blue ocean, yellow-green hills, pale blue skies, gray and mossy stones of yore. This day reminded me I see the Highlands permanently stuck in some medieval period, where stones are primary building materials, blood is shed in the most brutal way, and the oldest of English vocabulary is necessary for conversation (though Highlanders usually only spoke Gaelic). It's funny to think where we get these ideas, to suspend a culture in a time we never really knew or witnessed firsthand. I guess Scotland lends to it with the preservation of its medieval castles (as does Florence with the Renaissance architecture or my grandma with her '70s style furniture). We all reminisce about the good 'ol days, I guess.

I was never untouched by the view out the window. The soil of the hills held stories I'd cringe hearing and the clouds were ever-present to keep the landscape new and changing. Glen Coe was no exception to the beautiful Highland rule: this spot on the Earth is towering and begging to be hiked. And when a leisurely drive around the open land brings you past cows with teenage boy hair, you can't help but think the Highlands are hilarious. One may even call them Wild and Sexy.

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Lindsay Clark

09.01.09

Why You Have to Visit Edinburgh (WTI)

Stepping outside after dropping my dirty and travel-worn bags, I noticed the cobblestones, the old building fronts, the charm that draws you in immediately without the need for double-decker bus tours or guided walks following a man holding a yellow umbrella. Edinburgh is a city that makes you yearn not to be a tourist. All I wanted to do was find some grad student pub or old bookstore, sit in a wee corner of a medieval building or on a less-crowded city sidewalk and soak the old and the new in through my skin and eyes.

Edinburgh isn't stuck in the past. It seems the residents are in sync with 21st century life while loving the saturation of rich culture and history that surrounds them in this city. She reminded me of Florence, not in style or appearance but through the tangible beauty of sitting amidst the memories of diverse and exciting centuries.

I had the added pleasure of having a friend in town, a pal named Mary from my high school and college days who had lived in Edinburgh for about two years altogether. She had a passion for the Scottish and especially the fantastic culture to be found down each cobbled street. And Mary took me straight to the ambiance I was thirsting for: a bar by the local university, filled with young minds and cheap, local draft.

Within about 60 minutes of landing in Scotland, I fell for the country. It could be the quarter of my ancestry screaming out for its Scottish roots, but I don't think you have to be a Scotsman by blood to realize the joys of the plaid land. When every building speaks of a bygone era and every local seems to reek of humor, you feel satisfied with your destination...

I highly doubt Edinburgh in the off-season lacks the vigor of its summer days, but we came at the absolute best time of year. August brings the Fringe, the world's largest arts festival, which means the city doubles in size, every nook is filled with artisan wares, and the energy of Edinburgh reaches all-time highs causing anyone to feel inspired and want to grab a mic or a paint brush. I felt the own artist in me jumping around inside, hoping to express something amidst a sea of purging souls. Part of me now feels there's no other place on Earth to be in August than here.

I think my friend, as well as the fabulous Rachel Rudwall, had it figured out: Edinburgh is a great place to study abroad. And if I'm lucky, I'll return to truly experience the grandeur of the Fringe Festival in August, as well as spend some quality one-on-one time with a city that now makes my top ten list: Edinburgh.

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Lindsay Clark

08.28.09

Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster (WTI)

Would you take me seriously if I told you I believe in Nessie, the Loch Ness monster? Crazy thing is I actually think I do. At least the old sailor on our boat trip made it very easy to imagine such a creature existed below us in those deep and murky waters of Scotland.

A few of us from our Scottish Highlands Bus Tour decided to spend an hour of our first evening aboard a boat in one of Scotland's most beautiful settings. This lake, or loch in Scottish Gaelic, is a natural body of water created on a fault line, its depth reaching 260 meters at points. The temperature of the water is frigid and it's hardly transparent enough to see your hand dipped in two feet deep. We were told, "If all the water in all the lakes and rivers of Scotland was poured into an empty Loch Ness, it wouldn't be enough to fill it." Water pressure is intense when people or unmanned remote vehicles submerge. The conditions of the water have made it extremely difficult to really investigate the possibilities of massive creatures in the water, but there are some, like our boat guide, who make it their life missions to prove this creature exists.

I met a few fun individuals from the tour who shared my dreams of having Nessie recreate the quintessential Free Willy moment over our heads. We even took a picture to later be edited in Photoshop with that effect. But soon, the boat guide brought us down below to hear his tales and be convinced, not just amused.

Multiple TV monitors displayed the activity going on below the boat. One could map out the depth and appearance of the lake bed and another illustrated the wildlife with massive blots of color. Twenty-five years of this man's life have been dedicated to finding Nessie and her pals, as they believe there are possibly 18 "monsters" in the loch. And when he began showing photos of the TV monitors picking up 3-ton creatures, our eyes opened a little wider. When a remote-operated vehicle submerged to the lake bed, they found a skeleton of mass proportions in the shape of our Nessie assumptions. Whoa.

The biggest shock came when he showed us a photo he captured while kayaking years prior. NASA confirmed this photo hadn't been altered digitally - so he claimed. And if that's true, holy cow, there is something with a huge, scaly neck in Loch Ness.

I love running into these passionate people around the World who find one thing they would die for and spend their lives pursuing one goal. Though we Americans like to be skeptical of stories like Nessie's, it's fun getting pulled into these old mysteries by the people who bleed them.

Nessie's out there, man. Go check it out for yourself.

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Lindsay Clark

08.27.09

Ask a Question about Greece, Win a Free Sweatshirt

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Lindsay Clark and Chris Danner

08.21.09

Things To Know Before Visiting Greece (WTI)

Things To Know Before Visiting Greece:

• You can't flush paper down toilets on the islands
• The water on the islands isn't recommended for drinking, so get that money ready for all those bottles
• ATVs and scooter rentals are everywhere and seem like they're totally worth it
• The Greek and Italian languages are nothing alike
• The beaches are sometimes difficult to get to on the islands and most are clothing-optional
• There's no avoiding cigarette smoke in Greece. It's everywhere.
• In Greece, the party starts well after midnight and can continue into brunch time
• The water really is that blue
• They don't have the greatest beer...and the wine is clearly superior in Italy
• Gyros are a lovely and cheap option for eating out, especially before or after a late night
• Italians LOVE Mykonos
• Going topless on a beach is quite common
• Feta in Greece is served as a thick slab of cheese, not in crumbles, and it's delicious there

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Lindsay Clark

08.20.09

What to Expect from Santorini (WTI)

Holy mackerel, Mykonos ripped my body apart and threw it to the seagulls. With every passing minute on the ferry, my head swirled against the motions of the waves and filled with pain. It's so sad, when your body becomes a victim to disease on the road, but I tried to wipe away my horrifying expression and enjoy as much as possible this most anticipated destination: Santorini.

Here's what one can expect from Santorini...

• All civilization lies at a high elevation on the island. It takes a while to get places.
• Buildings really do cling to the cliffs and present those beautiful cityscapes.
• The beaches are both calm and crazy and all are clothing optional.
• Scooter and ATV rentals abound, making it very easy to get around and love where you are

Climbing caused my head to throb - I could barely open my eyes to the gorgeous sunset falling over the rooftops. And without the ability to open my eyes, I couldn't rent a scooter and therefore discovered no beaches. Sadly, I did not see Santorini the way it was meant to be seen.

My weary body did, however, muster up enough energy (after 18 hours of rest) to go on the optional tour with the group: to walk over the Santorini volcano, swim in hot springs and ride a donkey from the water to town. Views were blue, rocky, and gorgeous at every glance, and luckily, the heavy smell of sulfur in the hot springs had no affect on me. I could barely breathe, let alone smell! We covered our faces in hot mud from the floor of the hot springs and my struggling complexion caught a break with its healing effects.

We boarded stubborn donkeys at the base of the cliff, only to laugh and scream all the way up. They would run, stop, bite each other, squeeze our legs against walls and other donkeys and I couldn't help but make as many "ass" puns and donkey references as humanly possible.

Santorini has the parties and the peace. I wish I could have experienced and loved both, but instead I dealt with the realities of travel: the occasional disease caused by exhaustion.

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Lindsay Clark

08.19.09

Nights in Mykonos (WTI)

The word "Mykonos" causes some people to involuntarily pump their fist and bite their lip with anticipation with the thought of staying up until brunch time having cocktails while dancing on flashing platforms in your weekend best. My grandma body sighed at the sound of "Mykonos" knowing fully well it could not handle the pressure to party all night long...but it has to because that's the job. Go, grandma, go! Pump those fists!

Night fell. I emptied my camera bag and refilled it with water bottles and two Red Bulls. I threw a new dress over my head, blew my hair dry, and gave my mirror image a thumbs-up. Let's do this, grandma! Note to all: camera bags insulate nicely, so energy drinks stay nice and cool. Following some dude on stilts through downtown Mykonos Town, we eventually found our way to a big ol', throbbing club that offered us VIP passes to avoid a hefty cover charge.

It took two hours, but the party started. Bodies filed in and ordered Red Bull and vodkas like fresh robots off the assembly line. Girls with feathers strapped to their glutes swung on poles and fanned themselves to the pulse of the techno. I couldn't help but bring that hand up in a fist and thrust it into the open, flashing air. The music carried me across expanses of time, even though my Red Bull ran dry and sandals dug into my feet. At every climax of the beats, the bartenders stood on top of us all and threw handfuls of napkins into beams of light. They scattered on sweaty crowds and mopped up every spilled drink on the ground.

My care pack served me well and I lasted amongst the most dedicated night-dwellers until 5:30 a.m., when I walked outside to a sunrise...and very afflicted eardrums. Getting back to the hotel at 7 a.m., I passed a runner and giggled.

I wouldn't do it again for ages, but I truly enjoyed bouncing to ridiculous beats and the repeated scream of "My-Ko-Nos" for that one night only. Grandma pulled it together. And so can you.

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Lindsay Clark

08.18.09

Paros: First Stop in the Greek Isles (WTI)

A beach! A warm beach! Without jellyfish, sharks or boiling outdoor temperatures! The Greek islands were calling me while I was still preparing for the trip in America. Every island the ferry passed was a tease until we finally slowed and reversed into the port for Paros. Oh, sweet breezes and salty air! We made it to our relaxation portion of this year's Internship, a much needed moment for sun-worshipping and getting rid of my wicked farmer's tan.

Paros marked the first destination on a tour of three islands in the Aegean Sea and she met almost every expectation. White buildings with strong blue accents made up the entire landscape, and windmills stood poised over the harbor. Restaurants lined the boardwalk and the wind made my hair dance into happy knots.

The tour itinerary was something along the lines of "choose one or more of the following: eat, walk, shop, rest, beach, pool, tan, read, rent scooters, drink, enjoy your beautiful surroundings."  That sounds darn near perfect.

The next day, when it came to a full day of experiencing Paros, our tour guide had something in store if we had no inspiration on our own. I took part in the optional day tour and found myself wandering picturesque fishing towns, running across wave-breaking walls, and at a lovely beach playing newly invented ball games with new friends and a very hospitable sun.

Nightfall in Paros had me dancing on a table. How'd I get up there? Oh, I know. Two days of soul-pleasing leisure and a Red Bull. And it did not take any convincing to get the other tour participants up on the tables with me. Flashing lights pulsed and free group drinks flowed to make smiles spread across our newly tanned faces. This was only the beginning. We all had energy.

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Lindsay Clark

08.17.09

Athens: It's Not Italy (WTI)

I love Italy; therefore, I always thought I'd love Greece.

It's easy to lump them together as Southern Europe/Mediterranean countries and call them similar cultures since they both claim responsibility for civilization as we know it. Ah, but driving into Athens, observing the surrounding barren hills, passing by the various eateries, hearing a language so dissimilar from the romances...Greece immediately broke away from Italy in my mind and thrilled me immeasurably. Things are very different here - however - there still seems to be that indescribable inspiration that pulled me to Italy years ago. I was bound for a good week in a new country.

Athens knows no boundaries. I couldn't find the end to the buildings that crawled up the hill slopes and towards the sea. I was far too intimidated to venture anywhere in town other than my hotel's neighborhood for fear of never finding my way back. Athens certainly wasn't a planned city by any stretch of the imagination, so streets rarely met at 90 degree angles and are not as wide as they should have been. Instead, I took a few steps outside and found the Plaka scene a.k.a. tourist haven at the foot of the Acropolis.

Steaming and juicy gyros in minutes. Artsy fashion shops amongst souvenir displays. Trendy joints for moussaka blowing misty wind at the pampered clientele. I found everything I wanted (sandals, dresses, and gorgeous alleys) and all the prime opportunities for people watching I could ask for. Between the buildings rose the age old columns of the Parthenon; the gods are probably chuckling at all the ridiculous t-shirt designs and ruin-themed shot classes.

As much as these areas of towns piss me off, they also satisfied all desires of shopping, eating and observing things you didn't expect to see. One of my favorite parts about Athens was the fact that so many vendors were trying to sell these squashing, gooey balls that flatten as they're thrown on a board. Sad thing is tourists buy those. We all get sucked into the culture catered for us at some point, somewhere.

A city of vast expanses, charm and grit, and constant inspiration rising from every crowded street and pile of rubble. Athens has a history that will forever express itself. I like this city.

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Lindsay Clark

08.14.09

Wine Tasting in South Africa (WTI)

Wine Tasting: a classy concept that seems to inspire smarter ensembles, a listening ear and a more discernible palate than one actually has.

Wine tasting isn't something you can't do elsewhere. And during our planning sessions for South Africa, we almost vetoed this idea because of that fact. But that would have been a mistake, as everyone - travelers and residents - that we asked for suggestions on activities in South Africa mentioned we needed to spend a day trying the grape products of the Western Cape. Not only is there delicious alcohol involved in the equation but beautiful landscapes, a little bit of learning and no doubt fun people in it as well.

We were in.

Our guide, Merinda, picked us up in the morning along with five young others who all possessed that wine sparkle in their eye. Our schedule was to hit four or five vineyards that all had something special to offer: unlimited goat cheese tasting, sparkling wines, stunning views, and the best, most varied selection of Pinotage around.

And it was here we found the one thing that made wine tasting in South Africa unique: a combination of Pinot and Hermitage (so I was told...can't remember exactly for some reason...hic!). The king of Pinotage had white, blush and red versions of this South African specialty, and we tried every single one of them. I tried to differentiate the tastes between an oaken barrel and steel tank fermentation and decided wood trumps steel any day.

The drive back was dramatically different than the drive there. Everyone had a plastic glass sloshing recent purchases and chocolate fingers. Red teeth dressed up every photograph captured. And a massive sing-along of Aussie national songs and American classics like "American Pie" commenced that probably rocked our driver's ear drums. The day ended at 5 p.m., and for some of us, that was pretty much all we could handle.

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Lindsay Clark

08.14.09

What's Going Down in Cape Town (WTI)

Are you aware of the seven natural wonders of the world? No? Perfect, because I'm about to list them off:

• Victoria Falls in Zambia/Zimbabwe
• Mt. Everest in Nepal/China
• The Grand Canyon in Arizona
• The Great Barrier Reef off Australia
• The Northern Lights
• Paricutin Volcano in Mexico
• The Harbor of Rio de Janiero

Do you know what is missing from this list? I propose to include an eighth natural wonder of the world based on the fact that its just as spectacular as the landscape of Rio.

Cape Town. It's beyond words.

Beyond words, indeed, but I'll attempt anyway. Not only is this stunning coastal city hugging beautiful chilly waters of both the Atlantic and maybe a smidge of the Southern Ocean, but it's topped by a plateau that throws the clouds over its summit like a table cloth as well as the twelve jutting crags that line the western face of the mountain range. To look up any street in the city and see in the crisp sky this massive formation just makes the heart melt. The best is when this view comes at you from your hostel WC. Talk about a loo with a view!

What is there to do in Cape Town, you ask? If you like to spend money, look at things, eat things, climb things, free fall, ride around, drink things, or dance around, you'll enjoy yourself in Cape Town.

What cannot be overlooked, though, is the history that barely dates back more than a decade. In our lifetimes, there was complete havoc between racial and socioeconomic lines, travesties committed against people by people. And now this place waits for you at the bottom of Africa, tempting you with sports, wine and awesome views.

It doesn't seem like the dust could have settled by now, and in many ways it hasn't. Racism will continue to flourish probably for decades to come (sadly). So in the mix of traveling throughout this great city, it pays to visit the townships and orphanages that resulted from the human cruelty of apartheid. It's not quite "dark tourism," but it gives you an awareness that could easily be avoided (to your disadvantage) and could definitely enhance the trip.

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Lindsay Clark

08.13.09

Garden Route in South Africa (WTI)

Africa is like a really big trail map.

Cairo to Cape Town.

Malaga to Douala.

Nairobi to Victoria Falls.

Tour companies and travelers alike have realized that those who make it to Africa are there to spend some time and see a good lot of incredible sights. You won't meet many people who travel to Africa and hop around by air to all the different destinations. Everyone overlands. And everyone takes the same paths, whether in an overland vehicle, a fully-loaded Jeep with their families, or a cramped and ancient public bus. They do this because there aren't many distinct "sites" in Africa. Africa is the sight to behold in itself.

See the land in between and connect destinations with the open road. Follow along these well-known paths and you'll often see the same travelers at the same junctions on the way. People swap stories and can relate to each other because they all know Ma who works at Snake Park in Arusha and that one fantastic beach bar in Nungwi, Zanzibar, where the local boys practice their dance moves. Following these trails creates a community of vagabonds that all move by different means but all move to the same places.

In South Africa, the trail to follow is the Garden Route.

Starting (or ending) in Cape Town, one can experience the endless activities of this harbor city and move on via Baz Bus to a plethora of towns along the southern coast. Whether you want to hit up the wine lands in Stellenbosch, the whale watching and cage diving near Hermanus, the beautiful landscapes of Mossel Bay, or the adventure sports of Plettenberg Bay, there are tens of stops to choose from and so many travelers to tell you good advice for your route.

The views are pretty much stunning everywhere and we were there in the wintertime, when the sun was always at about half-mast and the wind was gentle and cool. Perfect. It can only get better from an already sky-high standard of vacation. And one of the best parts of the Garden Route, especially during that time of year, is the laid-back atmosphere that encourages relaxation and taking your merry time to blaze the trail.

Africa seems like a tough place to begin thinking about visiting, but after a quick glance on the internet, anyone will find a slew of routes and easy ways to digest the birth continent of mankind. And with a name like the "Garden Route," you know you're not going to be disappointed on your tour of South Africa.

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Lindsay Clark

08.13.09

Trekking through South Africa (WTI)

Have you been keeping up with our World Traveler Intern journey? Yes or No.

If the answer is yes, you've aced today's coolness test. It's based on hundreds of factors developed by brilliant scientists in order to accurately determine someone's personal awesomeness level. If you answered no, you can't possibly have less internet access than we have, so there's no excuse. Catch up now!...then come back and finish this blog :)

The reason I ask this hard-hitting question is that if your answer was yes, then you know we've been boarding tour bus after tour bus thus far with strangers-turned-friends around the world. You'd also know that Chris and I weren't really tour people to begin with but have had experiences thus far that would need "best time ever," "once in a lifetime," and "hooray for life" phrases attached to them.

But with South Africa came a whole new experience...an unplanned one! Though we had our hostels and Baz Bus reservations all set, we had open-ended days in spectacular cities along the southernmost coast of Africa in need of filling. So when STA Travel's marketing manager, Carly, joined us in Johannesburg for a lil' South Africa getaway, we started rambling off all the things that had to get done.

• Great White Shark Cage Diving
• Hiking Table Mountain
• Stellenbosch Winelands
• Adventure Sports
• Long Street and the Waterfront

...and a healthy slew of others. With only one or two days in Cape Town to do it up right, we talked to fellow travelers (lots of the volunteers from i-to-i) and travel agents to find out the scoop, which was that adventure sports could wait until the Garden Route.

What's unique to this area? The best ways to spend a few days in Cape Town? Hiking tall, flat mountains and savoring fine wines, of course. And so we did. We actually extended our time in Cape Town in order to allow for more enjoyment of this city that is idolized by her visitors and especially her residents.

What's great about the Garden Route are the landscapes, the relaxed wintertime environment, and the heaps of activities available. I see Cape Town as one of those cities that makes everything in it better because it's existing and happening in that city. Just like New York, Chicago, Florence, Paris, London, Bangkok, Hong Kong, Sydney...these places live. And when something happens there, regardless of how fun or cool it actually was, it's immediately on a higher level, solely based on the real estate mantra of location³! Therefore, we had to see the nightlife, had to shop, had to go wine tasting, had to walk up big slopes, had to take tons of pictures and wander around...not because these are things we never get to do, but because they are occurring in this booming and blooming city.

And that's how we decided on our itinerary for South Africa. Hike. Drink Wine. Shark Dive. Bungee. Sky Dive. Whale watch. View animals. And the trip was perfect...

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Lindsay Clark

08.12.09

Meeting the World Traveler Interns in South Africa

After three years developing the World Traveler Internship program, I finally decided to get out from behind the desk and experience this program “in the field.” I must say, I always thought World Traveler Internship was pretty awesome, but I don’t think I realized until I got out there how life-changing it actually is.  It changed me - and I only experienced it for 8 days!

For starters, I have never been a big risk-taker. I’ve always preferred physical challenges with my feet safely on the ground, but traveling with the Interns means taking risks… so I faced my lifelong fear of heights (specifically falling from a plane) and took the dive over Plett Bay,  South Africa. Needless to say, I was terrified…

Of course, after the first adrenaline rush, I was confident I could live through anything so I said screw it.  Might as well dive with sharks while I’m at it.  TIA!  Translation: This is Africa! A common phrase you’ll hear while traveling across this wild continent.

But South Africa isn’t all about testing the physical limits of (wo)mankind. It’s also about stretching your worldview and interacting with a way of life very foreign to life as we know it in the U.S.  Lindsay, Chris and I spent several days working with children in the townships just outside Cape Town.  Prior to visiting, I had no idea what the word township even meant, but I quickly learned that these communities, created for non-whites during the Apartheid, were living a far harsher reality than their white neighbors down the block.  The children we worked with had been sexually abused, some were HIV positive and some were overcoming an addiction to drugs that they had had since birth.  Talk about a rough start to life.

The good news is that the South African government and many non-profit organizations are working hard to make improvements especially with World Cup 2010 right around the corner.  I was happy to see that several of the crèches we worked with were full of volunteers and resources for the children.  Every little bit helps.

Traveling with the World Traveler Interns through South Africa amazed me and inspired me so much so that I’ve created a video to convince all you travelers why you should meet up with the interns next summer!

If you have any questions about South Africa or what it’s like to meet up with the interns, don’t hesitate to ask!

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Carly Mills

08.12.09

Volunteering in South Africa, Part 3 (WTI)

There's nothing louder and simultaneously as comforting as rain on a tin roof - even during monsoons. This must be what makes the Cape Town area look so clear, clean and lush. And surely, when we emerged from our rooms that second day in False Bay, the world was dripping and new.

Into Masi again, we went into a few creches where children from the township can receive child care and an education while their parents work, in hopes that they will someday be at the same academic level as their peers.

The first one was hooked up - resources filled the shelves in an organized, well-labeled fashion. At our arrival, one volunteer was reading a book in English and a teacher next to her translated the story in Xhosa, chocked full of clicks and tongue smacks. Activity time commenced with drawing and painting, and we tried getting our hands and minds in there with the kids. I ended up stacking toys with young five and six-year-olds, trying to teach them colors and shapes. One teacher came over, asking me if I've been "teaching her children." When the kids nodded their heads, she looked really touched, and I was filled with...dare I say...glee.

The second creche wasn't nearly as organized, discipline-oriented, or effective in making a difference for the kids. These two and three-year-olds, as well as babies, pretty much danced around a building erected by previous volunteers and entertained themselves. Part of the process, though, of programs coming in to help various establishments is waiting for an invitation and a genuine intention to progress towards something sustainable. Though this creche had made great leaps towards improving the conditions for the kids, moving them from a flooded and moldy room in the back of the house to a clean, dry, well-lit structure, they didn't have daily routines or enough activities to calm their busy minds and bodies. Luckily the ones at this creche move on to the previous creche and receive the skills that will get them somewhere.

And the women who run these places often don't receive enough donations to function but must work themselves on the weekends and evenings for funds to run their creche. That's some noble, admirable dedication right there.

Our volunteer coordinators, Ally and Isabelle, treated us to a much appreciated meal and took us to our final destination of an orphanage in a colored community. Something Ally informed us of early on is the use of racial terms in accepted speech. In South Africa, people describe  others as white, black or colored. Simply using these words does not imply anything derogatory. The term "colored" differentiates those who have dark skin and other influences of Arabic, Asian, and so on.

The orphanage is better than many that exist in America today and had been visited by Melinda Gates in the past. They had resources, though an odd stance on nutrition (the meals of custard answered questions about the quite round babies). We played for a bit after a tour of the facilities and returned to our hostel, feeling pretty content from the incredible treatment we received for two days straight.

Thomas Jefferson was a fan of travel: "Travel makes you wiser, but less happy." In a sense, I think he was on target, but global and social awareness can also bring a feeling of hope and enlightenment that can empower and please. I didn't feel happy seeing children and adults living hard lives that I observed as a cushy tourist, but I loved being witness to their strong characters and seeing the moments of success that emerge from the hardships. You can hear about the problems in South Africa and easily forget about them. You can see the problems in South Africa and remember them well. You can do something for the struggles, learn about the solutions, and interact with South Africans and understand viscerally until the end of your days. For this reason, I volunteer, because I don't ever want these hard realities to be easy to forget.

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Lindsay Clark

08.11.09

Volunteering in South Africa, Part 2 (WTI)

The barking from TEARS reverberates across the entirety of Masiphumalele daily, but what's represented by those sounds make the annoyance of constant dog yelping kinda comforting. The Emma Animal Rescue Society (TEARS) takes stray animals and domestic pets from the local communities for vaccinations, fixing and disease treatment at a price that no one can argue with: free. Instead of putting down pups with horrifying skin diseases, they do what they can to ensure that every animal gets a chance at survival and adoption. And when they wander across a pet cat that hasn't been neutered yet, they create a positive relationship and rapport between TEARS and the owner, gaining respect and trust among people who don't often have the money to do the right thing for their beloved pets.

The mobile clinic invited us to join a ride through Masi to observe how they find needy animals and connect with the communities. There was one man living on the very edge of the wetlands who absolutely adored his large, golden canines but couldn't feed them and treat them they way they deserved. TEARS built him a kennel and helped him out with dog food. The man was so grateful, he put his palms together and dipped his head in a sign of extreme and humble thanks.

In the next township of Mountain View, we came across a man who adored his massive pit bull, a canine who was quite obviously not fixed. The dog's homemade sweater was connected to the chain around his neck and had felt letters sewn on spelling "I'm so hood". It was just too perfect an ensemble. The owner reeked of booze and had an odd smear of white surrounding his mouth. He insisted that he'd never taken his dog to a fight, but he's killed 13 dogs before. And he took impeccable care to pair his fella with only the most worthy pit bull ladies, spreading the good bloodlines he called it. In this community, it's common that the men keep incredibly virile and dangerous dogs to solidify their own manly image. This was a case that would take weeks for TEARS to work, and they began by talking about dog fight victims to get on this guy's sappy side. We watched from afar at their wicked skills of coercion.

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Lindsay Clark

08.10.09

Hiking Table Mountain (WTI)

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Lindsay Clark and Chris Danner