One of the most popular ways to soak up the scenery of Guangxi Province is to take a bamboo raft down the Li River.  Yangdi is the preferred starting place and the new fee structure starting January 1^st, 2012 requires a 118 RMB (US $19) fee which includes a spot on a four-seat bamboo raft. Disappointingly, most of the bamboo rafts have been replaced with bamboo-shaped plastic tubing. Alternatively, one could hike the whole 16 km to Xingping, but there’s no discount on the ticket.

When I visited in early January, most of the hiking trail was closed for repair, but I was able to walk the last six kilometers. Visibility was also poor this time of year, as you can see from my photos. This stretch of the Li River is said to be the most beautiful. It is here that you can see the view of the mountains on the back of the 20 Yuan note.

Another route to take is the bigger river boat all the way from Guilin to Yangshuo. This is more expensive and takes about 4-5 hours.

Cycling around Yangshuo is also a popular way to see the stunning landscape.

The shops are all closed up. There’s hardly any foot traffic or cars on the streets. Red lanterns hung around the city add to the atmosphere. But the most noticeable way to tell it’s the Eve of Chinese New Year is by the excessive and near constant explosions of firecrackers.

Children light them off. So do adults. But it’s the teenagers that are most aggressive. One will ride on the back of a scooter facing backwards lighting a series of firecrackers and dropping them while his or her friend drives away. I saw others having mini-wars; throwing clusters at their friends. Others just set them off near random people and scurry off before being seen.

Some firecrackers are bigger and louder than others. After a long string of big ones, at least one car alarm will get set off. The climax came at midnight, when it seemed like each of the city’s citizens was setting fireworks off at the same time.

I am witnessing all this in the small city of Jianshui, in Yunnan Province, about 200 km south of Kunming. Jianshui is known for its traditional architecture: its huge red gateway arch Chaoyang Lou, its venerable Confucian academy, the traditional Zhu Family Gardens, and the captivating 17-arch Twin Dragon Bridge.

Tomorrow, the 23^rd of January will be New Year’s Day and people will leave their homes to promenade through the old cobbled streets during the afternoon. The shops will all be open; the Taoist temple will be busy, and the street vendors will be cooking up their famous Jianshui barbecue.

The Chinese call this Lunar New Year’s celebration Spring Festival. The Lunar Calendar is observed in much of Asia. Last year I celebrated Lunar New Year in South Korea, which was an incredible cultural experience for me, spending the entire day with a Korean couchsurfer and his family. This year was not as special for me—I’ve just been watching people celebrate in the streets. I wasn’t able to see how any Chinese families celebrated in their homes. Nevertheless, it was fun to see everyone excited and in a festive spirit.

See the photos below of Jianshui preparing for Spring Festival, or Chinese New Year:

Red lanterns for sale in Jianshui, China

Red lanterns hang on the city gate in Jianshui, China

Decorations hung at the traditional Zhu Family Gardens in Jianshui, China

New Year’s decorations at the Confucian Temple in Jianshui, China

Red lanterns hung at the Confucian Temple in Jianshui, China.

Fireworks for sale in Jianshui, China.

Setting up fireworks at a private residence.

After the firecrackers

Exploded fireworks in front of the Linan Inn in Jianshui, China

Shops closed up on New Year’s Eve. Smoke after the firecrackers.

Out with last year’s red lanterns.

By Nelya Rakhimova

There are places on the Earth where winter lasts almost 9 months. Yar-Sale is one of them. Located above the Arctic Circle, it is a small town with population about 5,000 people. It’s the administrative center of Yamal Region, which occupies the whole Yamal Peninsula. It was founded in 1927 by Soviets. In 1932 it became the administrative center in order to the Nenets, nomads who live there. In the Nenets language, Yar-Sale means “Sandy Point” as it is located on a sand island surrounded by endless marshy tundra.

My parents moved to Yar-Sale for several years to earn more money. As they worked in the educational sphere, they couldn’t make much money in the south. Because there is need of education for local nomads, you can easily get good bonuses to your usual salary because of the “hardship” status of the living in the area. I visited my parents for New Year’s.

Visiting the northern nomads—the Nenets Nation—became the best New Year’s present. It was an incredible experience also because one of my classmates, Alexey Serotetto is one of them. He was glad to show me around and to introduce me the wild northern life of his nation.

Getting to Yar-Sale

First of all, it is necessary to say that it is one the places in Russia where it is really hard to get to. I flew from Tyumen to Salehard. Then you have two options to get to Yar-Sale: helicopter or jeep with huge wheels. During the summer you cannot drive cars between towns because there are no roads, only helicopters and boats can be used.

During the winter everything is frozen and only experienced drivers can find the right way. They prefer to drive when it dark because apparently they can see the way better than in daylight. However, it is not a problem in this region, because sunlight appears here only for two to three hours per day in winter. Helicopter pilots, in contrast, prefer to fly during this short sunny time.

I tried both means of transportation. As I landed quite late and I did not want to stay in Salehard for a night, I took an eight-hour jeep ride. Even though it is just 190 km (about 120 miles) it takes a lot of time to cross tundra. There is no road, snow covers traces of cars immediately and it is really easy to get lost. There is one stop on the way—the small town Aksarka—which is a good way to know you’re on the right path.

Nomads in Modern Life

The main purpose of the settlement is to provide local people with education and medicine. Every fall, children are collected by helicopter from the nomad’s camp and are brought here. They stay in a special school for nine months and then go back to their parents’ camps. Usually immigrants work in these organizations; most of the Nenets keep a traditional way of life.  They have a lot of subsidies as they are indigenous peoples. As a result they can get additional equipment to make life a bit more comfortable.

Only some of them try to get political power and defend their rights at the local level. They have apartments and from first glance have the same living conditions as Russian people. However, I realized that it is not really true when I visited my classmate in Yar-Sale. His apartment was organized as a traditional tent with lots of deerskins everywhere. They treated me with raw cut fish and instead of soup they offered me a bowl with reindeer’s blood. I liked it, by the way.

Some Nenets fit into the modern era very well, and some of them can get in real trouble. For example, the biggest problem is alcohol. The Nenets have not adapted to it as we have and it’s really easy for them to become dependent on alcoholic.

Day in the Tundra

Nenets people are really hospitable and they really like to show how they live, entertain and treat their guests. I was told that my classmate’s family participated in a documentary series of BBC ‘Tribe’ when a BBC crew spent about one month with them to make an episode about their tribe.  I had only one day to experience the freezing temperatures and their lifestyle was so unusual for me.

My classmate invited me to visit his relatives that were in 20 km from the town at that time. We met in the morning, while it was still dark. They gave me natural clothes to be comfortable during the trip. They are made from reindeer skins and are really warm and comfortable. The Nenets usually travel by snowmobile from the town to their camps. Camps are setup by families that overtake the reindeer in order provide them with the possibility to find food. As they eat reindeer moss, they need to move all the time. So sometimes people come and stay next to the town to get provisions and see relatives who have changed from the traditional lifestyle.

It took about one hour to get ready and another to get to the camp. We wanted to arrive there when it wasn’t dark so we didn’t have much time. It was amazing for me how the Nenets can find the right direction in the tundra. It is a completely white plain and monotonous landscape. Only sometimes there are some hills and small trees. When we were closer, we met the head of the family and he suggested we take a sled ride.

Sled Ride

The people that we visited didn’t have many reindeer. There were only about 300—they told us that is not a lot. They say that each of them has a special name and they remember each of them. Reindeer here are considered a holy animal for people. Life without them in such a severe climate is not possible; they provide food, clothing, and transportation.

There was only one traditional tent (chum) where people usually stay. Women are responsible for the transporting the tent, as well as setting it up, and what goes on inide. Usually there is an iron stove inside which helps to keep it warm.

The Chum

Inside there a lot of deerskins that are used as carpets and sleeping bags. The woman, host of the chum, treated us with different kinds of raw frozen fish and some vodka. As all Nenets people who complete school can speak Russian, we had nice conversation about their life and how they migrate from the north to the south during the winter and back during the summer. Toilets are situated away from the chums and separated into male and female areas. Their clothes are made in a special way to make it as comfortable as possible. However, I was told that when there is a snowstorm they use a robe to go outside because sometimes people can get lost. They cannot find their way back even if they go only a few meters away from the tent.  Also the Nenets will often take a stick with them to the toilet to fend off any overly-friendly reindeer that are in search of salty fluids.

In general, I was impressed with Nenets’ way of thinking. In the beginning I thought that I am going to meet uneducated people with who I do not have anything to talk about. However, I found out that they are incredible people who live in harmony with nature and who are completely happy to be there in such a cold and severe place. They told me how it is hard for them to live in small apartments, and how they miss the unlimited dark tundra, snow, frost, raw fish and meat.

We came back when it was completely dark. I did not want to give back such warm and comfortable clothes because I was going to stay in Yar-Sale for couple days more, but I did.  I was really happy that I had opportunity to understand these people who live in such a severe climate. It seems so crazy for us, people who are used to hot water from the tap and a heating system during the coldest days.

I understood once again that people can get used to everything and that happiness depends only on our perception of situations and that the endless white plain is one of the most beautiful landscapes that I have ever seen.

If you go

If you want to visit Yar-Sale, you need to have a special permission because this area is considered a pre-border area. I would suggest finding people who can host you there beforehand.

Nelya Rakhimova grew up in the town of Tobolsk, Russia, and moved to Tyumen when she was 15. She has spent the last few years traveling and studying in various countries and has recently completed her Master’s degree in the United States on a Fulbright Scholarship. This is her second feature for GoMad Nomad.

A few years back I had a week’s layover in the UK and bee lined it directly to Wales. It was the only country of the United Kingdom that I hadn’t already visited. After a couple days in Swansea I boarded the famous Heart of Wales Rail Line. After about three hours I had arrived in the spa town of Llandrindod Wells, in the heart of Mid Wales.

I was fortunate to find a couchsurfing host who lived in a very old stone house a few miles outside of town on a narrow road halfway up a hill. As a female couchsurfer living alone, she normally didn’t host male couchsurfers. Because her friends and family were visiting, she decided to host me. It turned out to be one of my best couchsurfing experiences ever.

Walking opportunities abound in this part of the country. It is one of the most sparsely populated regions of Britain. There is lots of agriculture in the form of raising sheep, which you’ll most likely see on any walk. We also got a chance to visit Caban Coch Dam which is part of the Elan Valley Reservoirs and dams: a series of reservoirs, aqueducts and dam built over a hundred years ago.

There are plenty of options for accommodation in Wales from cheap hotels in Cardiff to B&B’s in the countryside spa towns of Mid-Wales. No matter where you base yourself, you are sure to lose yourself in the splendor of Wales.

Text and photos by Stephen Bugno

Submit your photo of the week to be featured at GoMad Nomad with a link back to your blog!  Send a photo with a paragraph or two describing the photo or your experience to gomadnomadtravelmag [@] gmail.com

The other day, a good friend had posted her status on Facebook as: Looking to do a Costa Rican yoga retreat… Any recommendations?

What a brilliant idea. But wait. What if I’m not Facebook Savvy?

Why not Ask GoMad NoMad?

If you “don’t do” Facebook or Twitter, that’s why I’m here. You write me (Stephen) an email here at GoMad Nomad with your question and I do my best to answer it in this column: Ask GoMad Nomad. Email: gomadnomadtravelmag [at] gmail [dot] com

I’ve been traveling regularly and living abroad for much of the last ten years. In addition to that I’ve worked and volunteered abroad, so I have lots of ideas and knowledge at my fingertips.

While I have a lot of general knowledge of these aspects independent travel, I tend to reach out to others in my network to answer specialized questions.

By posting on Facebook, my friend did something very important. She harnessed the power of Social Media to get information about travel. These social media networks like Facebook and Twitter were not around 10 years ago and now we travelers have a whole new avenue of getting travel tips and information.

Facebook

Kristen did the right thing by posting on Facebook. Some of her friends posted their suggestion for her. I saw her status and mentioned that I would look into it for her. In turn, here’s what I did:

Use your network

In my nomadic lifestyle I tend to meet a diverse group of people that live all over the world. So I wrote an email to my old yoga instructor (who also just happens to be a very experienced traveler and writer at GoMad Nomad). And although she didn’t have any personal experience, her friend and teacher who does retreats in Guatemala highly recommended this one: Birmingham Yoga

Twitter

Twitter is about communication, albeit very brief communication. In 140 characters or less you need to get your point across or pose your question. Here’s a tip if you don’t have many followers: use hash tags (#). Here’s an example tweet I might use to in this situation: Looking to do a #CostaRica #yoga retreat. Any recommendations?

By using hash tags, anyone following the #CostaRica or #yoga tag has a better chance of catching your tweet.

Google

Additionally I did a Google search and also sought out my favorite independent travel magazines like the Matador Network and Transitions Abroad. These are both online publications that I trust, and know their recommendations would fit my friend’s personality. This led me to find: 20 Warm Weather Yoga Retreats around the World. I passed all this information to my friend. I hope soon she’ll be happily practicing yoga in Costa Rica, or some nearby country, and lets us know how it turned out.

One day last June, I went for a jog with my new friend Shannon.  She had moved to Cajamarca as part of a Fulbright grant to teach English at the university.  While she loved her life in Peru, she missed working with school-aged children and was looking for opportunities to volunteer with an under-served community.  I had been informally teaching English to several children on my street for months.  I wanted to formalize my efforts into classes, but didn’t know how to go about it.  By the end of our three-mile jog, we had decided to start a school.  It was as simple as that.

After a couple meetings, we bought some markers and a dry erase board and began teaching free English classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Following the principle that you don’t need a building to have a classroom, we began to teach in the street where the kids usually play soccer.  After two classes, a neighbor quickly volunteered a few child-sized chairs and the use of a roofed patio outside of his house.  Over time, more and more children came consistently and now we have an attendance between 12 and 18 children per class between the ages of four and eleven.  With geese, chickens and dogs wandering around us, we sing songs, play games and walk these kids through basic English. 

As terrible as it sounds, for most of my life I have not been a fan of children.  In graduate school, I dabbled in Pediatric occupational therapy but quickly became disinterested; preferring to work with a my-aged or older, even geriatric population.  Perhaps I hadn’t met the right kids.  For some reason, I find myself drawn to these children, who, despite the bad hands they were dealt, manage to be seemingly happy-go-lucky kids. 

Some of our students have it better than others.  Some eat three meals a day, others are lucky to get one.  Some go to school, others don’t.  One of my eight-year-old students lives in a closet-sized mud-and-grass hut with her 13-year old sister (who raised her).  Her parents live in the countryside and don’t want her.  One of our brightest students, Pepe, can’t walk due to a congenital spinal deformity; this seven-year-old boy crawls on his hands and ankles.  The family has been given money twice to bring him to Lima for a surgery that would give him the ability to walk, but they used the money on other things.  No matter what, each afternoon the kids gather to play soccer in the street with their worn ball and smiles on their faces.  Pepe is a surprisingly good player.

Each kid has a story.  These kids are TOUGH.  These kids rarely whine, cry or ask for anything more than for me to play soccer with them after class (a disgraceful sight).  In my opinion they need so much.  I want to give each one the same opportunities I had growing up.  However, saving the world or even one child is far more complicated than one would ever imagine (trust me, I’ve tried).  So, I offer free English classes twice a week to anyone who wants to come.  The kids and parents show extreme gratitude and have graciously welcomed me into their close community.

Not only are these kids happy, grateful and tough…they are SMART!  One day as I was conversing in Spanish with a small group, I asked a question and soon realized I already knew the answer.  “Duh!” I blurted out in English.  “Duh!” I heard the kids repeat.  From that point forward, I began to hear the expression “Duh,” used commonly and appropriately throughout the children of my neighborhood.  I was proud.  Fortunately their quick acquisition of the language carries over to more useful expressions such as “hello” and “how are you?” which I am greeted with frequently nowadays.

Shannon and I have faced challenges and worked around them.  No funding and lack of materials in English has not been a problem.  It forces us to be inventive.  Originally it was hard to get the kids to show up on time (four o’clock, gringo time tends to translate to four thirty or later, Peruvian time). We nipped that one in the bud by using constant reminders, starting class at four whether all the kids have arrived or not, and teaching classes that kids want to attend.  If you ask one of our students when the next class is, they will respond in English “Tuesday at four o’clock, punctual!”

The greatest problem we faced was that of classroom management.  With a teacher:student ratio of about 1:50 in the public schools, you can imagine it would be difficult to structure things.  In the local school that our students attend, the teaching is done mostly by lecturing in the front of the classroom.  During the first few classes, when we asked a question the children would either shout out the answers or stand up and wave their hands in front of our faces pleading “please miss, me, please!”  At the end of class when I read a book, the children would crowd me, trying to all sit in my lap at the same time.  Okay, so THESE kids are tough, happy, grateful, etc. but I don’t like them enough to get suffocated.  The chaos needed to be controlled and fast. 

Shannon, being a more patient person than myself and a more experienced teacher was good at ignoring the more outgoing children and calling on the polite ones.  I, on the other hand, couldn’t focus with this disorder.  First, I tried changing my typically “fun” demeanor.  I looked at the children who were talking amongst themselves with a frown on my face and disappointed and said “what are you doing?  Listen to your teacher!”  This was effective for about 15 minutes. Eventually we implemented rule: “when my hand is up, my mouth is closed” which has had a longer lasting outcome.  Generally we structure our lesson plans to keep the kids active and engaged, eliminating opportunities for them to act like brats.

While I spent time in the States in the early fall, Shannon continued to teach classes and upon my return in October I was greeted warmly by our students.  At that point we decided to get this on paper.  Shannon and I (both being major nerds) enjoyed long work sessions during which we wrote our mission and guiding principles, methodology, a profile of the community we serve, lesson structures and more.  After a couple weeks, we had our first draft of a portfolio.  All we lacked was a name and who better to ask than our bright young students? 

The one-and-only naming session was productive.  Shannon, myself, and several of the kiddos made suggestions.  Some were stereotypical names given frequently to schools, churches, buildings, and programs in Peru. “Escuela del Corazon,” (School of heart) “Escuela de las estrellas,” (school of the stars) “Escuela bonita,” (beautiful school) to name a few.  There were a few humorous suggestions such as “escuela de las gringas” and “escuela de los monos” (after their favorite song about monkeys jumping on the bed).  While the name “school of the monkeys,” was amusingly tempting (both to me and the kids), the final decision came down to a vote.  The winner?  “Mundo Maravilloso”.  In English: Wonderful World.

We’ve got a lot to do and a lot more kids to cater to.  At least 20 children have recently asked if they can join, but with Shannon back in the States, I’m putting a pause on new admissions.  I’m developing a long-term (3 month minimum) volunteer program under the principle that children need consistency to learn efficiently.  Little by little, I’ve gathered a box full of books, scissors, markers and a few other supplies to improve our activities.  Shannon and I are working together in the upcoming months to develop a set curriculum with matching lesson plans.  But Mundo Maravilloso has a great beginning and lots of exciting things to come.

–Danielle L. Krautmann

 *If you are interested in learning more about Mundo Maravilloso or receiving a copy of our portfolio, please contact me directly via my email: DanielleLParker [at] gmail [dot] com.   

To many people, Macau means one thing: casinos. This little special administrative region of China that was both the first and last European colony in Asia, makes more money from gambling than Las Vegas. It’s a hot destination for rich mainland Chinese.

To me it was about visiting an anomaly: a territory with a curious history, a city of attractive architectural leftovers, and tasting a cuisine that fuses the best of Portuguese and Southern Chinese.

I got what I came for. Beautiful mosaic-like, pedestrian-only zones leading to churches named Lorenzo, Agostinho, and Domingos. I dined on Portuguese chicken—a Macanese specialty hot pot dish loaded with chicken, potatoes, onions, sausage, and boiled eggs in a mild coconut-based, curry-like sauce. I sat in nighttime squares lit with yellow streetlamps. I sipped good coffee and nibbled Portuguese pastries.

I also examined the other side of Macau tourism. A quick walk through the floor of Wynn Casino gave me the impression of a very serious gambling scene. No drinking—just straight up sobriety, with a little nicotine to fuel the adrenaline. Majority Chinese at baccarat, roulette, poker, and blackjack tables.

There is also today’s Macau, the city that’s 95% Cantonese/Chinese with noisy traffic, bustling markets, and great Cantonese food. A look through Red Market introduced me to dozens of fish and shellfish I couldn’t name in addition to almost every part of pig. Lin Fung Temple, far from the tourist zone in north Macau, was a great place to witness locals lighting insense and making offerings of fruit and hell money. Nearby, Lou Lim Leoc Garden is an exquisite urban sanctuary with ponds, pavilions, miniature trees, and arching bridges. There I saw a woman practicing what looked like Tai Chi with a sword.

St Domingos Church

Detail of Lin Fung Temple

Lighting Insense at Lin Fun Temple

Shellfish at Red Market

Shellfish for sale at Red Market in Macau

Pig’s Blood

A Butcher at Red Market in Macau

A Street Market in Macau

Roasting Pigeons in Macau

A bridge in Lou Lim Leoc Gardens in Macau

10)  Ask GoMad Nomad: When to Visit Jeju Island, South Korea

9)  The Women Divers of Jeju

8 )  Photo of the Week: Cinque Terre

7)  My life in Baños del Inca, Cajamarca, Peru

6)  5 Spectacular Castles to Visit in Ireland

5)  Top 10 German Foods

4)  Pure New Zealand: 5 points of view

3)  Ask GoMad Nomad: India vs. Malaysia

2)  Photo of the Week: Koh Trong, Cambodia

1)  10 Things She Should Know Before Couchsurfing: Tips for Women

 My Picks: Favorite posts of 2011 that didn’t make the Top 10

Interview with a Female Hitchhiker

 
After hitchhiking all over South America, I had a few questions for contributing writer Sally Kay. Most importantly, I wanted to know what it was like to hitch alone as a female.
 

Going Jet-free: Alternatives to Flying

Contributing writer Avery Sumner gives us some of her best ways to avoid the environmentally destructive ways of air travel. Gets you thinking about some fun ways to get around.
 

Photo Essay: The Temples of Angkor

I was really happy with how my photos turned out from the Temples of Angkor in Cambodia. Although they can’t come close to conveying just how spectacular this site is, I tried to capture both the grandeur and the details.
 

Oman: Open roads, open arms, and open wallets

I love publishing articles about exciting places I’ve never been. In this one, Beau Miller takes us around a lesser-traveled country on the Arabian Peninsula: Oman.
 

Machu Picchu: Independently on the Cheap

In this informative article, Noel Lau lets us in on his secret of getting to Machu Picchu without spending a ton of cash, like your average tourist does.
 

5 Reasons Why Malls Rule Singapore

In this post, an admitted mall hater (myself) comes to terms with not only tolerating Singaporean malls, but embracing them.
 

Why Korean is the World’s Most Interesting Language

After visiting Korea for the second time, I felt obliged to tell the world a little about why written Korean is such an ingenious invention.
 

The Forgotten Capital of Siberia: Tobolsk

Nell Rakhimova takes us through her hometown of Tobolsk, which was once the capital of Siberia. Now it’s a forgotten and remote settlement with an interesting history.
 

How to Land a Spot in the Best American Travel Writing Anthology

I’m sure Rolf Potts was at best surprised when he opened up the advanced reader’s copy of this year’s The Best American Travel Writing (2011), scanned the Contents page for his name and discovered no mention of himself whatsoever.

Also, Seth Stevenson.
Ditto, Jeffrey Tayler.
Too, Tony Perrotett.

Things could be worse. I didn’t even make the Notable Travel Writing runners-up page (but Joyce Carol Oates, Pico Iyer, and Ian Frazer did). Perhaps I was looked over for inclusion because the huge wad of online publications I sent to series editor Jason Wilson arrived at a “locked box.” Hm, I thought, “Is Jason giving me the silent treatment?” Boy, was I relieved to discover that the editorial op had just moved into new digs at Drexel University, also home of the cognoscenti-ruled website The Smart Set.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’ve met guest editor Sloane Crosley before at some budget beach resort somewhere: there is something familiar about those soulful eyes on the back cover.

At least, I’m sure, from reading her introduction, that she was sure she made the right choices: all the names looked familiar, but I have to admit the only real travel writer, included among the auteurs, was William T. Vollman, whose book The Atlas really was revolutionary in the literary travel world. When I first read his ambitious book, with its clashing Rorschach images, I wondered if he was some sort of computer-search collage artist. Upon closer inspection I realized he had typed in every single damned word, albeit under a delirium.

Unsurprisingly, Vollman’s “A Head for the Emir” (from Harper’s Magazine) is the standout essay, taking us into the unfamiliar territory of “Kurdistan”—an unstable unofficial nation bordering Turkey, Syria, Iran, and Iraq.

Anyway, Sloane Crosley, author of the acclaimed I Was Told There’d Be Cake: Essays (which was a finalist for the Thurber Prize), can be congratulated for reintroducing us to authors not usually associated with travel magazines. André Aciman’s lead-off dream of following Monet to the villa in which he worked on the Italian Riviera is a hard act to follow. Until we get to Mischa Berlinski’s “Venance Lafrance Is Not Dead,” about the “loup-garou” (werewolves) in Haiti.

But even this is trumped by Téa Obrecht’s wonderful “Twilight of the Vampires,” about the Balkan vukodlak (vampire): “a far cry from that dirty, bloated wanderer of graveyards. . . . as a lover, he has worked hard to overcome his cadaverous locomotion, his ungainly south Slav diction . . . so that the mere sight of his fangs now inspires young maidens to bare their throats of their own accord.”

Other noteworthy reads include Maureen Dowd’s account of etiquette in “A Girl’s Guide to Saudi Arabia,” including “a Barbie-like doll, accessorized with headscarf and abaya.” Plus, Porter Foxes’s “The Last Stand of Freetown,” a wonderful take on the independent country of “Christiana” inside Denmark.

Other reliable tour guides into formulaic unfamiliar terrain include Gary Shteyngard’s comical “Moscow on the Med,” about the influx of pork-eating Russian Jews remaking Israel, and Justin Nobel’s frozen prose capturing “The Last Inuit of Quebec.”

However, it is Pulitzer Prize-winner Annie Proulx’s elegiac “A Year of Birds” which casts the strongest spell. “One bald eagle was in the nest tree, the other flying down-river. The cliff turned the color of a russet apple, and I enjoyed the rare deep orange sunset smoldering under the edge of a dark dirty-sock cloud.” It doesn’t get any better than that, Proulx prose.

If I’ve left anybody out, this is not a comment on their worth for inclusion. Some of the stories are a little unsurprising, but not forgettable, including David Baez’s “The Coconut Salesman,” which I really liked mainly because it was short and sweet.

How to land a spot in the annual anthology The Best American Travel Writers (2012)? Just write for one of the major magazines such as Harper’s, Condé Nast Traveler, The Atlantic, Travel + Leisure, and The New Yorker. Or, a serious paperback literary magazine such as The Missouri Review. Alas, there are no surprise entries from experimental amateur zines inclus. Even so, I predict that I might have a surprise waiting for you in the next issue.

The Best American Travel Writing (2011)

Editor: Sloane Crosley
Series Editor: Jason Wilson
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2011, pp. 255, $14.95
——————————————-
Reviewed by John M. Edwards

John M. Edwards is an award-winning travel writer who has written for CNN Traveller, Missouri Review, Salon.com, Islands, The Expeditioner, and North American Review. He is editor-in-chief of the upcoming annual Rotten Vacations.

Chi Lin Nunnery is an elegant wooden temple built without nails in the Tang style. Adjacent to the temple is the tranquil Nam Lian Gardens, a reconstruction of a Tang-era garden. Stroll on a curving walkway past pavilions, ponds, hills, and sculpted pines. It is a fine example displaying the rich culture of the classical Chinese garden.

The garden is supposed to not only serve as an ideal place to spend leisure time, but to visibly manifest the integration between art and wisdom. The design concept of Nam Lian is focused on a one-way circular touring route intended for quiet contemplation.

All this right in the midst of the great bustle of urban Hong Kong.

If you go:

Nam Lian Gardens and Chi Lin Nunnery is accessible from Diamond Hill MTR station in Kowloon. Use Exit C2 and follow the sign for a 5 min. walk. The Nunnery is open daily 9am-3:30pm and the gardens from 7am-9pm. Both are free.

Text and Photos by Stephen Bugno