If I had a dollar for every time someone told me San Francisco was his or her favorite city in the United States, I could retire comfortably, like, yesterday. The backdrop to ubiquitous 90′s sitcom Full House, San Francisco’s image in popular culture is just as overwhelmingly positive as its reputation among travelers.

I took my fifth trip to the fabled “City by the Bay” a few weeks ago, and I was shocked, upon arriving to the boarding gate for my flight back to Austin, how relieved I felt to be leaving, the personal circumstances of said trip notwithstanding: I kind of hate San Francisco.

Here’s why!

1. The novelty wears off quickly

Hills, row houses and the Golden Gate Bridge, oh my! Part of why I loved San Francisco so much the first time I visited, back in 2004, is because I felt so excited to see iconic sights such as these in flesh after years of having only experienced them via the ether. After a few trips, however, the charm I feel upon hopping onto a street car is no match for the shade the driver throws on me when I ask him to make change for a $5.

2. San Franciscans are rude and snobby

And in San Francisco, bad attitudes among public employees are just the beginning. Nearly everyone I’ve encountered in San Francisco has had some kind of chip on his or her shoulder, from waitresses, to Airbnb hosts, to random people I’ve met on the streets and asked for information. Remember that South Park episode RE: Prius-driving San Franciscans getting high on their own farts? It basically sums up my feelings on the matter.

3. It’s too cold!

With an average yearly temperature of just 59ºF (15ºC), San Francisco is just too fucking cold for me, which says nothing of the perpetual fog, lack of sunshine and cool breezes that tend to blow through. Yes, I know that San Francisco has “micro-climates,” that Oakland and Berkeley are warmer and that the cold is part of the experience. Whatever. Bite me.

4. It’s too expensive!

Pricing data for San Francisco isn’t as readily available as climate data, so in this instance I’m going to have to rely on anecdote, rather than hard facts. But whether you’re being sassed by a spiky-haired waitress at a pretentious breakfast joint, taking a scummy public bus across town or being levied a surcharge for an extra person in your Airbnb apartment, you’re going to pay significantly more than you would anywhere else in the U.S., a premium that may or may not actually be worth it.

5. San Francisco has a major homeless problem

I am not a classist person, and I don’t have an inherent problem with the homeless. But in many areas of San Francisco (I would actually argue most areas) there are more homeless than non-homeless. Now, I’m not sure if that’s to do with San Francisco’s consistent (if cold) climate, freeloader-catering public policy or some other factor of which I’m not aware. But if I’m going to pay $16 for a half-assed eggs benedict, I don’t wanna watch someone shit in public while eating it.

6. The rest of Northern California is much more pleasant

Whether you cross the Golden Gate to Sausalito, head south to bohemian Santa Cruz or drive inland to the Napa Valley, Northern California is a veritable paradise for travelers, which says nothing for the rest of the Golden State. If San Francisco were located in, say, Oklahoma, or South Carolina, I would probably like it more, because it would be the best thing around by a long shot. But part of why I find myself hating San Francisco, the more I travel there, is that it’s really not all that RE: California.

7. The personal circumstances of my last trip to San Francisco

Remember how I shrugged off the circumstances of my recent trip to San Francisco in the intro to this article? Well yeah, I can’t really shrug them off – San Francisco is where I said goodbye to the Australian boy I fell madly in love with when he was passing through Austin, a relationship whose cosmically-tragic unraveling I lamented in a recent blog post. I will forever associate the cold, expensive, homeless-infested streets of San Francisco with the fact that I may never see him again.

When I first began traveling, the of the things I found most difficult was learning how to compare credit cards for travel rewards, to determine which ones provided the best rates, perks and, of course, potential for earning free travel. This has gotten easier over the years, considering how much I’ve traveled, but it can still be a daunting task.

Choosing the best credit card rewards card for you depends on your travel preferences, your spending habits and several other factors that are specific to you. Continue reading to learn more about how to make the right decision and start earning today, no matter which type of traveler you are.

Airline Credit Cards

Some travel rewards credit cards are issued by a specific airline, while others are issued by banks and may be redeemed for travel on any airline. Deciding which of these types of travel credit cards to get is an important decision, and one you should make early on.

If you tend to fly the same airline or airline alliance, choosing an airline rewards credit card not only allows you to earn miles for travel on that airline, but also some other perks I’ll discuss later. If you fly different airlines each time you travel, it’s best to select a travel rewards credit card from a bank.

Credit Card Rates and Fees

No matter how high or low your credit score, most travel credit cards assess an annual fee for membership, as well as an annual percentage rate (APR) that may be higher than the rest of your credit cards.

Since it is difficult to estimate what your APR might be before you’re approved for a particular travel rewards credit card, it is best to make your decision based on how high or low a given card’s annual fee is. If the fee you’ll have isn’t commensurate with the rewards you expect to reap, the card is probably not best for you.

Perks and Promotions

Generally speaking, airline rewards credit cards accrue miles for every purchase made, to the tune of one mile per dollar, pound or euro. One advantage of choosing an airline credit card is that travel-related purchases may accrue mileage at an accelerated rate, sometimes double or triple.

Other perks may exist for using certain travel credit cards. For example, your airline may offer you priority boarding or security if you carry its credit card. Alternatively, your bank may issue you a dining or hotel coupon for use in conjunction with the travel rewards credit card it’s issued to you.

Last week, I happened upon a delightful blog post called “Date a Boy Who Travels.” The post, which I later learned was in response to a similar one published last year, is a whimsical instruction manual that lays out how – and why – to date boys who travel.

I loved this article for many reasons, but most of all because it provides a perspective on boys who travel I’ve never really gotten, always being the boy who travels, never the one who dates him.

When you see something beautiful, he will hold your hand in silence, in awe of the history of where his feet stand, and the fact that you’re with him. He will live in every moment with you, because this is how he lives his life.

My most recent stint as the traveling-boy-you-date illustrates the poetry and the romance of the passage I’ve quoted above, but also the existential rift that separates those who travel from those who usually don’t. (Although for full disclosure, I met my boy-who-doesn’t-usually-travel when he was passing through Austin as part of a trip, and I was on a break between two of mine.)

There was beauty, silence and awe. We spent one afternoon lying in each other’s arms on a park bench, daydreaming about what a life together might look like, and as the scent of Jacaranda blew over us, I felt oddly more satisfied than I had just weeks before, upon scaling the highest waterfall in Africa.

There was hand-holding and history, too. We strolled down the boulevards, bike lanes and alleys of my city, and as I explained the significance of buildings, intersections and the way he looked at me, I wasn’t just narrating the story of who I was before I left it all to travel – we were writing our own.

There was the fact that I was with him, and living in every moment with him. We marveled at the fuchsia trail the sun left in its wake the evening we said goodbye, and I felt more resolve in a single moment of kissing him than I have circling the globe half a dozen times. By the time we parted just minutes later, it was as if a blissful eternity had passed.

But there was also a fundamental dissonance: His “real life” was constrained by geography, circumstance and the notion of the absolute; the sky was the only limit to mine. When we met again before he left the States, there was enough beauty, hand-holding, silence, awe, and living right in the present moment to write the greatest love story ever told, but there was also an airplane waiting for him.

And although we had agreed, in terms that seemed certain to me, that I would soon follow him over the Pacific, his real life, his real job and his increasingly fixed view of reality itself soon rendered them uncertain. The longer we spent apart, the greater the distance between us seemed to grow, and the more impossible it became for him to believe that we could ever be together again.

This is not to say there weren’t real difficulties that might’ve eventually led to the destruction of our relationship, had we decided to pursue one. But the arguments we had, the differences in our perspectives and the thousands of miles that may separate us for the rest of our lives weren’t causes – they were symptoms.

A corporate sector employee, he was more paranoid that his privacy would be compromised when I blogged about him than he was flattered by the fact that I had taken the time to immortalize our story. I live in a world where the line between “public” and “private” is blurred, so I couldn’t empathize with him, even if I did write about him without using his name or any identifying details.

Flying over the ocean is just as within the realm of “normal” for me as going to happy hour or buying groceries is for him, so I couldn’t fathom there being anything to lose in test-driving life together – if it didn’t work out, I would simply leave. But it was easier for him to indulge fear than to entertain hope, so he pulled the plug, and that was that.

So please, date a boy who travels. Trust him to lead you down the right road when you take his hand. Know that when he speaks of your beauty, he’s comparing you to continents, seas and civilizations, not to other boys or girls. Believe him if he tells you you’re everything he’s been searching for.

But understand that conventional wisdom is not conventional or wise to him. Realize that although he disappears behind the boundaries of what you consider to be real when you fly home, the mountains, oceans and political borders between you are no match for his heart and his will. He can’t comprehend letting logistics get in the way of love, because this is not how he lives his life.

Like many traveled, I was shocked and amazed – in the worst possible way – upon arriving to Bali for the first time last year. Where were the picturesque beaches, the relics of migratory Hinduism and the laid-back vibe that drew millions of annual tourists here in the first place?

And, more importantly, where the fuck was Julia Roberts’ cute villa? (I was in search of her sexy Brazilian man, too, but let’s be realistic here.)

The Bali you encounter when you first arrive at Denpasar International Airport couldn’t be further from the one depicted in “Eat, Pray, Love,” from steel-grey waters and trash-covered beaches in Kuta, to the disproportionate numbers of foreigners in could-be-charming places like Seminyak, to the blatant commercialism that has nearly wiped out the semblance of anything local around the island.

The good news is that bits and pieces of Julia Roberts’ Bali are within your reach. Today I’m going to talk about my favorite of them, the Ubud region, which is home to the lush rice terraces, hindu temples and the gives you the opportunity to get up-close and personal with monkeys.

Many Hindu temples sit between the tourist areas of Bali and Ubud, although they are wracked by the influence of modern civilization

The Tegalagang Rice Terraces are a good balance of accessible and picturesque, although more and less scenic rice terraces do exist in Ubud

Friendly locals will try and hustle money out of you in exchange for tours

But it's perfectly easy to walk through the terraces on your own

Once you finished exploring the terraces, sit down for a nice drink or meal – but be prepared to pay for it

After you leave the terraces, visit the Sacred Monkey temple – you'll be in good company

If you're patient and pay attention, you can get a glimpse at more intimate moments the crowds may miss

The Sacred Monkey forest is also home to trees of a pretty sacred variety

If you’ve ever traveled to a country in Southeast Asia, I imagine you’ve seen the phrase “Death for Drugs” (or some variation of it) on an arrival card. I also imagine you have never actually visualized how this situation might play out, in real life.

A fellow passenger on a flight back to US last October made sure that I did. We’d just finished discussing our mutual love for Singapore, when the conversation took a sinister turn.

“If the dogs smell something on you,” he said, with an odd half-smile on his face, “you’re as good as dead. The police won’t even take you to jail – it’s a representative from the casket company, who will make you pick out your final resting place on the way.

“My friend who lives in Singapore has an apartment near the jail,” he continued, “and the sobs of people on death row every Thursday night – they execute you the first Friday after you’re jailed – is almost unbearable.”

Although I would never considering bringing illegal substances into any foreign country, the idea that simply having enough residue of something-or-other on your person or luggage to be sniffed out by a drug dog could result in your execution sent shivers through me. (You no doubt remember my incident with marijuana in Switzerland.)

I fell asleep – and, as you might imagine, had nightmares – soon after he finished his tale, which has left me with more than half a year to ponder the extent to which it is true. Today, it finally dawned on me that I should stop pondering, and start researching, so without further ado, here’s the lowdown on drug laws in Southeast Asia.

The Truth About “Death for Drugs” in Southeast Asia

The man, as it turns out, had been exaggerating a bit: You won’t get executed for having traces of drugs on your luggage upon entering Singapore. The 400 people who’ve been hanged in Singapore on drug charges in the past two decades were trafficking drugs – in other words, transporting large quantities of drugs over the border with the purpose of disseminating them.

The death penalty is also imposed on drug traffickers in Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand and Vietnam, while Cambodia, Laos and the Philippines favor fines, prison time or a combination thereof.

Drug users are punished in most instances as well, and although penalties are generally less severe, it is unlikely to be involved in drugs in Southeast Asia without spending some time in prison and paying a hefty fine.

Learn more about drug laws in Southeast Asia here.

“Happy” Food and Drinks in Southeast Asia

By now, you probably get that you shouldn’t smuggle drugs into Southeast Asian countries, but it also isn’t a good idea to buy and consume them there. And you will have plenty of opportunities to do so: If someone offers you “happy” pizza, a happy milkshake or any other sort of emotive food or drink, politely decline it.

Likewise, and this should go without saying, but you should avoid purchasing raw drugs on the streets while traveling in Asia. More than the vendors of happy food and drinks, “drug dealers” in Asia often work in close proximity with local law enforcement, or in the best case unwittingly under their surveillance.

For many people, Cartagena, Colombia first appeared on the radar at the 2012 Summit of the Americas, when then Secretary of State Hillary Clinton made headlines for dancing and drinking at a local bar called Cafe Havana.

Although I traveled to Cartagena just weeks after the event – and although I am, for what it’s worth, a huge fan of Hillary – I didn’t make a point of visiting Cafe Havana and retracing Clinton’s footsteps.

I did have just as great a time as Hillary did in Cartagena, however, and that’s what this article is all about – how to see the best Cartagena, Colombia has to offer in just three days.

Day 1: The Walled City and the Castle

Looking down one of Cartagena's picturesque streets

Although the Cartagena metro area is huge, both in population and in land area, the portion of the city with which most travelers are concerned – a walled portion of the city, dating back to the 16th century – is very small.

Castillo de San Felipe de Barajas

The good news, if you’re a backpacker, is that all of Cartagena’s popular hostels are located within this part of the city, which makes exploring it extremely easy, whether you do it by day, strolling down bougainvillea-line streets and dining at charming cevicherías, or walk up onto the wall itself in the evening, and use it as a vantage point for watching sunset.

Night sets in from Cartagena's old city walls

The old city is chock full of history – tip: hire one of the official tourist guides near Cartagena’s Clock Tower gate for a half-day walk that feels like a documentary – which is why I recommend capping off the day you devote to exploring it with a visit to Castillo de San Felipe de Barajas, which was commissioned by the Spanish crown and took over 100 years to build.

Day 2: Totumo Volcano and Evening Entertainment

The top of Totumo Volcano

Take in an evening dance performance

Whether you hire a car to get to the volcano, or go on an organized tour with your hotel and hostel, make sure and get back to the city before sunset so you can enjoy a local song and dance performance by the Clock Tower gate. Then, if you’re not too tired from a long day in the sun, head to Cafe del Mar at the northwestern corner of the old city walls to enjoy sunset drinks.

Day 3: Playa Blanca

Playa Blanca – the inspiration for Leave Your Daily Hell's current design!

Enjoy some delicious fresh fruit as you stroll through old Cartagena

An alternative beach option if you have more time – and money – is to head to San Andrés island, which is accessible by plane or a very long boat ride. Because of the distance and cost associated in getting there, however, you should set aside at least a few days if you plan to visit the island.

It’s almost summer in Las Vegas, and luckily for us cheap travelers, some of the summer Vegas discounts have already started. With the world famous Las Vegas pool parties and nightlife venues, summer is by far the best time of year for visiting Sin City.

By now, people have had time to work on those swim trunk and bikini bodies, and since pool parties have started for this year, an inside source says the crowds have never looked hotter. Many of the Vegas hotels have already begun offering Las Vegas discounts for summer 2013, and it’s time to get on them before they’re gone.

We hope you’ve been working on that bikini body (or swim trunks fellas, because no matter what the ladies say, it does matter), because these deals will leave you poolside in Vegas. Here are the top Las Vegas Deals of summer 2013:

1. Escape into Summer Savings at the Mirage with this Vegas deal:

Some May showers may have been putting off travel plans around the country, but Las Vegas is as hot as ever and Vegas deals and hotel discounts only seem to be getting better! The Las Vegas Mirage is offering rooms from $75 per night for a summer escape which includes 25% off at the Cravings Buffet, Buy 1 get 1 free for the Private Oasis Sun, and $3 savings on entry to the Dolphin Habitat and Secret Garden!

2. MGM Grand VIP Suite Promo Offers:

With 20% savings on the MGM Grand hotel suites, rooms start at $80 per night using this Las Vegas promo code. With all of these savings, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to afford to party at Wet Republic at MGM Grand, one of the hottest Las Vegas pool parties around.

Here are some of the can’t miss Vegas pool party events at MGM Grand Wet Republic this summer:

• Calvin Harris on June 22nd at Wet Republic
• Vegas pool party with Tiesto at Wet Republic on June 23rd
• R3Hab at the MGM Grand Las Vegas summer pool party on June 29th
• Aoki at Wet Republic Vegas pool party on Sunday June 30th

3. Two Free Buffets at the Aria Hotel in Vegas plus 20% Off Rooms:

While this Vegas deal may not be best for those trying to fit into that mini dress before a night out or are going to be rocking a bikini by the pool, at least all of the money you save on food means you can afford one of the pool parties! With this Vegas promo code, stay at the Aria and get 20% off rooms plus two complimentary buffets if you book by June 24th! Don’t miss social Sundays at Liquid Pool & Lounge with DJ E-Rock for a Las Vegas pool party that puts the sun into Sunday.

4. Book 3 nights and Stay 4 at the Palms Las Vegas Hotel:

With the Las Vegas deal at the Palms, get one night free if you book three nights through 2013! Book before this offer expires on May 31st, 2013! With the money you save on that 4th night, have no regrets about partying at the Palms pool! Here are some can’t miss Vegas summer pool parties at the Palms pool:

• Ditch Friday featuring Jazzy Jeff with Mark Stylz on June 21st, 2013
• Ditch Saturday featuring DHG with PResto One on June 22nd, 2013
• Palms Pool Sunday featuring Presto One on June 23rd, 2013

5. All Inclusive Vegas Package at the Luxor:

Stay at the Luxor through October, 2013 using this Vegas deal and get rooms, show tickets, buffet passes, nightlife entry and more for $249.99 per night! With the all inclusive deal at the Luxor Las Vegas hotel, save big this summer in Vegas.

Take a look at the Las Vegas discounts page on WeDoItAllVegas.com to access these and other Las Vegas deals and promo codes.

This article was written by Ariel Abbott, Editor of WeDoItAllVegas.com.

So, I talked some shit and named some names yesterday. It was a bit of a low blow, to be sure, and I apologize for broadcasting my message from such a judgmental, self-righteous soapbox.

One of the less put-off commenters noted that I should’ve focused more on the issues at hand in the article with which I took exception, and less on how obnoxious its author was in articulating his perspective, so that’s what I’m going to do today.

To me, the true problem with Ash Clark’s article, “Travel in Egypt – Go Fuck Yourself” was not the sensational way in which it was written, or even how it illustrates, as I argued yesterday, that public trust in travel bloggers is often misplaced. It’s Clark’s assumption: That foreigners who travel to Egypt have a right to be treated a certain way.

Do I believe that Western women who visit Egypt, regardless of their perceived sex appeal, deserve to be harassed, groped or even assaulted? Absolutely not.  But if you’re female, and you travel to a Muslim country whose rate of violence against women is among the highest in the world, a country that may or may not be on the brink of civil war, what else do you expect?

Even if you never plan to travel to Egypt, regardless of your gender, there is a more universal matter at hand here – the attitude with which foreigners, particularly Western ones, travel the world. It is an entitled attitude, and it is an ignorant one. The laws of your home country don’t apply when you cross the border into another, so why do you assume that any of your other preconceived notions should?

I make this characterization of Westerner travelers having repeatedly exemplified it. I mentioned my article about Bali yesterday, but there was also that one about the first time I visited Israel. As rational as my reasons for expecting to be treated well may have been, it was foolish of me to expect a carpet rolled out for me when I had recently visited a country with which Israel is officially at war.

I shouldn’t have been on such a high horse when I posted what I did yesterday because as dozens, or maybe even hundreds of my articles prove, I am ultimately just as guilty of everything substantive I disliked about Ash Clark’s post as he is – and, as I’ve seen time and time again, the vast majority of we travelers-from-first-world countries are.

The real question, apologies once again to you Mr. Clark for having been such an asshole, is not who has the authority to articulate his opinions, and how he should do so.

It’s more fundamental than that: How can we travel with as few expectations as possible and articulating our disappointments without entitlement or ignorance, in a way that actually has the potential to change the reasons underlying them?

Lately, I’ve been through some difficult emotional times. I was embroiled in an intense long-distance relationship, which has consumed most of my resources for the past couple months. Notice I said “was” – it’s over, and I’ll be writing about that at greater length in just a couple weeks.

I’ve been down in the dumps and down on myself, but I’m finally getting back to where I was before I met this person – which, oh yeah, was traveling the world for a living!

Today’s photo essay doesn’t have an underlying narrative or intent. It’s simply a celebration of travel, using eight of my favorite travel photos to illustrate how incredible and diverse our planet is. Enjoy!

Rome, Italy

Sharm el-Shiekh, Egypt

Medellín, Colombia

Yanque, Perú

Bangkok, Thailand

Hogsback, South Africa

Sydney, Australia

Vang Vieng, Laos

I’m a bit of snob when it comes to travel photography. Not because I believe my travel photography is objectively better than anyone else’s, mind you, but because I believe that travel photographers should always prioritize detail, nuance and quality in the images they capture.

Enter the iPhone. On the surface, it’s a travel photographer’s dream – small, lightweight and point-and-shoot. Sure, it’s low quality, but it’s got a bevy of filters, editors and other features that kind manipulate its photos into looking like they’ve been professionally shot. Well, kind of professional.

And that’s the thing about the iPhone when it comes to travel photography: It’s kind of awesome. But it also kind of sucks! Unless something groundbreaking changes RE: iPhone design, you will never see an iPhone photograph on Leave Your Daily Hell, and here’s why.

Technical Limits of the iPhone Camera

Although the iPhone 5 has the most sophisticated iPhone camera thus far – the cameras on the iPhones 4S, 4, 3Gs and (shudder) 3G  are much, much less capable – I’m going to analyze the tech specs of the iPhone 5 camera, for argument’s sake.

The iPhone’s camera resolution is a mere 8 megapixels, which is less than that of the $200 point-and-shoot I was using circa 2007. The clearness of the iPhone’s shots suffers even more when you attempt to zoom, which results in hugely pixellated captures.

Another major disadvantage of the iPhone camera – which also, to be fair, applies to non-smartphone point-and-shoot cameras – is that it isn’t particularly tactile. Every element of control you have over a shot relates to a button on the screen or, worse, a post-processing technique. Your physical connectedness to the act of photography is several hampered when you use an iPhone as a camera.

Advantages of iPhoneography

The obvious main advantage of using the iPhone as a travel camera is how convenient it is. Not only is the iPhone small and lightweight, it’s discreet and always at the ready – it’s easy to sneak an iPhone into places where you “can’t” take photos.

Another advantage of using the iPhone is that what the phone lacks in root technical capabilities, it makes up for with some pretty cool bells and whistles, such as the ability to take panoramas. The iPhone is also capable of HDR, or “high dynamic range” shots, wherein it digitally combines underexposed and overexposed versions of the same picture, to create very dramatic effects.

The iPhone also makes post-processing, from cropping, and correction, to “filters”, a matter of tapping the screen, with apps like Instagram, Hipstamatic and even Photoshop Express for iPhone. The iPhone might not take great travel photos, but you can definitely make its crappy photos look great!

iPhoneography and Travel Blogs

No one knows this better than the Russian tourist who used an iPhone to photograph his stripper-looking girlfriend in exotic locales around the world. But this example notwithstanding, is the iPhone really appropriate as a means of documenting round-the-world journeys followed by thousands or even millions of readers?

When I see fellow travel bloggers posting iPhone photos to their personal photos or fan pages, it kind of makes me cringe. With the continuing death of print media, after all, we’re the “professionals” in this arena. Why would you fly all the way to a remote island, then photograph your amazing seafood dinner with your phone as if you were grabbing pizza down the street?

And that’s another thing: Travel bloggers who practice iPhoneography tends to photograph things that are superfluous. There’s definitely something to be said about the amount of work it takes to haul around a DSLR camera, and to have it at the ready, but each photo that comes from putting in this work is worth 1,000 iPhone photos.

Do You Use the iPhone as a Travel Camera?

I’m an opinionated person, but I’m also a person who loves to be proven wrong. Do you use the iPhone as a camera when you travel? And if so, have you ever taken amazing snaps with it? Leave a comment and put your two cents into this debate.

I’m practically a broken record at this point RE: my love for Thailand, so I apologize to those of you who are already as in love with the Land of Smiles as I am. I’m headed back in just a few weeks, however, so I’ve got Thailand on the mind right now.

One of my only problems with Thailand, as I often mention, is that there are simply too many awesome things to do and places to see in Thailand. So, my goal whenever I write about the kingdom is to make it easier for you to find the truly awesome experiences there.

What follows is a list of my seven favorite things to do in Thailand, which may or may not be the “best” things to do there. Do you have any additions or substitutions to make?

1. Play with tigers

Play with tigers of all shapes and sizes

2. Go island hopping

Hop between islands a long tail boat

3. Get your teeth done

Get your teeth done

4. Explore Bangkok

Explore Bangkok, where ancient Siam meets modern Thailand

5. See a ladyboy show

See a ladyboy show

6. Visit Buddhist temples

Visit Buddhist temples, such as Wat Pho in Bangkok

7. Revel in the kitsch

Travel through Thai cities and towns on a tuk tuk

It should go without saying that people who live in a particular area probably know what they’re talking about, but when myself and two Scandinavian travelers were hiking in Colombia’s Parque Tayrona around this time last year, we wanted to hear nothing of the sort.

“They’re just trying to scare us,” Charlotte, a spunky Dane, exclaimed as she led us back behind the campground at Playa San Juan. “We’ll head out over the other side of the mountain.”

I nodded. “Yeah, they probably think we’re fools, like half the other tourists here.”

“Wait a minute,” said Christian, from Sweden, as we began scaling the first of the boulders at the base of the mountain. “What exactly did they say?”

Charlotte was nonchalant. “Well, they just said it would be a bad idea to go this way, but when I asked them to elaborate, they said no.”

“Maybe there’s a scary jungle monster up there,” I laughed, as we continued on our way up the mountain.

None of us wanted to hear the news the locals were giving us – that it wouldn’t be a good idea to take the “back way” out of Tayrona Park – because (a) The back way was much more direct, as least on the map and (b) The mountain was apparently crowned by a charming old pueblito that dated back to precolonial times.

To be sure, although much of the first half of the hike was strenuous – it entailed scaling boulders of various shapes, sizes and slipperiness – it never seemed, for even an instant, that continuing on would be hazardous to our safety, let alone particularly harrowing.

Within just a few hours, in fact, we had reached what we assumed to be the top of the mountain, and were walking through the pueblito ruins we’d been so excited about seeing.

We were also enjoying a much needed rest: Three hours of not-extremely-tiring hiking and climbing had added up to a relatively high level of fatigue.

“The great news,” Charlotte said confidently, as she placed her water bottle back into her backpack, “is that it’s all downhill from here.”

Just then, a thundering crash rang out, seemingly from all corners of the sky at once. Christian and I exchanged worried glances, but our enthusiastic ringleader would have nothing of it.

“We knew it was going to rain today,” she said, and donned her poncho. “And we came prepared!”

The problem was not that it started to rain; it’s that the rain was so torrential that within just a few minutes, it was affecting our visibility.

This would’ve been fine, had it not been for the fact that the rain also soon washed away the distinction between what was actually a hiking path and what was just dirt. The laneways that had previously been trails quickly became flowing rivers of mud, which were as difficult to make sense of as they were to step in and out of.

And so you see, just moments after confidently reaching the peak of the mountain we’d been warned sternly – but, to our credit, nonspecifically – not to ascend, we were quite literally running for our lives through a seemingly endless jungle, without anything but the occasional “## km remaining” sign to guide our way.

As if we weren’t screwed enough, sprinting toward a destination that may or may not have been located in the direction we were moving, we then heard a loud roar coming from somewhere up ahead of us – it seemed, for a moment at least, that my concerns RE: the jungle monster had been well-founded.

The good news? We ran into some friendly jungle children soon after we heard the second roar. The terrible news? They didn’t seem to speak or understand Spanish, at least not our frenzied, gringo Spanish.

Of course, frenzied gringos trapped in the Colombian rainforest during a monsoon downpour can only be in search of one thing – the exit – so they led us for a few minutes until the path-turned-river began a sharp descent we assumed could only have led to the way out.

Obviously, since I am typing this from the safety of my developed-country home now, you know that these children weren’t leading us to the lair of the monster that may or may not have actually existed and that we did eventually reach the exit. (By “eventually,” I mean after nearly three hours of running, at full speed, down the other side of the mountain.)

The kicker is that when we finally got to within .1 km of the exit, we had to literally wade across an actual river, which was nearly waist high and moving extremely fast. I am frankly shocked that none of us got sucked into it.

I’ve never quite felt a sense of relief like the one that came over me when the fifth or sixth collectivo that passed through the shithole town where Parque Tayrona spit us out had space enough to accommodate us all the way back to Santa Marta, the city where the majority of travelers who visit the park stay.

And I will never again ignore the advice of a local person, no matter how vague or veiled in superstition it seems to be.

A couple weeks ago, I felt a burning desire to reconnect with my past, so I headed to the one place that embodies my past life more than anywhere else in the world: Austin’s SoCo on the Lake apartments, which were known as “Riverside Place” when I lived there during prehistoric times.

The RPA, as I fondly grew to call the complex over the course of the three years I lived there, is a conurbation of rotting roach motels that just happens to sit along the most beautiful stretch of Lady Bird Lake: Half the view is the Austin skyline, the other half a sparkling, rippling surface that seems to extend on forever, all shaded by an impossibly lush canopy of trees.

It was the first place I ever called home as an adult; it’s a huge part of the reason my initial apathy toward America’s current “It” city blossomed into a profound love; it’s where I gave my aging childhood dog the best last years I possibly could; it was the backdrop to my early professional experiments, which led me to the conclusion that “real life” was not for me.

And, consequently, it’s where I made the decision to abandon said real life, although I was kicking and screaming all the while.

As I sat on “the” picnic table (there is only one picnic table at Riverside Place, and it is iconic), I looked up onto my former balcony, and the scene replayed.

“How can I leave this behind?” I whimpered to my friend Grace, as I digitally signed the document that would seal my fate RE: moving to China to teach English for a year. “The tree line, the sunrise over the lake, the memories, this fucking view?”

“And the roaches?” she laughed, and rolled her eyes. “The roaches, Robert!

“I mean, and even if they go away – and they won’t,” she continued, without giving me a chance to object, “are you really gonna give up the whole world for this place? It’s beautiful, but you’re gonna miss so much if you stay here.”

As a warm spring breeze blew through my hair, down there on the picnic table nearly four years later, I wondered what the inside of my former one-bedroom looked like – surely, the new tenant hadn’t thought to create a color scheme of neon primary colors.

I then directed my attention toward a pair of trees that had always been the focal point of my attention whenever I sat out on by the lake. They were intertwined; it appeared they’d been growing together for most of their lives.

The juxtaposition of the trees – they were different species, one of which had white bark and the other black – was thought-provoking to say the least. Was it nature’s endorsement of interracial marriage? A metaphor for the necessary, complementary co-existence of light and dark within relationships? Or just a beautiful accident?

I pondered these questions – and, indeed, the person I had been when I lived at a place where I was technically now trespassing – as I meditated there, in a spot where I’d previously sat on no less than a thousand prior occasions. My location wasn’t all that connected that particular moment in my life to the night I signed my teaching contract with the school in China.

A few weeks ago, you might remember, I made the acquaintance of a magical young man from Australia, when he was passing through my city during the SXSW festival. (You might also remember that I flew out to Las Vegas to spend more time with him, and to explore if we might have more than a holiday fling in our future.)

As I sat on the lake taking in the breeze a couple weeks ago, I was under the impression that I would soon be headed to Australia to see this man. It was just as uncertain that anything would come of our rendezvous as it had been that my move to China would launch me into a life of location-independence, but the anticipation, the potential and the tension of both situations seemed similar.

I was practically smug as I stood up from the picnic table and walked back toward my bike, so convinced by the parallels I had drawn with the past – among other seeming certainties I’d deduced – that I didn’t so much as entertain an alternative future for myself. The continuity of tomorrow with yesterday and today was written in the dust of the footprints I’d left behind.

Only when I learned, just a few days ago, that I would not be traveling to Australia to meet this magical young man, did I understand that I’d completely missed the message the water, the tree canopy and the echoes of my long-dead dog’s barks oscillating between blades of grass had been trying to send me.

Having traveled to nearly 50 countries at just 28 years of age, I’m obviously a proponent of traveling young. Perhaps surprisingly (or perhaps not, depending on who you are), I’m the child of parents who have always highly discouraged me from “wasting” my money on travel.

To me, the benefits of traveling in your 20s hugely outweigh the potential disadvantages, although certain risks do exist. But if you’re in your 20s and want to travel – and particularly, if your parents or other loved ones are as discouraging as mine were during my early 20s – this post should prove inspirational to you.

Travel vs. School/Work

The leading factor that dissuades most young people from traveling is a feeling of commitment to school and/or work. This is due as much to underlying assumptions – that shirking “responsibility” (school or work) in favor of “leisure” (travel) is frivolous – as it is to economics: Students and young people who haven’t worked a lot often lack the financial resources to travel!

Some young people, on the other hand, feel the need to “start their careers” before traveling, which gives them a feeling of security, be it illusory of real. There are two problems, generally speaking, with this outlook. The first is that the further into your career you get, the harder it will be to take the time needed to travel extensively. I’ll get to the second in just a moment.

My advice for young people who want to travel is this. Get a job in an industry or sector that is lucrative, but doesn’t require a long-term time commitment. Service industry jobs in restaurants and cafés are great for this, as are classroom jobs teaching English overseas. Or, you could do like I did, and become location-independent!

The Travel Thirst

The second reason “waiting” to travel can be problematic is that, simply put, the more “settled” into your life you get, the less motivated you will be to step outside your comfort zone, including to travel. The so-called “travel thirst” is generally more pronounced among younger people, although exceptions obviously do exist.

Practically speaking, traveling while you most want to travel has many implications. You’ll go to more off-the-beaten-path destinations that you would visit otherwise (say, Myanmar instead of Vietnam or Thailand), do more outlandish things when you get there (how does hiking up the world’s second-highest waterfall sound?) and devote more time to travel than you might do later in life.

Another advantage of traveling while you’re young, and when your travel thirst is strong, has to do with economics – the more you want to travel, the harder you’ll work to finance your travels!

Travel and Physical Fitness

Yet another advantage to traveling in your 20s is that the younger you are, the more fit and energetic you tend to be. Again, I realized that there are exceptions to this rule (as much because of fit older people as because of extremely unfit younger people), but the fact remains that you’re only young once, and young bodies generally travel better than their older counterparts.

Building on what I mentioned in the last section, traveling while fit and energetic will motivate you to complete more physically-demanding activities while traveling, whether you hike, bike, rock climb or even jump off cliffs.

Being fit also affords you more travel stamina, allowing you to travel for longer periods at a time, and also to fit more activities into each day, thus getting the most out of each trip.

Travel as a Child-Free Person

Much has been made of “solo travel” in recent years, particularly on this blog. Of course, I would never knock travel with a friend or romantic partner!

I would also never knock traveling with a child – some of my fellow travel bloggers have practically made this an art – but I do think that traveling before you have children, whether you have a partner or not, is easier than after you have them.

Since people in the 20s are, generally speaking, more likely to be child-free, this is just one of the many advantages that exist to traveling while in your 20s.

Starting in the 13th century, the city of Cusco, in modern-day Perú, was the capital of the Inca Empire. Although Spanish conquistadors erased much of the Inca influence on Cusco when they arrived in 1533, the city nonetheless remains an important regional hub, most notably for foreign tourists who want to visit Machu Picchu, the fabled “Lost City of the Incas.”

Whether you trek the iconic “Inca Trail” to the lost city, or use Cusco as a base for exploring other attractions in the region, Cusco is an absolutely must-visit if you plan to spend any time in Perú – if only for the ceviche on offer at its central market!

Cusco and Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu is popular for a reason

Cusco’s main claim to fame is that it sits in close proximity to Machu Picchu, the so-called “Lost City” of the Incas which was actually built more recently than Cusco itself. One of the most popular sights in all of South America, Machu Picchu attracts hundreds of thousands of tourists per year.

When I visited Cusco in March 2011, I traveled to Machu Picchu independently, using a combination of buses, taxis and hiking on foot. This option is the most affordable option for visiting Machu Picchu, but it’s definitely not the most popular one.

The Inca Trail

Take time to greet some of Machu Picchu's permanent residents

Due to concerns over damage or even destruction to the trail, the Peruvian government has limited the number of people who can access the trail each day, which causes it to book up quickly. If you are interested in trekking the Inca trail, you should book as far in advance as possible.

The Sacred Valley of the Incas

The Sacred Valley isn't called that for no reason

The most popular attraction of the Sacred Valley is, without a doubt, the Moray Inca Ruins, which can best be described as a descending ring of concentric circles built into the ground. Its origins are unknown – I assumed, upon walking down into it, that it was some sort of amphitheater – but it’s an absolute marvel to behold.

The Moray Inca Ruins

If you’ve got a whole day to devote to the Sacred Valley (and, for your sake, I hope you do) I recommend taking a bus to the town of Maras, and making the 8-mile trek through the valley to Moray. It’s more than worth it!

Exploring Cusco City

Much of today's Cusco is achingly modern, but it's still a great place to base yourself

You're sure to encounter some friendly faces during a walk through Cusco

Enjoy some delicious ceviche in Cusco's central market

A word of advice, however: Take it easy! Like Machu Picchu itself, Cusco sits at a high enough elevation that it’s very easy to succumb to altitude sickness.

With friendly people, great food, a diverse range of destinations and an extremely low price-point, Thailand is my favorite place in the world to travel. I’ve visited the kingdom on five separate occasions so far, and have plans to return again in a few months (albeit, mostly, for dental work).

If you’re pondering a trip to Thailand, but don’t know where to start – or, end, for that matter – this sample Thailand itinerary is a great place to begin, particularly if you can devote at least two weeks to your trip.

Bangkok

Chaotic Bangkok mixes ancient and modern in the most colorful ways

The Thai capital Bangkok is where you’re almost certain to arrive in Thailand – it’s home to Suvarnabhumi, the country’s largest international airport – and although conventional tourist wisdom says to avoid spending too much time in this huge, congested city, I urge you to consider otherwise.

The Grand Palace is one of Bangkok's top tourist destinations

Cumulatively, I’ve spent over four months in the Thai capital, but you can see the best of Bangkok in just three days if you’ve got time constraints. Experience temples like Wat Pho and the Grand Palace, to vibrant districts like Khao San and Silom, to Bangkok’s glitzy, glamorous shopping malls. And, of course, Bangkok’s trademark urban chaos!

Got a little more time? Check out my article on alternative Bangkok destinations.

Suggested time in Bangkok: 3-5 days

Chiang Mai and Northern Thailand

Chill at at Doi Suthep Temple, in Chiang Mai

Tiger Kingdom near Chiang Mai lets get you get up-close and personal with tigers

Like temples? Doi Suthep sits quite literally in the clouds. Want to get your picture taken with a tiger? You can get up-close and personal with big cats of all sizes in the vicinity of Chiang Mai. What’s best is that you can squeeze all your Chiang Mai activities into a day.

Stark-white Wat Rong Khun temple is located in Chiang Rai

Chiang Mai is the principal city of northern Thailand, but it’s by no means the only place to go. You could head to Chiang Rai, for example, the second-largest city in northern Thailand, or, to scenic Pai, which is nearby a huge national park.

Suggested time in Chiang Mai/Northern Thailand: 3-7 days

The Islands

Enjoy a relaxing swim in the islands

Or, just watch an incredible sunset

Aside from Phuket, popular Thai islands include Koh Samui, Koh Chang and Koh Phagnan, where the famous “Full Moon” parties are held each month. Looking for more idyllic, less crowded beaches? Head to Koh Mak (which is near Koh Chang, of the southeastern coast of Thailand), or Koh Kradan, located a couple hours south of Phuket in the warm, tropical Andaman Sea.

If you have a short amount of time, I suggest you find an island that’s right for you, and camp out there for the duration of your trip. If you’ve got more time and a sense of adventure – long-tail boats are not for the faint of heart! – you might want to spend a few days island hopping.

Suggested time in the islands: 3-7 days

Other Thai Destinations

See an amazing ladyboy show at Tiffany's Show, in Pattaya

You can go west of Bangkok to Kanchanaburi province, for example, and see the iconic River Kwai, huge Buddhas and yes, more tigers! Alternatively, you could head to sex tourism capital Pattaya, even if it’s just to see the ladyboy performance at Tiffany’s Show.

Cambodia and Laos

Have even more time? Travel to a neighboring country! You can travel to Cambodia, for example, by a combination of train and private taxi, and to Laos by train all the way. (And you can use Leave Your Daily Hell’s Cambodia and Laos travel guides to help you once you’re there!)

Have you ever planned a trip to someplace fabulous far in advance and spent months fantasizing about how wonderful it will be once you get there, only to find that even days or weeks seem to pass like grains of sand through an hourglass? If you answered “yes,” I have good news and I have better news.

The good news is that you’re not alone – the phrase “time flies when you’re having fun” wasn’t coined for no reason! But the better news is that even if time does fly when you’re on the road, you don’t have to sit idly by while it does: Simply choose to be “mindful” when you travel.

So, what is mindfulness?

Simply put, mindfulness is the practice of becoming actively aware of both yourself and your surroundings, with the ultimate goal of being totally present in every moment and completely attune with reality at any moment. When you are mindful, greed, hatred – and, most importantly, delusion – evade you.

Mindfulness is an important concept in many Eastern religions, such as in Buddhism, where is it the seventh element of the Noble Eightfold Path, which leads to the cessation of suffering and the achievement of self-awareness. The goal of mindfulness is to become so aware of your perception of reality that you can actually control it.

Mindfulness is a sort of mental fitness, and like physical fitness activities, it requires constant, disciplined practice. I came upon this YouTube video last week, which not only provides more information about mindfulness and its benefits, but includes a simple exercise to get you started on the path toward mindfulness.

“So wait a minute,” you’re probably asking. “How, again, does this relate to travel?”

I’m glad you asked! Imagine, for example, that you have been planning a long hike through, say, Colombia’s Tayrona National Park, for the past few months. You know each day’s itinerary so well that you don’t even have to consult your notes when you arrive, which causes you to barrel through the hike on auto-pilot, almost passively.

When you are mindful of your actions, you are actively aware of everything you’re thinking and doing. This can be as simple as saying “left, right, left, right” to yourself, silently, as you hike through the jungle, focusing on your in and out breaths and their frequency as you work up more of a sweat, or even on making mental notes on all the flora and fauna you observe.

Time might still seem to pass rather quickly, as it tends to do when you’re having fun. When you are mindful, you don’t let any moment simply pass you by – you see, feel, hear, smell and taste each moment before it leaves you!

Mindfulness is, again, a practice, so it’s best to start while you’re at home, so that you can be “fit” enough to put it to the test during the spectacular experiences you’re certain to have. The video I posted above is a great starting point. You can also visit a local Buddhist temple, yoga center or meditation hall for more information – mindfulness is becoming more popular by the day!

There are even places in the world where you can go on mindfulness retreats! One place I went and highly recommend is the New Life Foundation, located near Chiang Rai, Thailand. You can click here to learn more about the great work New Life does.

Have you ever practiced mindfulness during travel?

Aruba is a very small but very picturesque island located just north of Venezuela. It is a highly popular tourist destination thanks to the always-gorgeous weather, cool turquoise water and white sand beaches located on the southwest side of the island. The northeast coast is a bit harsher, featuring rough water and rocky beaches.

It is always sunny and hardly ever rains, but cool ocean breezes keep things pleasant. The economy thrives on tourism, so there are plenty of fabulous hotels and attractions to keep you entertained on your holiday.

Aruba is perfect for a holiday whether that’s an all inclusive holiday to Aruba or a self-catering holiday, be sure that you’ll have one of the best holidays of your life.

What to bring

Going to Aruba is like taking any other trip to the Caribbean- due to the weather, you are going to want to pack lightweight clothing that breathes well. Sun cream, sunglasses and wide-brimmed hats are also essential to protect your skin and keep you comfortable.

Swim trunks are necessary, as well, because you will probably be spending most of your time either on the beach or by the pool. Beach wear should only be worn at the beach or the pool, though- many restaurants require semi-formal attire for dinner, so pack accordingly.

What to do

Aruba is an island paradise, so you are probably going to spend most of your time in or around the water. Baby Beach is perfect for a relaxing swim because the water does not get any deeper than five feet, perfect for learning how to snorkel or playing with children. Out in the deeper water there are multiple shipwrecks that make for excellent scuba excursions.

Back on land, there are plenty of great historical sites to be visited, including ancient churches and lighthouses and plenty of incredible rock formations. Since the island is so small, most of these activities can be done in a single day.

Getting around Aruba

The only two methods of getting to Aruba are by plane or boat. There is only one airport on the island, called the Reina Beatrix International Airport, from which a taxi or rental car will be able to take you straight to your hotel.

Cruise ships dock at a convenient location which puts travellers right into downtown Oranjestad, the capital of Aruba. Since the island is so small, the best way to get around is by taxi or bus, the latter of which is the cheapest option for getting around the island.

Safety

Aruba, unlike certain other Caribbean destinations, is a very safe place both during the day and night. The only place that should be avoided is the Valero Refinery, but since this is not a tourist destination anyway, it should never be an issue.

All of the food on the island, both from chain and local restaurants, is safe to eat, not to mention delicious. Local water is also safe to drink, so you don’t have to worry about packing your own bottled water. If something does happen to you on your stay, don’t worry- the state of the art local hospital will take great care of you with their modern equipment and highly-trained staff.

William Butler Yeats once said, “In Ireland, this world and the world we go to after death are not far apart.” Ireland has certainly seen its share of tragedy, from famines to wars to strife between Catholics and Protestants.

Since death was historically such a part of life in Ireland, consider spending part of your domestic holiday visiting two prehistoric cemeteries. Carrowmore in County Sligo and Loughcrew in County Meath are two of Ireland’s oldest resting places for the dead. Enjoy the hospitable accommodations at Sligo hotels before setting off on your journey to the tombs of old.

The Megalithic Cemeteries of Ireland

The grand stone megalithic cemeteries of Ireland number into the thousands and date back to as early as 4000 B.C. Megalithic grave chambers, commonly called “cairns,” are artificial and freestanding caves created from slabs of stone. The chambers are then covered by heaps of stones serving three purposes: to stabilise the structure, to visually define the monument and to provide a step from which to gaze at the horizon.

The chambers were oriented to heavenly bodies, particularly the sun and the moon. Some cemeteries hold very few bones, suggesting prehistoric Irish utilised cremation to dispose of remains. Still other experts, like archaeologist Richard Bradley, suggest the cairns had a ceremonial significance as well as a purpose as interment chambers.

Carrowmore, County Sligo

Carrowmore is Ireland’s largest megalithic cemetery. Once consisting of over 200 stone mounds, the ravages of the elements as well as academic looting have reduced the number of identifiable tombs to around 50. According to legend, Carrowmore was created after the Battle of Moytirra, where the Tuatha De Danann defeated the Fir Bolgs. Listoghill, the central monument, dates back to 3600 B.C.

Carrowmore lies southeast of Knocknarea, which is thought to contain the largest unopened Neolithic tomb in Ireland. According to historians, Knocknarea was a place for rituals and also served as a meeting ground. Knocknarea has several nicknames including, “Meave’s Cairn” and “Hill of the Executioners.” In Primrose Grange on Knockarea’s slopes, scientists have carbon-dated material back to 7490 B.C.

The remaining tombs in Carrowmore consist of small-passage tombs and dolmens. Passage tombs are passageways surrounded by stones consisting of one or more graves while dolmens are two large stones capped with another large stone usually housing only one grave. One of Carrowmore’s largest tombs is also one of the earliest versions of the passage tomb, created in a cruciform shape.

A restored cottage on the grounds serves as a visitor’s centre and a 45-minute tour of the cairns costs three euros. Take Bus Eireann from Sligo town to Carrowmore every day except Sunday. You can also follow R292 toward Strandhill from the town centre.

Loughcrew, County Meath

The Loughcrew Cairns have another name: the Hill of the Witch. According to legends, the witch jumped from hill to hill, dropping stones from her apron that formed the cairns. After she jumped to three hills she started to jump to the fourth where dropping a final group of cairns would give her great power. Instead, she fell and was killed. Supposedly, she was buried on Patrickstown Hill where she died.

Loughcrew was built around 4000 B.C. and some speculate the cairns, in addition to serving as tombs, may also comprise the world’s oldest calendar. Some archaeologists even believe Loughcrew may hold the world’s oldest existing dwellings.

Visitors to Loughcrew will find two groups of cairns. The first group, Carnbane West, contains about 15 cairns. One of these, Cairn L, is roofed and covered with symbolic carvings. Carnbane East contains another roofed cairn, Cairn T, featuring beautiful Neolithic carvings. On both the vernal and autumnal equinoxes, locals gather in Cairn T to see the sunlight illuminate the chamber and the carvings. Unfortunately, Loughcrew’s exposed cairns have been eroded by acid rain — which has destroyed many of the carvings.

To get to Loughcrew, contact Bus Eireann or take R163 to find Loughcrew about 3 kilometres (8 miles) east of Oldcastle.

About the Author: Owen Mallon hunts ghosts, visits cemeteries and goes to great lengths to commune with the dead. He is working on a book about megalithic cemeteries in the British Isles.

Although they are officially part of Spain and thus, the E.U., the Canary Islands’ location off the coast of Africa makes them feel much more remote and exotic than they might otherwise seem. This is particularly the case for Lanzarote, the closest of the islands to the European mainland.

Don’t let how easy it is to find flights to Lanzarote on fly.co.uk fool you: Lanzarote is an entirely different world, from its idyllic beaches, volcanic landscapes and warm hospitality. The best part? With a mean annual temperature of 22° C, this “Island of Eternal Spring” makes a perfect escape 365 days per year.

Lanzarote Beaches

Lanzarote is an island, so it probably doesn’t come as much of a surprise that it’s home to amazing beaches. What’s unique about Lanzarote’s beaches is their sheer diversity.

Some Lanzarote beaches, for example, have sugar-white sand, such as  San Bartolomé, while others like Haría have a black, volcanic sand. Likewise, while beaches like Playa Blanca and La Graciosa boast tranquil waters that are great from swimming, Tenajo and Teguise beaches are surfers’ paradises.

Volcanoes in Lanzarote

Like the rest of the Canary Islands, Lanzarote is originally of volcanic origin. But don’t be afraid of an impending blast: This simply makes for a more exciting holiday in Lanzarote.

The centerpiece of Lanzarote’s volcanic tourism is Timanfaya Natural Park, which you can literally walk among the volcanoes. Although these volcanoes are technically “active,” they haven’t erupted since the 18th century – you’re safe!

Lanzarote Weather

Known in Spanish as La Isla de la Eterna Primarvera, or “Island of Eternal Spring,” Lanzarote’s volcanic sand is a pleasant place to plant your toes all-year round: The average annual temperature is a balmy 22°C.

Lanzarote winters almost never see freezing temperatures, although you should pack a jacket in the event of the occasional cool night. Summer temperature can extend well into the 40s, perfect for basking on beach during the day, and partying throughout the warm, sultry night.

Train travel has always allured me, in spite of the fact that I grew up in one of the countries in the world with the lowest rail ridership –or maybe because of it. There’s an ease, a sophistication and a romance to the railways you simply can’t find traveling any other way.

I’ve made a point of traveling by train whenever possible the past several years, even when it is of significant inconvenience: A 13-hour trip from the Lao border  to Bangkok, Thailand back in 2010 springs to mind. During this period, I’ve been struck by particular railway stations around the world.

Some are downright beautiful, perfectly representing important periods of art and architecture, while others are simply perfectly suited to the cities and countries where they’re built. They’re all quite different, however: I can’t claim that this is a list of the best or best-looking railway stations in the world – they’re just my favorites!

Victoria Terminus in Mumbai, India

Victoria Terminus

Oriente Station in Lisbon, Portugal

Oriente Station

Hua Lamphong Station in Bangkok, Thailand

Hua Lamphong Station

The Train Graveyard in Uyuni, Bolivia

The Train Graveyard

Flinders Street Station in Melbourne, Australia

Flinders Street Station

Ramses Station in Cairo, Egypt

Ramses Station

There aren’t many April showers in Las Vegas, unless you count getting splashed at the pool parties, but May flowers will definitely be in bloom if you mean all the chicks with floral bikinis laying poolside in Las Vegas. Spring and summer are the best times to visit Sin City as the Las Vegas pool season is in full swing.

As a budget Vegas traveler, however, pool season can do some damage to the bank account. Luckily, we’ve got the scoop on the hottest Las Vegas deals for summer 2013 so any Vegas traveler can enjoy the Las Vegas summertime without breaking the bank. Here are our top picks for Las Vegas promo codes and deals this summer:

Visit www.earlyvegas.com/promo_codes.html to access the following summer Las Vegas promo codes:

1. Mandalay Bay Beach is Open – Cabana Credit & Discounts!

Book using the Mandalay Bay promo code for Mandalay Bay Beach and not only access the lazy river, sand beach, Beachside Casino, and wave pool, but you’ll also get a $50 credit for a cabana! On top of experiencing Las Vegas poolside luxury in the cabana, vegas vacationers with this promo code also get $25 in Sand Dollars (credit at the beach) and $4 savings on a specialty drink with souvenir glass at Crossroads at House of Blues in Las Vegas. This Vegas special expires on September 1st, 2013…so book your Vegas summer deal before it’s too late!

2. Rates just Slashed for July in Vegas at the Monte Carlo Hotel Las Vegas

Stay in Las Vegas during July at the Monte Carlo and get 20% off rates! WIth this Vegas promo code, rooms start at $48/night…so even cheap travelers can afford Las Vegas. Plus, since a Las Vegas summer trip isn’t complete without some action by the pool, those who use this Vegas deal also get a Pool Resort Credit of $50! This promotion is valid for rooms from July 1st to July 30th, 2013 on available dates.

3. Cabana Package at the Palms Las Vegas

Stay at the Palms in their one bedroom suite for 2 nights in Vegas this summer and get a Cabana reservation! Rooms start at just $69/night using this Palms Las Vegas promo code, and the offer runs until July 31st, so book soon before Vegas summer is up!

4. Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Rehab Pool and Room Package

This Las Vegas hotel promo code is for all those vegas pool party people out there. With rooms starting at $55/night, this Hard Rock Hotel & Casino package includes 2 wristbands for entry to the Rehab Pool Party this summer until September 1st, 2013.

5. Caesars Palace Package – Go Get Wet

With the Go Get Wet Caesars Palace promo code, Las Vegas visitors get a food and drink credit by the pool for $25 with their 2 nights stay! There’s no better way to enjoy Sin City than by enjoying the sun with a nice cold beverage in hand…and some grub to soak up the booze! This offer expires April 30th, 2013 so book ASAP!

This article was written by Ariel Abbott, Editor of EarlyVegas.com

Have you ever been under the illusion that the rules somehow don’t apply to you? I was definitely in such a mindset when I arrived in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, back in August of 2010.

I’d just set off on the road indefinitely, having left my job teaching English in China for a life of location-independence. I was only about a month into my journey, but after all I’d overcome to get there, I didn’t think anything could stand in my way.

Certainly, not a little monkey wearing pajamas.

“I wouldn’t photograph him if I were you,” my friend Refie urged me. In spite of how much I respected him – we barely knew one another, but his family had agreed to host me during my trip to Malaysia – I found myself annoyed by his nagging, not to mention baffled.

I unlocked my lens and zoomed in close on the adorable little critter. “Why do you say that? Is he going to try and steal my camera?”

Before Refie could respond, however, I felt a heavy hand clamp down on my shoulder. “No, but I am!”

I turned around to see a man, who didn’t look particularly different than any of the other men shuffling through the busy street market – except, of course, for the fact that he was practically foaming at the mouth with rage.

“That is my monkey,” he ripped the camera from around my neck, and held it up high over his head, “and you can’t photograph him without paying me.”

I turned back to Refie, my heart pounding, my palms sweating. “Is that really his monkey?”

“The guy’s kind of an institution here,” Refie nodded.

Only a few seconds had passed since the man stole my camera from me, but all kinds of emotions were going through my mind. Well, mostly fear. Would he destroy my camera? And, once he was done with that, would I be next?

I decided to play it cool, although I feared the worst. “Can I please have my camera back?”

“Delete those pictures,” he said, and moved the camera – which he placed around his neck for collateral – in front of me. “Now! Delete them, or I smash this, and your face!”

My fears confirmed, I flipped through the dozen or so photos I’d taken of the monkey, then pressed the “Trash Can” button after viewing each of them.

I scrolled back the other way to show the monkey man I’d complied with his rules. “They’re gone, see? Can I have it back now?”

He practically threw the Nikon at me, and slapped me upside the head. “Little bitch – don’t come back here again!”

Shaken, and also a bit stirred, I frantically scurried away from the scene of the near-crime. It took me a moment to locate Refie, who’d long before (well, relatively, considering again that all this chaos transpired in a matter of moments) escaped to spectating distance.

“You told me so,” I put my arm around my friend, “I get it.”

Ever compassionate, Refie didn’t mention a thing of the sort. “I’m just glad you’re OK – sorry about the photos.”

“Why are you sorry?” I smiled wide, and directed Refie’s attention to my camera screen, where I displayed a proverbial money shot of the little primate.

His jaw dropped open as we walked away from the street market and toward the Petronas Twin Towers. “How did you manage that?”

“I flipped through the pictures quickly as I deleted them,” I explained, “and made sure to flip past this one. When I ‘showed him’ that they were all deleted, I simply went the wrong way back into my photos.”

Refie sighed. “Hm, that’s clever. Or dishonest.”

“I learned my lesson, I think,” I said, and placed my lens cap back on – I was going to abstain from photography for a hot minute. “I think I’ve been under the impression lately that I know everything, but I didn’t know that people like this guy – who, let’s face it, is probably among the bottom 1, maybe 2 per cent of dangerous people in the world – exist.

“So, I must’ve known, like, less than nothing before now. And now I know nothing,” I brought my camera up once more, and glanced fondly at my monkey picture – the only one that survived the incident. “Well, except for how to con a con man.”

I’ve tried many times to articulate precisely how my travel has affected my political viewpoints and my reaction to world events, but those pieces usually end up in the trash – the scope is simply unmanageable.

The recent Boston bombing, however, has perfectly exemplified how at odds my views seem to be with those of the masses. I know this isn’t a political column, but I hope some of you will hear me out anyway.

As last week progressed, everyone I knew suddenly had a personal connection to the city of Boston. Some had a “friend” who was in close proximity to the bombing when it happened, while others had considered attending school at BU, or were running a marathon at some undefined point in the future – any excuse, it seems, to claim a part of the pain of the bombing as their own.

And also the pleasure: Many a triumphant social media status update rang out, once news had broken that the second suspect – the first was dead – had been taken into custody alive. The bloodthirstiness was palpable, as if the one living suspect had personally wronged each and every American.

When it was revealed that both of the suspects had been connected to the Chechnyan liberation movement, although the specific mechanics were as of yet unknown, the vitriol intensified. How could they bring their war to America?

Meanwhile, a battle cry was sounding over the airwaves, across the Internet and even on the unseasonably cool breeze that blew through Austin, Texas. Some shouted for justice, others for retribution, others for solidarity, but “we” all shared one belief in common: That “they” had committed a wrong, and it had to be righted by “us.”

Wait, isn’t that the same sentiment the bombers harbored? And the 9/11 hijackers? And the kamikazes at Pearl Harbor? And the armies of the Confederacy, and of the Union, and of the British who sought to deprive America of its independence when Boston was a brand new city?

Isn’t it the reason why, after 5,000 years of conflict, Arabs and Jews hold the fate of their world in the hands, over a piece of land the size of New Jersey, and what women and men who feel unfulfilled by their partners use to justify their decisions to cheat?

Isn’t it why wealthy whites in South Africa build electric fences around their homes to keep out the poor blacks, who are going to burglarize them anyway? Isn’t it how Anders Brievik justified the massacre of dozens of people as a means of protesting the assault of Islam upon Norway?

All human conflict occurs because of “this” reason. It is always the same reason – and it is always the same war.

It is the war of me against you, of me against myself and of all ourselves against our egos. It is as much a war of death as a war of life, an existential one as much as it as a war of God consciousness. It is a war that is un-winnable and un-loseable; like the much-lampooned “War on Terror,” it is an indefinite war.

We must choose to wage it – like all wars, it is war of choice – and it’s one I’m no longer going to allow myself to fight.

What about you?

One of the primary objectives of my trip to Egypt was to sail the Nile on a traditional boat known as a felucca, an activity that had been recommended to me by my friend Maria of LatinAbroad. And sailing on a felucca did not, as you’re about to see, disappoint.

If you’re also in Egypt (or will be there soon) and want to take a felucca trip, you have two options for doing so: Booking a trip in advance, via a hostel in Cairo or Aswan; or simply turning up at the docks in Aswan, and speaking to a felucca captain to see if he’s got room. (The latter option can be tricky though, especially if you don’t know what a felucca looks like!)

For now, no matter your past, present or future felucca plans, enjoy these photos of my journey up the Nile via felucca.

Looking back on Aswan after the felucca set sails – goodbye!

Our patriotic felucca captain – not all Egyptians hate Americans!

Some beaches along the southern Nile are home to traditional Nubian-style villages

Other Nile beaches, on the other hand, are more serene and unspoiled

Meals onboard the felucca are simple but delicious, not to mention relaxing

Sleeping quarters onboard the felucca

Watching sunset from the felucca is worth the price of admission alone

I consider my decision to teach English abroad the best one I’ve made in my life, and not just because teaching English in China allowed me to add professional experience to my résumé in a way that would’ve been impossible in the recession-ravaged U.S.

When I began teaching English in China, I started earning significantly more than my cost of living, and used that money traveling to exotic destinations like Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam, which were suddenly nearby.

It was also during my stint in Shanghai that I began moonlighting in journalism, starting with a gig at a local blog, then branching out to an international media outlet and, eventually, an online gig that allowed me to become location-independent, travel the world and grow Leave Your Daily Hell into the industry-leading travel blog it is today.

In no uncertain terms, teaching English in China transformed my life, and set the foundation for all the great things that came after it. If I hadn’t moved to China to teach English, I literally don’t know where I would be today.

If you’ve considered teaching English overseas, but aren’t sure whether or not it’s right for you, read on to learn about the good, bad and the ugly of working abroad as an English teacher.

Is Teaching English Easy?

One of the most common responses I receive from people when I tell them I taught English abroad is “well, that must’ve been easy.” Unfortunately, this couldn’t be further from the truth – and I say this as someone who took a completed a considerable amount of university-level English coursework!

First and foremost, your job as an English teacher is not simply to converse with your students in your native language. In fact, many of them will lack the skills and/or confidence to hold even basic conversations!

Rather, your task is to explain, in detail, the structure and mechanics of English. You need to be able to instruct students not only what to say and how to say it, but why you say one thing in a certain way, and another in a different way – “that’s just the way it is” is not an appropriate explanation.

Teaching English abroad is not something you can half-ass, but on the other hand, doing it successfully does not require a lifelong commitment, or a huge amount of passion. But more on that later!

The Financial Benefits of Teaching English

For those of us who don’t have a serious passion for teaching, English or otherwise, the chief benefit of teaching English abroad is financial. As a general rule, English teachers in foreign countries make markedly more than their locals costs of living, particularly in Asian countries like China and South Korea.

When I taught English in Shanghai, for example, I earned a salary of RMB 12,350 per month, which was equal to about 1,800 USD at the time. My monthly expenses, including rent, bills and groceries, totally around 800 USD per month, which allowed me to save as much as $1,000 per month if I was thrifty.

I often was, but some English teachers use their large disposable incomes to live lavish lifestyles, filled with massages, maids and three-course meals at fancy restaurants. This is perfectly fine – luxuries such as these tend to be much cheaper and more accessible abroad and again, particularly in Asia – but you should understand that it’s difficult to balance excess with moderation, to splurge and to save.

Travel and Time Off

My chief motivation for being thrifty while I was teaching English in Shanghai was one I imagine you share: I wanted to travel while I was working as an English teacher, and to have money saved for when I decided to peace out. I did both, but traveling while I was employed was slightly more difficult than I imagined it would be.

To be sure, another misconception some people have about teaching English abroad is that you can take off whenever you want to travel. Although many schools will work with you in moderation – even my extremely corporate school, and my boss that seriously didn’t like me did! – you shouldn’t expect more than a month off per school year.

Teaching English as a Stepping Stone

Within a month of arriving in Shanghai, I realized that teaching English would not be a good career choice for me. Although I loved interacting with my students, and was good at helping them improve their English, I didn’t share the passion many of my colleagues held for the job.

A secondary goal of mine in moving to Shanghai was pursuing journalistic opportunities. Within a month, I was moonlighting for China’s largest English-language blog; within six, I was a regular contributor to the local CNN outlet. By the time I resigned my position eight months after starting, I’d scored a Web copywriting gig that allowed me to leave Shanghai and travel indefinitely.

If your reservations about teaching English abroad stem from the fact that you don’t really want to be a teacher, think about it this way: Can you put the work and dedication into teaching long enough for you to find something else that better suits your needs?

Many of you know that I participate in the Tourism Authority of Thailand’s Medical Blog Contest a few years ago, which allowed me to learn more about the wide variety of affordable medical and dental treatment available in the Land of Smiles.

What you probably don’t know is that when I was in Bangkok last summer, I had some dental work done – a lot of dental work. I was so satisfied with the value, the quality and the experience that I plan to return to Thailand every time I need more dental work.

The decision of whether or not to take part in dental tourism in Thailand is yours alone, but here’s why I’m glad I did!

Cost of Dental Treatment in Thailand

Like most things in Thailand, dental treatment is extremely affordable. The treatment I had last year – two root canals, with porcelain crowns, plus three simple fillings – would’ve cost me over $4,000 in the U.S., but cost under $2,000 in Thailand.

Still sound expensive? Dental treatment in Thailand can be had even cheaper than that, although you should be careful – you do tend to get what you pay for.

Types of Dental Treatment Available in Thailand

Low cost notwithstanding, another advantage of traveling to Thailand for dental work is that you can have just about everything done there, from cleanings and scalings, to fillings and root canals, to invasive procedures like bridges and implants.

Ever beauty-obsessed, Thailand is also a great place to have cosmetic dental work done, from porcelain veneers to laser teeth whitening. Although I warn you from experience: Don’t get the whitening done if your teeth are prone to sensitivity!

Risks of Dental Treatment in Thailand

Many Thai dentists are educated in the West, and adhere to just as high a standard of care as your dentist back home. Unfortunately, others do poor work, exercise poor hygiene and generally give Thai dental tourism a bad name.

The bad news is that the risks associated with dental tourism in Thailand, however rare or common they actually are, are definitely not imagined. The good news is that proper planning and caution will shield you from them.

How To Find a Dentist in Thailand

The most surefire way to ensure you have a great dental experience in Thailand is to choose the right dentist. Unfortunately, this can be difficult – some streets in Bangkok, Chiang Mai and Pattaya are literally overflowing with dentists!

The best way to choose a good dentists is to use a reputable, international medical tourism consultancy. My friend Victoria runs one called Novasans, for example, and there are many others around the world as well.

I suspected I was going to get food poisoning in Burma from the moment I sat down for my first meal. The noodles tasted as filthy as the streets outside the restaurant looked; the plate gave off the same stench, albeit a fainter variant of it.

But I was still on my feet after a week of successively more toxic-seeming food, so I assumed I was out of the woods.

“I’ll have the fish,” I announced to the woman who’d invited me into her home to eat, after I spent the day exploring the nearby village of Inwa. I was practically defiant.

And totally premature –  the all-too-familiar fatigue, chills and headache began to set in just a few hours later.

“I’ll be fine,” I insisted to my travel companion, a nerdy fellow from Tennessee I’d met at the airport in Bangkok a few days earlier. “I’ve had food poisoning enough times to know what to expect. I’ll be well enough to get on the boat tomorrow to Bagan morning.”

“Tomorrow” is an operative term when you spend the entire night in transit between your bed and the toilet, crawling on your hands and knees because you literally can’t stand up. Needless to say, I didn’t board a boat that day.

But I definitely took a trip! It’s fucking trapped in there, I thought, and began clawing the point on my belly where I had determined the demon was located. Why won’t it leave? Why can’t it leave?

I did everything I could to expel the pathogen, save for finding a sharp object and performing surgery on myself. But as the morning light grew brighter, I was still seated on the toilet, empty of literally every solid, liquid and gas that wasn’t part of my body. And I was still full of food poisoning.

“Is something wrong, sir?” The receptionist asked, as I slithered down the stairs like a snake and into the lobby.

“I need to go to a doctor,” I whimpered, and hoisted myself off the bottom step and onto the floor. “Now.”

The silver lining of the pickup ride to the doctor’s office is that I realized it was indeed possible to feel worse than I did. Things about Burma that had initially charmed me – roads that clearly hadn’t been paved since the British left; cars made for leaded gasoline running on unleaded – were now the bane of my existence.

Although the drugs the doctor prescribed me – seven unique medications, from antibiotics, to activated charcoal, to narcotic pain pills – did little to actually make me feel better, stepping into the sun had provided me with the energy to stand up.

And, eventually, to walk. “I need to back to Bangkok tomorrow,” I whimpered to the travel agent who’d booked me on the boat trip I never took.

She looked upon me with concern “Why you no go to Bagan?”

“I feel like I am going to die!”

“Ah,” she nodded, as if this was something she heard every day.

Of course, I don’t know how near-death I actually was; in spite of the fact that he sold me enough medicine to fill a small carry-on, the doctor hadn’t seemed particularly alarmed by my condition.

But I felt bad enough to do something I’d never done before and have never done since – cut a trip short, travel suicide of sorts – so I’m going to assume I was pretty close.

Something you might not know about me is that I’ve always kind of had a soft spot for snakes. Not to the point where I want to run into a rattlesnake in the Australian desert, mind you, but I think they’ve gotten too bad a rap, and I always stick up for the underdog.

(Plus, some of them are kind of cute.)

A few days ago, while browsing the Internet, I came across a children’s science website, which described in detail the process of snakes shedding their skin. Now, I’ve long thought of travel as a sort of skin-shedding mechanism, metaphorically-speaking, but I never wrote about it, because I thought the very mention of snakes would scare most of you.

But as it turns out, the metaphor works better than I thought. See, at the end of the day, snakes shed their skin to facilitate further growth – a snake’s skin is more limited in its capacity for growth than the snake itself.

Although we humans are lucky enough to have a physical skin that grows along with our bodies, I don’t believe the same to be true for our spiritual, emotional or intellectual skins. If we don’t shed our “skins,” we can’t grow further.

While shedding is necessary for its survival, a snake can encounter problems that will delay or prevent its shedding entirely, usually lack of moisture. Not shedding is not only uncomfortable and unattractive, but can actually lead to blindness!

Likewise, I believe humans who don’t shed their skins not only limit their growth, but can in fact become blind to their own potential for growth. Not surprisingly, I believe that travel is the surest way to facilitate skin-shedding and growth, not to mention prevent blindness.

For example, while many people stuff the ghosts of their failed relationships, or drown them in alcohol, I usually take a trip to get over heartbreak. The moment I step onto a plane, I step out of my “sad and alone” skin, which says nothing of my prospects for meeting locals to show me an even better time.

Travel has also helped me grow through wounds that weren’t as visceral. On the surface, my decision to take a trip to India after losing my job in 2009 wasn’t sensible, and was perhaps completely stupid. But shedding the skin of “economic victim” was what gave me the courage to chart a new course, one of that would change my life forever.

No matter which life situation you feel is holding you back from the growth you need to undergo, taking a trip, living abroad or even seeking out of a life of location independence is the best way to slough off the dead skin that’s no longer serving you.

Have you ever traveled to shed your skin?

In the past, I’ve written about Minca, one of the most charming destinations along Colombia’s Caribbean coast. Minca is tranquil, exotic and good for a day, or maybe two, but it’s nothing compared to Tayrona National Natural Park, which is undoubtedly the crown jewel of Colombian ecotourism.

Located approximately 20 km from the city of Santa Marta, the hub for ecotourists along the eastern stretch of Colombia’s Caribbean coast, Parque Tayrona (as it’s known in Spanish) has everything, from hiking, to camping, to swimming, to opportunities to experience indigenous culture.

To reach Parque Tayrona, either book a taxi from your hostel in Santa Marta (this is a good option if you’re traveling in a group), or ask a local which collectivo share taxi you can hop on, if you’re traveling on your own or as part of a couple.

Just one word of advice: If someone in the park advises you not to hike along a certain path, listen to them!

It's possible to see the park on horseback, although I personally prefer to hike

Tayrona Park is a great place to spot birds, if you're into those

Parque Tayrona is also home to creatures of the less beautiful variety

Enjoy some local fare at a cevichería along the beach

Occurrences like these are not uncommon in the park

Parque Tayrona is popular among tourists and locals alike

Located a few hours' hike from the park's entrance, Cabo San Juan beach is a popular place to spend your first night

A beautiful rainbow over Cabo San Juan beach

Camping is the most popular lodging option in Parque Tayrona

Police officers are everywhere in the park, so be discreet if you want to do something illegal

Myself and the Scandinavian tourists I met decided to exit Parque Tayrona the back way up and over the mountains, in spite of the stern warning we received from a local

The good news? We found Pueblito, a collection of old houses we'd wanted to see. The bad news? The warning we received had been correct: We got stuck in a torrential downpour that lasted three hours, and had to wade across a waist-deep river of mud!

I’ve never been much for in-flight shopping. I mean, why would you buy a dumb of ridiculous consumer goods at 35,000 feet when you could buy memorable, meaningful things on the ground? Does not compute.

Because I spent much of my last flight in anguish about the crazy trip I was embarking on, however, I needed a distraction, and the ubiquitous SkyMall magazine was right there. And boy, were these consumer goods ever ridiculous.

Here are a look at some of the most outrageous ones. Do you have any to add?

1. Skel-E-Gnome Garden Sculptures

Who is this product's target customer?

2. “Rules of the Man Cave” Plaque

I have a hard enough time believing that there are people who designate rooms in their houses as “man caves.” Do you really expect me to believe all of them set the same rules?

3. Mustache Mirror

What if you want to know how you look without a mustache?

4. The Bed Caddy

A plastic caddy that sits by the side of your bed to hold computers, tablets or magazines, The Bed Caddy is practical, and kind of cute. But it’s definition not a “New Invention,” which is how SkyMall is currently advertising it.

5. Darth Vader Talking Plush

Do you really want to cuddle up with Darth Vader?

6. The Gentleman’s Faceless Watch

The Gentleman’s Faceless watch is designed, apparently, to allow you to wear a watch without people knowing you’re wearing one. The only problem? The “watchless” band looks exactly like most watch bands.

7. 24K Gold Roses

Since when do gold accents make something look less fake and tacky?

Oh, and am I the only one who laughs every time I read the Letter from the Editor, a.k.a. the middle-aged blonde lady named Christine (with an “e”) Aguilera? I always feel like I did the first time I realized Patti Smith and Patti Smyth were different people.

My best friend is Swiss, which has led me to spend an inordinate amount of time in the expensive mountain country, a destination that is often out-of-reach for backpackers.

Ironically, the fact that I have a “home” in Switzerland has also resulted in me not exploring the country as much as I tend to explore most places I travel – mimosas and marijuana in Bianca’s garden usually win out over city strolls and cross-country train rides.

Last summer’s visit to Switzerland, my fourth, saw me come out of my lazy shell a bit. I got to know the city of Zürich like never before, and returned to the Alpine village of Melchsee-Frutt, where I’d only previously been during the cold, rainy autumn.

A few days before I departed to Germany, I came across a stunning photo on the official Switzerland Facebook page, which depicted one of the most beautiful waterfalls I’d ever seen. “I have to see this before I leave!” I insisted to Bianca, and passed her the spliff. “Do you know where it is?”

She nodded, and took a deep inhale. “Let’s do it!”

What Is Rheinfall?

Rheinfall as seen from the boat – pretty, huh?

Rheinfall, which is technically known as “Rhine Falls” in English, is a 75-foot high, 450-foot wide waterfall located on the Rhine River.  With a water flow that averages between 250-750 m³/s, Rhein Fall is by most every measure the largest waterfall in Europe.

Rheinfall's viewpoints are built such that you can almost literally walk on water

And Rheinfall is not simply large – it’s also beautiful: The contrast of the blue-green color of the clear, clean water against the emerald hills that rise around it – the crisp red of well-placed Swiss flags notwithstanding – is breathtaking.

Where Is Rheinfall?

Another option is to walk to the viewpoint above the falls

If you aren’t lucky enough to have a Swiss friend with a car – or ambitious enough to cycle to the falls, using Switzerland’s omnipresent network of bike trails – take the SBB train to the Neuhausen am Rheinfall station.

The boat is shrouded in mist, even as it sits relatively far away from Rheinfall

Although the Rhine River, for much of its length, separates Switzerland from Germany, Rheinfall exists exclusively within Switzerland – there isn’t a “German side” or a “Swiss side.”

What Can You Do in Rheinfall?

Again, I warn you: You will get wet!

To get even more up-close and personal with the falls, you can take a boat out into the Rhine River – although I warn you: You will get wet! Alternatively, you can take a tour of Schloss Wörth Castle, in the nearby town of Neuhausen am Rheinfall.

From quirky Key West to idyllic Key Largo, the Florida Keys are one of the most remote destinations in the continental U.S. And thanks to the aptly-named “Overseas Highway” that runs from Miami all the way to Key West, the Florida Keys are also one of America’s best road trip destinations.

No matter what kind of island you crave, pick up your convertible or SUV at Miles Car Rental Miami, then head down the Overseas Highway into the Florida Keys, using this guide as inspiration.

Key Largo

The closest of the Florida Keys to the Florida mainland, Key Largo is notable because it is home to the last living coral reef in the lower 48 United States. Key Largo is almost home to incredible beaches, and a huge aquarium.

Isla Morada

Islamorada, which was named “purple island” by the Spanish explorers who discovered it, is a sleepy stretch of Florida Keys that’s great for getting away. But go quick: Rapid development of the island has caused some longtime residents to flee!

Marathon

Marathon is not a key in and of itself, but a city that spans several keys: Knight’s Key, Long Point Key and Grassy Key, to name a few. Marathon boasts the conveniences of a small city, but with easy access to idyllic nature.

Key West

The most ubiquitous of the Florida Keys, Key West’s is home to a large population of mopeds, gays and lesbians and, of course, plenty of margaritas!

My heart was pounding as I exited the Mar Girgis station of the Cairo Metro, although there was nothing particularly scary or threatening in my field of vision. My anxiety intensified as I began moving further away from the train tracks, and into Old Cairo.

It was an incredibly strange contrast: Although every man, woman and child I passed smiled widely and waved at me as I passed, it became harder and harder, the deeper into Old Cairo I walked, to shake the fear that seemed almost subliminally implanted into me.

Ibises greet the morning near the pyramids of Giza

When I felt the first fingertip tapping gently at my back, my first waking assumption was that I was about to be robbed or, worse, assaulted. But I turned around and saw, to my surprise – and, eventually, delight – a mob of joyful children, who seemed as if they hadn’t seen someone fitting my profile in a while.

An open road in the Sinai peninsula

The longer I spent in Egypt – and the further south I traveled into the country – the fear months of peripheral exposure to alarmist media reports (this was in September 2011, just eight months after the revolution that brought down the government of Hosni Mubarak) softened and morphed into pity.

Egyptians are anti-American?

For example, as I walked through the Old Aswan Bazaar with Katy, an Australian who was one of only a handful of other Westerners I met during my entire first week in Egypt, the tone of the sellers was practically desperate – they were begging us to take items off their hands, offering shawls, spices and even statues and figurines for literally pennies on the dollar.

An eerily quiet beach scene in Sharm el-Shiekh

I encountered so few fellow travelers over the span of my visit to Egypt, in fact, that nearly every activity I completed, whether I was taking a felucca up the Nile River, traipsing through temples like Abu Simbel and Karnak, or simply smoking hookah to finish out a long day of sightseeing, was spent in the company of people I already knew.

The sun sets over a busy day in Cairo

I can’t say, with 100% conviction, that post-revolution Egypt is a safe place to travel. To be sure, it was in the Sinai peninsula, a semi-detached part of the country that most governments still consider an OK place to travel, that I had my only “scary” experience: My taxi driver reneged on our agreed-upon price, and threatened to hurl a huge stone at my skull when I told him what was up.

Travelers to Egypt are far more likely to encounter scenes like this, than angry mobs

Yet I refuse to recommend that you not visit.

“The sad irony,” a young man, who stopped me in my tracks as I walked back to my Cairo hostel from the Egyptian museum one morning, explained to me over the cup of tea he insisted on buying me, “is that the more afraid travelers become of visiting Egypt, the more reason they will have a reason to be afraid: The poorer people become, the worse things will get.”

I recently came across an article by writer Vanessa Vaselka, which lamented the lack of female road narratives in pop culture. Her thesis – that travel tales told by women, but which don’t concern violence and victimization, are unlikely to be given a fair shake by media consumers – was beautifully conveyed.

And on the surface, it was very compelling: I wanted to stand in solidarity with Vaselka, if only for the whole gay-traveler-who-doesn’t-travel-like-a-typical-gay-traveler thing I embody. The story I’m trying to tell is even more unrepresented than hers!

But each time I returned to the American Reader website – and I returned several times – I found myself more and more put off by piece, and less convinced that Ms. Vaselka had any credibility in making the argument she was attempting to make.

I mean, how can you lament society’s addiction to over-sensationalized road narratives when you introduce yourself by casually mentioning that you hitchhiked with a serial killer, and lived to tell GQ about it?

The dissonance between the “traveler” archetype the public craves and the one we travelers actually embody is not a result of the gender, sexuality or race of a particular narrator. It’s because today’s traveler – and, indeed, today’s travel – is fundamentally different than it has been at any point in even recent history.

More specifically, the problem lies in the fact that literature’s most ubiquitous road narratives, from Siddhartha, to Heart of Darkness, to The Tropic of Capricorn, depict carefree (and often careless) vagabonds who take the road with reckless abandon – and, more importantly, without Internet – jettisoning their previous existences, along with all the caution, connections and calculation that went along with them.

Because of the degree of separation yesterday’s best-known nomadic heros were able to maintain from the lives they had before they set out, they could not only wriggle themselves into the types of compromising situations that would make even the most obedient desk monkey check his vacation balance, but to convey them in a way that seems disarmingly quotidian.

If I sound bitter, it’s because I kind of am: I set out on my “big trip” only once I had secured a gig that would ensure I could pay for my travel without going into debt. (A gig which, incidentally, required me to connect to the Internet for at least a few hours every day.)

As more and more travelers, regardless of whether or not they travel professionally like I do, discover that a nomadic life is not just for the trust fund kids and the poor ones who just don’t give a fuck, the correlation of being “on the road” with the sorts of things that happened in On The Road is becoming weaker and weaker.

This is not to say that those of us who follow our hearts, minds and souls onto planes, trains and automobiles do not encounter experiences worth writing about. Just last week, for example, I flew to Las Vegas on a whim to meet an Australian man I had only previously known for two-and-a-half days, and drove across California with him.

What is true, as far as I’ve been able to tell in my own experiences and those of other travelers I know, is that an element of melodrama and of spontaneity – which may or may not be the same element that drew millions to theaters to watch Emile Hirsch strut around the country like a piece of beef jerky in the film version of Into the Wild a few years ago – has disappeared.

And I guess I just don’t know why that’s such a bad thing.

I mean, getting on a plane to attempt to forge a relationship with someone you barely know, who lives literally on the other side of the planet is scary enough. Is it so wrong to want a return flight, a loose itinerary and play-by-play text messages while you wait for him to pick you up at the airport as collateral?

The problem with Vanessa Vaselka’s article – which, in spite of its probably unintentional hypocrisy, I still very much recommend you check out – is that not that her heart, or even her mind is in the wrong place for wanting the sort of story she tells to be better represented.

It’s that the extreme narrative she’s claimed as her own clings to a paradigm that has shifted significantly, possibly to the point where it is no longer valid at all.

There is, as far as I’ve been able to tell, a third travel way, so why can’t we start writing about it? I have a feeling the public will want to read what we have to say, even if we’re not narrowly escaping truck stop slaughter.