The joy of unusual travel

The world is not as dangerous as it’s made out to be; go anywhere you dream about

by Brad Zembic

I knew a teacher who, everyday after school, drove to a forest trail and did a three-kilometre run. “A challenge is better than a rest to rejuvenate the batteries,” he explained when he was asked by colleagues where he got the energy to exercise after a hard day working with enthusiastic teenagers. With summer swiftly approaching, our minds are drifting to thoughts of vineyards in Tuscany, French pastry, and fairytale castles in Eastern Europe. Go ahead, I say—play it safe: walk the well-trodden tourist trails that millions travel. Or challenge yourself; make a plan to escape to a country you’ve always been attracted to but never thought you’d have the opportunity—or the courage—to visit. Most people who dream of the exotic places are nervous about crime, disease, civil strife, or a litany of other factors that could turn a long-awaited holiday into a vacation from hell. Aside from the obvious trouble spots, though—Iraq, for example, or eboli-ravaged Congo—most of the world is less dangerous than one might imagine. The challenge is to break away from the idea of developing nations as being unhygienic disease banks populated with murderers and terrorists, and to see them for what they truly are—magnificent lands with fascinating cultures and, for the most part, amazingly hospitable people. Case in point: Initially, I had been only lukewarm to the notion of a 4-week sojourn in Egypt, a country where, in 1997, seventy foreign tourists were gunned down by extremists outside the Temple of Hatshepsut, near Luxor. But the land of the pharaohs is an absurdly cheap place in which to travel, and I’ve always been a sucker for a meal that costs less than a Snickers bar. For weeks I pondered whether to make the journey. After all, if anti-Western interests didn’t get me, I’d be easy picking for the local hawkers, whom I was told view foreigners as nothing more than two-legged wallets: Egypt is infamous for its aggressive street sellers that flog everything from King Tut tea shirts to alabaster carvings of pyramids and sphinxes. During the beginning of my holiday, I was almost psychotic with worry about being scythed into pieces, ripped off, or kidnapped. I didn’t realize, though, how much my attitude was preventing me from connecting with everyday Egyptians, many of whom simply wanted to show the best of their country. What was to have been a trip of a lifetime was turning into horror story, but only in my mind. It wasn’t until I tried to avoid some overly eager street vendors by slipping into a Luxor juice bar that I allowed the magic of the Nile to flow into me. On entering the bar, I was greeted by a young, angelic-looking man dressed in a flowing, white galabiya. People shouted juice orders, and blenders filled with sliced fruit buzzed like miniature chainsaws. Through the din, I heard a melodic voice emanating from the shop’s CD player. I was mesmerized by the singer’s deep voice and ventured to ask the angel for the artist’s name. It was the moment that helped defined my entire experience of Egypt. Mohammed, until then only vaguely interested in the frenzied foreigner who had ducked into his establishment for a 40c glass of orange juice, beamed me a smile as broad as a crescent moon. “It is Mohammed Sadik El Minshowi!” he proclaimed proudly, “He is reciting verses of the holy Koran.”

My interest in the spiritual life of the juice seller’s homeland sparked a heart-felt conversation on Islam and the beauty of religious music. It also instilled in me an awareness that all is not what it seems, that despite the scary newspaper reports and anecdotal stories that make their rounds, even the most precarious countries can be worthwhile visiting. That isn’t to say that harm may not befall someone who keeps their billfold in their back pocket, is undiscerning about what and where they eat and drink, or doesn’t keep an open eye; there will always be misfortune and treachery, even in the most paradisiacal holiday locations. But getting beyond the anxiety can open up a whole new world.

So, when thinking about where to go on vacation this year, consider the alternatives to herd destinations—regions where tourists by the thousands converge. Robert Mugabe’s Zimbabwe, thought unsafe due to the government’s land reform policies and Nazi-style politics, is empty of tourists. Yet those who go there are overwhelmed by the friendliness of the people. Turkey’s Istanbul, situated in an earthquake zone—and a favourite dream of many would-be adventurers—offers a intriguing blend of European and Asian cultures; Peru, a country whose cities have crime rates that are among the highest on the planet, promises Inca ruins, steamy jungles, and lofty cloud forests.

Despite fears of racial violence, natural calamity, and peril, most people who trek off the beaten path return with tales that serve to whet the travel appetite of everyone around them. So, when it’s time to commit to a holiday, think longer about your options. If, indeed, a challenge is better than a rest, choosing a more exotic destination might be just the ticket you need to actually enhance your life rather than merely help you to relax. Or, you can keep on dreaming.

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