Jomsom Airport, with the 23,000 foot Niligiri in background

By Everett Potter

On a recent Sunday morning, I arose at 4:45 am in the dusty village of Jomsom, Nepal which sits on the northern edge of the Annapurna range at about 9,000 feet. I had spent nearly three weeks traveling around Nepal with Dr. Antonia Neubauer, founder of the adventure travel company, Myths & Mountains. More important, Dr. Neubauer also founded READ (Rural Education and Development), a stellar organization that has built libraries throughout Nepal, India and Bhutan. I had seen half a dozen of these libraries in the Nepalese countryside, testaments to community work, willpower and planning in a country where such things are in short supply.

But now it was time to go home.

I intended to make the 20 minute flight from Jomsom to Pokhara and then fly from Pokhara to Kathmandu. I would spend the night in Kathmandu, and then fly the next day to Seoul, overnight, and then continue on to New York via Korean Air the next day. A long trip, yes, but there are no shortcuts, especially in Nepal.

The flight into Jomsom

Three days earlier, I had taken the flight into Jomsom. It was the best flight of my life, a 20 minute thrill ride right through a pass in the Himalayas, close enough to the Annapurna range (26,000 plus foot peaks) that it seems as if  you’re in an Imax movie (with only slightly higher admission).

On this Sunday, I walked to Jomsom airport before 6, with my dusty, dirty luggage, which contained a few souvenirs, including a small piece of yak bone I had found while trekking to Kagbeni. At the airport, I waited in a cement room (amenities limited to matching his and hers pit toilets) behind locked doors along with a few westerners and a large group of chanting Indian pilgrims. They had flown up on a pilgrimage to Muktinath, one of the holiest Hindu shrines, which lies a few hours from here. We waited as the morning stillness gave way to a slight breath of air that shook the bush outside. Four hours later, that bush was bent sideways. By 10 AM in Jomsom, the dust-laden wind is usually blowing 30 miles per hour or better. This day was no exception.

Hindu pilgrims from Muktinath awaiting the flight. Photo by Marcus Hanbury-Aggs

At 10.01 , after no news or announcements, the police unlocked the doors and told us to go back to our hotels, all flights had been canceled for the day. A storm around the Annapurna range had produced winds that were so strong that the plane from Pokhara had to turn back after a mere eight minutes in the air.

There is a morning flight window into Jomsom of about four hours. Then the wind rises and goes crazy, gusting 50 miles an hour (or better) for the rest of the day and planes can’t land. In fact, it is sometime difficult to walk, and you’re instantly coated with desert dust.  You just drink Everest beer and take anti diarrhea medicine and huddle in a hotel lobby to pass the time between trekking.

Now I was fortunate to be traveling with a smiling Nepali named Lava Thapa, who works for READ. Lava had gone off the day before on a pilgrimage to Muktinath, the holy Hindu shrine, and had filled an empty plastic water bottle with “holy water” to bring home to Kathmandu. He was good companion, an impromptu guide, and invaluable, considering that my Nepali is pretty much limited to “Namaste” and “beer.”

But I was faced with a serious problem. There was no way to make the next day’s flight from Kathmandu to Seoul and then NYC if I had to wait another day in Jomsom. And it turns out you can wait for days in Jomsom for an aircraft to arrive. So Lava and I made a hasty decision. We would get a car and driver to take us to Pokhara, a 10 hour journey by road (it’s a 20 minute flight), a road that had been completed six months earlier.

“Completed” turned out to be wishful thinking. There was much talk of this road in Jomsom, which will eventually bisect the Himalayas and link India and Tibet. All I can say is that at this point, it’s unlikely to be heavily trafficked. On a given day, I saw a dozen vehicles, most of them local, around Jomsom.

Hearing us speak English, a laid back Englishman (an ITV cameraman on holiday from London) named Marcus Hanbury-Aggs and an elderly Dutch couple (he a double for Van Gogh, albeit with both ears) gathered around us and the five of us resolved to pool our resources and travel together.

It was after 11 when we left Jomsom, after negotiating for a four wheel drive vehicle to take us to Ghasa. From there, we would need to negotiate for another vehicle as far as Beni. At Beni, we would need to haggle for a third vehicle, to take us to Pokhara. From Pokhara, it would still be at least six hours to Kathmandu.

Off we go, passing optional, but typical. Photo by Marcus Hanbury-Aggs.

All of this was predicated on a best-case scenario of actually being able to drive. Flat tires and breakdowns are common in Nepal. But so are roadblocks, which can last hours, days or even a week or more. Most are political in origin, though some are because of workers gripes. These roadblocks effectively shackle the country, a country still in some considerable political turmoil. If you’re dumb enough to try to break through the roadblock or outflank them, the road blockers have been known to drag you from your vehicle and set the car on fire. So making the flight from Kathmandu the next day looked doubtful indeed.

We drove on a road that was a “road” in name only, a tooth-jarring four wheel drive trip where we forded rivers and drove a single track along a cliff side. “Road,” I was discovering, can quickly become a euphemism for body slamming in Nepali.

The edge of the road -- and eternity. Photo by Marcus Hanbury-Aggs.

After two hours of this we had to stop at a checkpoint and I was made to buy a trekking permit, a bureaucratic hassle because I was now in the Annapurna conservation area. I wasn’t trekking, I was a passenger. But I was also a foreigner in a place that required a permit. That was 30 minutes of paperwork and extra money in the middle of nowhere, handed to a teenager with a uniform and a badge.

The less than inviting Ghasa. Photo by Marcus Hanbury-Aggs.

Then the real fun began. The driver took us another mile and then stopped at a shack in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of idling, scoffing teens and beat-up vehicles. This was Ghasa, and here we had to negotiate a new ride for the next leg. The dispatcher was an arrogant young man who took an instant dislike to Lava. He denied us passage on an outdoing bus. Then he demanded a small (local) fortune for the five of us to rent an entire bus.

“Ke garne?” said Lava finally. It’s a Nepalese expression that means, “What to do?” Indeed, what to do when you’re stranded in the middle of the Himalayas? It was a five day trek to Pokhara from here. We were surrounded by towering mountains that vanished into the clouds. This guy had us.

The Kali Gandaki Gorge. Photo by Marcus Hanbury-Aggs.

So we ended up hiring a small Indian bus — and spent the next three hours terrified on a single lane “road” that had been carved along the edge of what many claim is the world’s highest gorge, the Kali Gandaki Gorge. At it’s deepest, it’s nearly 27,000 feet from river bed to mountain top, with the waters of the Kali Gandaki River rolling over boulders the size of office buildings. To our west was Dhaulagiri (26,794) while to the east were the Annapurna mountains, dominated by Annapurna I (26,545).  We’re talking rock and dirt “road,” where the speed is zero to eight miles per hour, in a shabby, beaten Indian bus that lurched and shuddered as we eased first one tire and then another over boulders embedded in the loose soil, with a carved cliff face looming over us on one side and a 2,000 to 3,000 plus foot drop on the other, with barely space for one vehicle.

The remarkable Lava, gazing at the edge as we rolled along. Photo by Marcus Hanbury-Aggs.

Naturally, since this was Nepal, there was traffic coming the other way on blind curves, including similar buses with people on the roof, hanging on to roof racks, because too many more were jammed inside. Every vehicle was a sea of faces plastered against the windows, usually with Nepali pop music blaring. Our driver was no more than 17 (there are no older drivers in Nepal, it seems; no need to wonder why). It was the kind of experience that appears buried in back pages of the International Herald Tribune, the proverbial Asian bus doing a belly flop into a gorge. I was too stressed out to actually enjoy the staggering scenery. It was truly staggering, but mortality seemed like a more pressing issue.

We came upon work crews  — men with shovels, others sitting on the ground with small hammers, painstakingly breaking larger rocks into smaller stones. In other places, large boulders sat like sentinels beside the road, ample evidence of a recent rockfall or  slide. Some were larger than the bus.

My food consumption that day had consisted of a granola bar and two well chewed Immodium D. I reached out for my water bottle, which I had been sipping to ration water. I saw two bottles and grabbed the one that I thought was mine as we were thrown about the inside of the bus. I unscrewed the cap and was about to drink when Lava said, “No, no. That is mine.”

He was adamant.

“I thought it was mine,” I said, with some irritation. I was parched, dehydrated actually. What did it matter?

“No, no, it is mine, that is the holy water from Muktinath.”

I had been a milli-second from drinking Lava’s “holy water,” in a country where the favorite plumbing pastime is to build outhouses next to the riverbanks, in water in which cattle and donkeys frolic. For the rest of my days, this will be a standing definition of “good karma.”

The author, in blue shirt, shaken, not stirred, in Beni. Photo by Marcus Hanbury-Aggs

We crawled along, tipping and lurching for hours, on the edge of this gorge. After what seemed liked days, we came to Beni, a flyblown place crawling with mules, children and battered vehicles, a market town with drivers hustling rides. Again we had to negotiate for transportation, and this time we got a taxi, a 1973 Toyota Corolla that must have had several  million miles on it and had lost its’ shocks in a previous incarnation. But the driver, wearing his topi, the national hat, was cheery and welcoming, and off we went.

But in some ways, this was even scarier than the Kali Gandaki Gorge. There, everyone is crawling. Here, on a battered and bashed road, we began an aggressive cat and mouse game on blind curves with trucks and cars and motorcycles and overloaded buses. This went on for hours and hours and you reach a point where you actually become accustomed to passing on blind curves. It’s expected – why not? We made it to Pokhara by 9PM, a town filled with bars and trekkers hotels that seemed the more surreal for its jollity and devil-may-care transients sitting in cafes and bars.

Pokhara

We were exhausted, and made the decision to sleep at a hotel and continue to Kathmandu in the middle of the night, before the tumultuous traffic that rings the city had fired up its engines.

I drank the best beer of my life and we ate dal bhat — rice and lentils– our first meal of the day, at 9:30, barely able to speak, and slept for a few hours. We departed for Kathmandu at 3AM with yet another hired car and driver. It was pitch black, delightfully cool and still as we drove. Twenty minutes into the ride, we had only seen one other car on the road. That’s when Lava decided to tell me that bandits sometimes stalked the route in the middle of the night.

“They use guns and take everything, your mobile, your watch, your money” he said. “They stop you with their car, saying they need help, then they point guns at you.”

Great.

Now every pair of headlights coming toward us was a potential bandit. The fact that many of them appeared to be heading directly for us until the last minute didn’t help matters.

Dawn began to break and the clock was ticking. I needed to grab a stored bag in Kathmandu and leave for the airport by 10. And as I had already learned, nothing happens in a hurry or on time in this country.

We hit two Army checkpoints, each one outfitted with the requisite surly and suspicious young soldiers, who peered in the car, looking for Maoist insurgents or worse. As the sun broke through the mountain haze, we passed a fiery riverside cremation, with two dozen mourners crouched on large river stones. Not mine, at least. At least not yet.

Then we fought our way up mountains and down mountains past Indian-made (Mr. Tata has much to answer for) trucks belching huge clouds of black soot into the air, passing each other on blind turns as we crawled, wove and dodged them like bullets. By this time, I had been thrown around so many vehicles I felt like a punching bag. We dodged chickens and pedestrians and school children strung out along the road, past traffic jams of Indian trucks bringing goods to Nepal, wedging our way past lazy drivers and sleepy drivers and angry drivers, as the day grew hotter and the traffic become engulfed in a perpetual thick, rank, diesel cloud that sickened me as much as the lurching vehicle.

Finally, we crested a mountain, or hill in Nepali parlance, since anything less than 14,000 feet isn’t granted “mountain” status here, and looked down upon the hazy, chaotic city of Kathmandu. After 16 hours of hard driving, I hadn’t been that happy in ages.

Kathmandu.

We arrived in the perpetual pandemonium of Kathmandu at 9 am. An hour later I was on the way to Kathmandu airport, on time for my flight. But as I went through security, there was another roadblock. Every single item in my luggage was checked and a pair of 20-somethings with attitude and badges, this time wearing policemen’s uniforms, grilled me about something they joyfully ripped out of my luggage and held aloft.

The yak bone.

One of them took it and made a stabbing motion.

Now why hadn’t I thought of a yak bone as a potential weapon?

Because I don’t think that way. But they did. Or were they grinning because it was sport to confiscate things? But to have traveled all this way and then be held up, within sight of the aircraft, was beyond ridiculous.

The  words “Korean Air flight to Seoul now boarding” had a transcendent effect. I asked for a Korean Air representative. He duly arrived and the deadly yak bone was discussed in great and heated detail. The police held tight to it. Words were exchanged. Then, with a grudging shrug, the Korean Air rep was handed the yak bone. He placed it in a special bag, sealed it, told me not to worry and took it away.

Hours later, I landed in Seoul. The bag with the bone was the very first thing spat out on the luggage carousel in Seoul, beating even the luggage tagged “First Class”. It now sits on my desk, benign, a stark white reminder of my 36 hour hejira from Nepal.  Better yet, I’m sitting at my desk looking at it, not on the edge of eternity on the Kali Gandaki Gorge.

The post 36 Hours in Nepal appeared first on Everett Potter's Travel Report.

The train at Bharatpur. Photo by Marc Kristal.

By Marc Kristal

We reach Bharatpur, where our magic bus is to be exchanged for an air-conditioned India Railway car. Bhowani explains that the drive to Ranthambore National Park is many hours long, while the train is relatively quick; the bus, bearing our bags, will rejoin us later that night. I am not wild about being separated from my suitcase, but Bhowani, with a look of faint amusement we all come to know well, assures us that it’s for the best.

The scene on the Bharatpur platform instantly validates his judgment. The train in the station (not ours) is packed so full that people hang out of the open doors, even as women carting multiple children and armloads of canvas bundles are stuffing themselves into the throng. The platform is no less congested, with families sprawled on the ground, naked children toddling unheeded toward the platform’s edge; a man with legs so crippled that he wears a single sneaker on one knee drags himself up and extends a hand. Cows and goats graze on the tracks. As the train starts to move, half a dozen young men leap off the platform and give chase, scrambling onto the last car and hanging off the sides: according to Bhowani, they’re only going one stop, and it’s worth the risk.

“Sixteen million people ride the trains every day,” he relates, and the mood, as it seems to be everywhere in India, is high-key; as we raise our cameras, the passengers, almost without exception, grin and wave.

Bhowani has mischievously informed us that our train will be even more crowded, but it proves similar to an older NJ Transit model and we arrive in Sawai Madhopur more or less on time. From there it is a short drive to the Oberoi Vanyavilas, a resort that, with its twenty acres of landscaped gardens threaded with water features and paths lush with bougainvillea, feels a bit like a hotel in Bel-Air or Beverly Hills. The difference is that, instead of bungalows, one finds 25 “luxury tents,” modeled on the ones that 19^th-century shooting parties used to stay in, and quite irresistibly sybaritic.

Guest room at the Oberoi Vanyavilas

Much as I would like to loll in my oversized bathtub, pretending I am Gary Cooper in The Lives of a Bengal Lancer, the big attraction here is the park, which, among India’s 21 tiger preserves, has racked up the most recorded sightings. The hotel, like many of the 70 others that have materialized since the park was established in 1980, offers daily game drives, and the morning after our arrival, we set off in an open-top four-wheel-drive along Ranthambore’s rutted roads with a guide. There are seven different zones within the park, each with opportunities for game spotting; the guides search the sites where tigers typically congregate, listen for the distinctive war whoop-sound the sambar deer makes to warn other animals of a tiger’s presence, and exchange information regarding kills (a tiger will feed on a carcass for three or four days, alternating meals with trips to a nearby water source). We motor from point to point, pausing for long, still stretches to listen, scan the area with binoculars, and hope that the Royal Bengal we’ve spotted doesn’t turn out to be a tree stump.

Tigers of Ranthambore

Game drives can be a bit like longterm-relationship sex: brief moments of ecstasy interspersed with interminable interludes of waiting. But we almost immediately get lucky: with a handful of jeeps from other hotels, we converge on a promising spot – and within moments, a 14-year-old female the park stewards have named Machali steps out of the woods and, rather than avoiding the stunned, riveted humans with their snapping cameras, walks straight toward us in a wary but leisurely way, passing between the vehicles and within ten feet of us (briefly locking eyes with one of my traveling companions and giving her a memorable shock) before continuing on her way. None of us can quite believe what we’ve seen: the old lady is a star, and we have just been treated to an incomparable turn on the jungle catwalk.

Marc Kristal is an architecture, design and travel writer. Kristal, a contributing editor of Dwell and a former editor of AIA/J, and has written for The New York Times, Architectural Digest, Elle Decor, Wallpaper, Surface, and numerous other publications. In 2003, he curated the exhibition ‘Absence Into Presence: The Art, Architecture and Design of Remembrance’ at Parsons School of Design, and in 2009 he was part of the project team that created the award-winning Greenwich South planning study for the Alliance for Downtown New York. His books include Re:Crafted: Interpretations of Craft in Contemporary Architecture and Interiors (2010) and Immaterial World: Transparency in Architecture (2011), both from The Monacelli Press. Also a screenwriter, Kristal wrote the film Torn Apart.  He lives in New York.

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By   Bobbie Leigh

Mao’s classless society is no more.

“To get rich is glorious”  Mao’s successor   Deng Xiaping  announced in 1979.  With his  reforms, a new pseudo capitalist program  was initiated and it worked.  Today, some  10,000 entrepreneurs,  each worth  more than 10 million US dollars,  have made China the world’s second largest economy and Shanghai  a  most modern city.  Totally spruced up for the World Expo which runs until October 31, Shanghai   is  a city of the new rich.  Conspicuous consumption is the rule. Wear Prada. Drive a Mercedes. Smoke Cuban cigars. In  Shanghai, the new rich dress to kill — having money isn’t enough, you must show it.

It is a city of gigantic  towers designed to impress, little is on a human scale.  But for architecture, art, culture,  and history buffs , this city of almost 20 million is endlessly fascinating,    Here are ten top  options for a  Shanghai visit, none of which will send you to the bank for  a second mortgage.  Please note: the city is awash in  Dior, Versace, Prada, Hugo Boss et al. so none of the obvious are mentioned below.  You can find that level of ubiquitous shopping at any number of upscale malls.

1.The Peninsula (above) is the first new building to be built on the Bund in the last 60 years.  It is the place to stay as the location, rooms,  gracious service, and a white-glove staff set the standard for what is best in a hotel.  Handsome  art-deco style rooms are silent because of triple glazed windows. Laundry is delivered in  under six hours  wrapped in tissue like delicate Easter eggs.  Best of all, long distance calling is free. The various restaurants are all top notch and one of the best places in town for  a cocktail is the rooftop bar .

2. Take a historical tour of the Bund, an Anglo-Indian word meaning “muddy river bank.” Most of the  neoclassic buildings  that line the waterfront   were built in the 1920s and 1930s.  Almost 30 are now landmarked as “heritage buildings.”   China’s first high-rise on the Bund,  now the Fairmont Peace  Hotel, is well worth a visit  to check out the octagonal glass rotunda and cool  jazz bar.  History buffs should schedule a tour of the Bund and the French Concession with Spencer Dodington; e.spencer@luxuryconciergechina.com.

3. Drink tea  in the garden  at the Ming Dynasty  Gu Yuan Teahouse on Fuxing Zhong Lu in the French Concession.  Or if you feel like being a total tourist, book  dinner-theater tickets at the Yu Shanghai , a new  1930s-styled  space dubbed as the city’s first “highly imaginative theatre-restaurant:” www.yushanghai.com.

4.  Shanghai is the city that welcomed  more than 10,000 Jews fleeing Nazi persecution in the  1930s and 1940s.  The well-designed Jewish Refugees Museum at no.62 Chang Yang Road documents  how these “stateless individuals”  lived among the Chinese yet preserved their traditions.   A short film in English sets the stage for a well-designed exhibition crammed with testimonials and artifacts. An Israeli journalist, Dvir Bar-Gal, leads tours of   the places where Jews lived including the Hongkou district, known as the Shanghai ghetto (shanghaijews@hotmail.com) or  www.shanghai-jews.com.

5. For a special dinner,  head for Mr. and Mrs. Bund where the food is European,  but served lazy-Susan Chinese style with everyone sharing; .  The menu is huge but the waiters will help you sort it all out.  Wine is served in four sizes so you can sample what’s on tap before  indulging in a bottle.  The waiters in suspenders, patches on their sleeves and converse sneakers  are a match for the high-spirited cuisine, especially a three-layer truffle bread with lemon foam.

6.  Three  boutiques which  have individual,  original  hand-mades are Suzhou Cobblers for fanciful  embroidered slippers and bags; 17 Fuzhou Road,: Annabel Lee  for luxe  silk shawls and  blouses with jade buttons; www.annabellee.com:  and  Spin Ceramics  for highly styled   white contemporary  porcelain; 6 Fangyuan W. Rd; .  If you need  a ton of presents —copy handbags, watches,  luggage — at thrift shop prices, hop a taxi to the Shanghai Fengxiang Clothing Gift Market.  Be prepared to bargain fiercely.

7. The best  dim sum is at the noisy, crowded Din Tai Fung on the second floor of a shopping mall in Xintiandi, a series  pedestrian streets with shops, cafes, and bars. Come with a major appetite as you wont find  steamed dumplings as good as these anywhere else. Shop 11A, Building 6, Xintiandi South  Block.

8. The Shanghai Art Museum  has  one of the world’s best collections of  ancient bronzes, ceramics,  and calligraphy.  For contemporary art, check out the up-to-the-second  Contrasts Gallery; ShContemporary,  and in the Moganshan  art district, M97 gallery.  The new Rockbund Art Museum (above), a 1932 restored art-deco building, is the place to go for strikingly fresh and new exhibitions; rockbundartmuseum.org.  Keep in mind that art is probably  the least censored  and restricted medium in China. Almost anything  goes in contrast to years ago when museum shows and galleries were consistently shut down.

9.  The  World Expo closes October 31 but some buildings will remain including the fair’s centerpiece, the 207-foot high,  red, red, red Chinese  Pavillion. The British Pavillion is equally stunning,  especially at night with 60,000 glowing fiber-optic rods.

10.  Bar  hopping – just for the view- is  best on the 100^th floor  skywalk at the World Financial Center Observation Deck (above) one of the tallest buildings in  Asia. Acrophobics will find the the view from the 97^th floor  slightly more comfortable.  The rooftop Bar Rouge at Bund 18 is clubby and great for people watching. The Glamour Bar on the sixth floor of No.5, the Bund,  attracts a lot of expats as it is a sister of  M on the Bund, , one of the first high-end dining  restaurants in the city. Go for scones and clotted cream at  an old-fashioned afternoon tea;

Many thanks to Cathay Pacific and Dragon Air for great flights and making this journey possible.   Shanghai is changing faster than the current on the Yangtze.  Nothing was the same as five years ago and probably no city has transformed itself more agressively  than this one.

BOBBIE LEIGH has written for many national publications including The Wall Street Journal, Travel & Leisure, and Departures. Currently she is a New York correspondent for Art & Antiques.

The post Shanghai’s Top 10 appeared first on Everett Potter's Travel Report.

What are the best countries – the happiest and the safest – for solo travelers? Here’s what I discovered after crunching some numbers for Travel + Leisure …

The post What Are the Best Countries for Solo Travelers? appeared first on Everett Potter's Travel Report.

At the border with India and Pakistan.

Story and photos by Kristin Rust

Americans today may not associate Pakistan with any kind of fun, but fun is to be had at the only India/Pakistan border road crossing, where tourists can experience a madcap event in a tiny corner of the world.

The town of Wagah, split in half between India and Pakistan, is often called the "Berlin Wall of Asia," thanks to a tumultuous history between the two territories. Yet, each evening at sundown the Border Security Force of India and the Pakistan Ranger soldiers come together for a friendly Retreat Ceremony with a lowering of the flags.

The border has been closed to trade for decades and only opened again in 2006, with relations improving since. This patriotic and macho event has proven to be a success with state efforts going to attract more foreign tourists.

Waiting for the meeting at the border.

It is estimated that 10,000 Indians travel to the border each night, with the Pakistan side shamefully thin with roughly 4,000 revelers. Arrive a couple hours early to find hundreds of enthusiastic kids hawking postcards, fresh popcorn and bottled water, while doling out advice in perfect English. Thousands of Indians queue up behind a cement roadblock, men on the right, women on the left, waiting for the 4pm opening.

The roadblock is removed and the masses race forward. Foreigners can skip the lengthy lines, but it's a full sprint when hitting the open road towards the border. Men clutch flags while women draped in saris tightly grip children as they hightail it for the bleacher seats. VIP seating, one section closer to the border gates, is open to the foreigners with visitors from Austria, Italy and South Korea. Locals are literally crammed into two sections, gender segregated, sternly dictated by whistles from the unusually tall Indian guards. Across the way, Pakistanis slowly trickle in.

Suddenly, music roars, an impromptu dance party materializes to "Jai Ho!" and the festivities begin. A hand-me-down of English rule, the hour-long ceremony involves wild uniforms, flag running, competing battle cries, and the star of the show – high kicks that would put the Rockettes to shame. It's a constant back and forth rivalry, much like a high school football game, complete with cheerleaders. "Hindustan Zindabad!" everyone yells full of pride – "Long Live India!"

An Indian guard in his finest.

Six Indian guards, donned in khaki uniforms with embellished belts and red and gold fan hats, remain in constant battle with the Pakistani guards, dressed in similar black uniforms and headgear. Each kicks their way to the gate in an attempt to out do the opposing guard. Beefeater meets Bollywood.

With each kick and dare, the sea of color crowd reacts much like Americans would to a touchdown.  Both country's flags are eventually lowered   simultaneously — and taken back to its respective country's border headquarters with more leg flair.

While it is hard to always decipher what is happening, the meaning is obvious –  we are neighbors and friends, yet our borders make us different, and we celebrate that. This is demonstrated by the very quick, yet genuine handshake between border guards while the gates close, as the sun sets.

Where to Stay
Hotel Grand
Phone: (0183) 2562977
Opp.railway station, Queen's Road, Amritsar

Where to Eat
Crystal
52 Joshi Colony, Amritsar
Phone: (0183) 2225555

The Brothers Dhaba
Phone: (0183) 6941881
Adjacent to Bhrawan Da Dhaba, Amritsar

How to Get to Wagah
Catch a taxi or autorickshaw from Amritsar for 200-450 Rs (roughly $4 – $9)
Many Amritsar hotels offer transportation services
Roughly 30km from Amristar

Kristin Rust is a Colorado native and spent most of her 15 years in public relations within the ski industry. She has recently taken a career hiatus to explore the field of international service and is currently doing volunteer work in India, working with womens empowerment groups.

The post Bollywood Meets Beefeater at the India/Pakistan Border appeared first on Everett Potter's Travel Report.

Utagawa Kuniyoshi, Sakata Kaido–maru Wrestles with a Giant Carp, c. 1837. None other than Frank Lloyd Wright once owned a print. Color woodblock print, 14 7/8 x 10 ¬ in. American Friends of the British Museum -The Arthur R. Miller Collection-. Photo   Trustees of the British Museum.

Reviewed by Bobbie Leigh

The Joker or Spiderman (who got his power from the bite of a radio active spider) seem as tame as  Clark Kent  compared to the fierce Samurai monks and tattooed warriors in Japan Society's wildly entertaining new show.

Graphic Heroes, Magic Monsters: Japanese Prints by  Utagawa Kuniyoshi  is crammed with images of  bloody  warriors  attacked by ghosts, wrestling with crocodiles and giant snakes. They also perform  great feats of heroism like killing a monstrous whale in a surging sea.  Kuniyoshi  (1797-1861) was one of the major artists of  the Ukiyo-e (floating world) school of print making in the final years of the Edo period which ended around the time of the American Civil War.

The show consists of about 130 of his woodcuts  divided into five major themes — warriors,  women (including women warriors), landscapes, theater, and humor. Each  demonstrates  not just  mastery of  form but the artist's  uncanny ability to know what would sell.

Kuniyoshi  was the Warhol of his  time, designing what may well have been as many as 10,000 different editions of his  prints, the most popular of which sold up to 8,000  individual impressions. 

But unlike Warhol, Kuniyoshi's  woodblock prints during his lifetime at least  cost only slightly more than a double helping of noodles. 

Utagawa Kuniyoshi, Woman Playing with a Cat, 1852. Color woodblock print, 14 « x 9 7/8 in. American Friends of the British Museum (The Arthur R. Miller Collection) 02105. Photo   Trustees of the British Museum.

Another example of this master's  creativity was the way he bypassed the censors. In the 1840s, the Edo government banned images of courtesans and geisha entertainers, the more familiar  genre of  ukiyo-e prints. To bypass the government's rules outlawing any image tainted with erotica, Kuniyoshi  created  a new series of  beautiful women  in domestic scenes  playing with cats, weaving, and cooking.  Powerful women also play a role including one of a village  heroine who stops a runaway horse by stepping on its reins with one of her clogs.   

Utagawa Kuniyoshi, The Earth Spider Conjures up Demons at the Mansion of Minamoto no Raiko- (original edition), c. 1843. Color woodblock print, R: 14 1/8 x 9 7/8 in., C: 14 1/8 x 9 3/4 in., L: 14 1/8 x 9 5/8 in. Victoria and Albert Museum, E.10535-1886.

Some of the most intriguing woodcuts from this period are his "riddle pictures." One of the best known is "The Earth Spider Conjures Up Demons at the Mansion of Minamoto Raiko," (pub date 1843).  The public understood how to read this satirical  print in spite of the artist "camouflaging"  the unpopular government  reformers. Viewers were able to identify each demon taking part in the battle  with  the Evil Earth Spider.  

Utagawa Kuniyoshi, Octopus Games, 1840-42. Color woodblock print, 14 1/2 x 9 5/8 in. American Friends of The British Museum (The Arthur R. Miller Collection) 21402. Photo   Trustees of The British Museum.

Kuniyoshi also created some of the most  whimsical and inventive images in Japanese art. One comic standout is "Octopus Games," where squirmy little octupuses fight, sell candy, wrestle,  blow horns, and dance.  Another is a female Kabuki character with a cat's head who hits an octopus with a wooden scope as she watches mackerel falling from the sky.

But among the most noteworthy are "Men Come Together and Make a Man" and "Young Woman who Looks like an Old Lady."  In the former, a group of semi -naked men with shaved heads  are  juxtaposed  to form  a half-length portrait of a man in profile. In the latter, the woman's hair  consists of   three women wearing striped robes who huddle together so tightly  that what we see at first glance is an elaborate hairdo.  Her mouth consists of a child's miniature hand drum. These two images  are a match for the fruit and veggie portraits  of the Italian Renaissance painter Giuseppe Arcimboldo (1527-1593). Perhaps the Japanese master had a chance to study one of the Italian's prints, but there's no evidence to support any correlation.  

Kuniyoshi's  wit, frenetic style, and  powerful imagery make him the rightful grandfather of today's video game designers as well the artists  creating  contemporary manga, Japanese comic books.   You don't have to be  a  specialist to see the parallels or enjoy what this mass marketing master was able to accomplish with  his  woodcuts.

Graphic  Heroes, Magic Monsters: Japanese Prints by Utagawa Kuniyoshi from the Arthur R. Miller Collection is on view through June 13 at the Japan Society.

BOBBIE LEIGH has written for many national publications including
The Wall Street Journal, Travel & Leisure, and Departures.
Currently she is a New York correspondent for Art & Antiques.

The post Kuniyoshi: Good Guys, Bad Guys, Magic Monsters, and Beautiful Women appeared first on Everett Potter's Travel Report.

Recall  the popular chin-stroking adage about Hong Kong when the British returned it to the Chinese in 1997: "past imperfect, present tense, future conditional." It immediately came to mind regarding Sri Lanka after I finished reading Not Quite Paradise, Adele Barker's interesting account of living and teaching on the pearl-shaped island 22 miles south of India.
    During the last 40 years big events have come snapping down on Sri Lanka like the bars of giant mousetraps: a devastating civil war that had claimed 40,000 lives by 2001 and the horrific tsunami, resulting from the Sumatran earthquake, that hit the island on December 26, 2004, killing upwards of 35,000 people. For this largely Buddhist country, Karmageddan indeed.

    A few basic facts: population, 20 million, the same as current Mumbai; roughly 25% Hindu Tamils in the north, 75%  Buddhist Sinhalese in the south; area, 270 miles long, 140 miles wide, an island of tea plantations, jungle and  paddy fields, an exporter of seven different types of cinnamon, sandalwood, wild indigo, cardamons, other spices; gained independence from the British in 1972, changing the country's name from Ceylon to Sri Lanka ("resplendent isle").
    Ms. Barker's literary structure brings to mind that of the French traveler/novelist, Henri Stendhal (who coined the word "tourist" in the early 19th-century), with its emphasis on the feeling of a place through intimate details of daily life backgrounded by more important affairs.
    In the house she rented overlooking the tennis courts of a British colonial-era garden club in the ancient capital of Kandy, she soon learned to cope with the abundant Sri Lankan animal life found on the edge of her jungly surroundings: the invasion of ants, tv-antenna-destroying monkeys, Russell's viper, the country's deadliest snake, visiting her bedroom, rats, palm-size spiders, geckos, street-strolling elephants.
    Surprisingly, no mention of the scary kabaragoya, a Komodo dragon-esque giant lizard, or its smaller relative, the thalagoya, that Michael ("The English Patient") Ondaatje recalled so vividly in "Running in the Family," his memoir of growing up in Sri Lanka.
    Walking to the university where she taught literature, Ms. Barker learned to love hoppers, a diet staple of the island, rice flour and coconut milk made into noodle-shapes, then cooked and eaten with dhal or a coconut/chili dish called sambol. Mangos became a way of life: scrape off the skin, slice, sprinkle with chile and salt, eat. A Sri Lankan best friend is "amba yahuwa," your mango friend.
     Back in the states for two years, Ms. Barker immediately returned after the tsunami hit, and in the book's second half, she reports on the natural and military disasters. Waves 70-feet high, traveling 30-to-40 m.p.h., 64 miles long,  hit the island's southeastern shore two-and-a-half hours after the earthquake. No warning system for the Indian Ocean exists even today. Thousands died along hundreds of miles of beaches, areas  now called "abluvian," meaning things washed away.  Over 100,000 still  remain in refugee camps.
    The civil war in the drier north, begun by the Tamils in 1976 to carve out a homeland, officially ended last year. In Jaffna, the largest city, no building escaped damage, daily life remains fraught with danger. Families were tumbleweeded out of cities and villages by the war, 300,000 remain in refugee camps.
    Author Barker also doesn't mention Pablo Neruda, the Nobel Prize-winning poet who lived in Sri Lanka two years in the late 1920's working at the Chilean embassy. After leaving he wrote in "The Book of Questions,"
        
"Do tears not yet spilled
 wait in small lakes?
 Or are they invisible rivers
 That run toward sadness?"   

    Lakes, rivers, monstrous waves of sadness coming from a seemingly indifferent ocean, it was not really a question. The poet knew.

"Not Quite Paradise: An American Sojourn In Sri Lanka," Adele Barker, Beacon Press, 303 pgs., $24.95.

RICHARD WEST spent nine years as a writer and senior editor at Texas Monthly before moving to New York to write for New York and Newsweek. Since then, he's had a distinguished career as a freelance writer. West was awarded the National Magazine Award for Reporting in 1980 and is a member of Texas Arts & Letters.

The post West on Books: Not Quite Paradise appeared first on Everett Potter's Travel Report.

A vintage Citroen in front of the The Metropole Sofitel in Hanoi.

When you wake up in a large room in The Metropole Sofitel Hanoi and sun is streaming in from the garden, it's already a perfect day. When your room-mates are snoring or buried beneath their down or fiddling with their crack-berries and you know you are first up in the luxury bathroom, it's a more perfect day. When you head downstairs to the colonial portion of the hotel and take in the buffet breakfast (take in visually and orally) and meet with new friends you have just met in The Lounge, then it's a very perfect morning. And that's just the start of the day.

Sofitel, the most upmarket of the French group Accor's hotels, has just named The Metropole as their first Legend, which is emblazoned on the back of the key card. The Legend hotels are iconic hotels all over the world that have upgraded to new standards and have a luxury story as well as a historical story to share. Accordingly, there have been zillions of dollars of renovations at the hotel and assorted upgrades in service such as a 24 hour butler. That may strike you as a silly little item until you happen to need croissants and fresh coffee at 4AM in order to make your 7AM flight.

Among the best things about The Metropole is its location– you can walk to most of the main shopping districts. Since taxis only cost $2 and cyclos $3 (you pay more for manpower)– it's more fun to not walk. I love a good cyclo (say see-cloh) in the morning and love to sit in the breezy little cabin while someone pedals me through the traffic with unnerving intimacy…it's just you and the cars that whizz by right in your face, almost mano a mano.

A cyclo in Hanoi.

I used to always go 'to the church' and walk from there, but now that I have learned my way around better, I target different addresses for the cyclo driver in the various parts of town that I want to shop and hop off without the extra walking. With the help of a map I can usually find my way back to The Lake or to Hang Gai Street, the center of the touristic shopping universe.

I took my first cyclo of the day to Hang Bo Street because this is the heart of the trimmings district and I wanted to find some chiffon-y fabric for the blouses I was having made in Saigon. I saw exactly what I wanted at Hobby Lobby in San Antonio, but that was then and now is now. In the end, I could not find what I wanted so I just wandered around and enjoyed the colors, the glitters, the people and the moto action.

Hang Gai.

Hanoi is, of course, famous for its 36 guilds which are different medieval trade unions located at different streets. Most of those trades have packed up, but new ones have moved in– so you have a street of shoes (Ly Than To)at one point and a street of silk else where. Hang Gai is the street of silk, the most touristy and well developed retail stretch in town for silks of all kinds, including but not limited to clothes and bed quilts. For a first timer, this is the main place to shop until you wander into the Lacquer area and get bound up in art galleries. But then, art galleries are taking over the town and are not limited to one street.

I ask my next cyclo driver to take me to the restaurant The Green Tangerine, which is right of center and not directly in the tourist flow…although The Green Tangerine is a well known eatery and this area is especially popular at night. I like the little street (Hang Be) because it has a few DVD shops. None of these sells programs or software, just movies, CD's and TV shows. You pay more for DVD-9 (better quality); most items are sold in boxed sets. Although I bought a few kiddie movies for a friend, I later saw they were free on my TV set on-demand at home. Oh well…it seemed perfect at the time.

On the way back to The Metropole, I asked the driver to stop at the corner so I could pop into my favorite art gallery in town, Hu'Ong Xuyen, which is directly across from Citibank and the hotel, on the opposite corner. This is sort of a dumpy looking gallery, not nearly as chic as most or as touristy looking as many. I have been coming here at first because it's across the street from my hotel and more regularly because I have been buying– serious art by the same artist, who is now up to $750 USD a canvas and beyond me, as well as smalls such as flowers in vases for $15-20 per canvas and small greeting cards, $3 each.

Lunch on my perfect day always includes a return to Spice Gardens for lunch and then a trip to the Metropole's new spa, which has not only a menu of treats but a music menu to accompany your treatment. I picked 'French Songs' although there was no singing, just Muzak-like noises to soothe away my aches while I got a full body massage of well-being. Sarah had chosen a foot treatment that included being poked with a stick, which she said was quite refreshing.

The Metropole Spa is part of the hotel upgrade and sits behind the swimming pool and alongside the Spices Garden restaurant. You enter a tiny lobby and then weave your way across polished teak floors and old French colonial wrought iron into light and airy spaces and a sitting room decorated with miles of blue and white porcelains. This is the oasis for escape in the middle of a noisy and sometimes frantic city.

Recovery from the relaxation was slow, so I poked around the two different retail areas of the hotel– the designer strip at the front of the hotel's colonial doors, which includes a Louis Vuitton and a Ferragamo store and the back arcade with a branch of Hermes as well as the hotel's own La Boutique, which is pricey but well chosen for local gifts and crafts. There's also a deli and gourmet food market (l'Epicerie du hotel) with hotel made yummies from the famous French chef who toils behind the ovens.

Hanoi street scene.

The late afternoon was spent on my favorite street in Hanoi, a one block wonder called Nha Tro, with a branch of Song on the corner. It's just down from The Church and easily found. Song was created by an Australian designer and is one of the best stores in Viet Nam (there's also one in Saigon). There's a number of home style stores on this strip that sell very elegant table top, far more interesting than anything found in Saigon. And don't miss Sparkles for funky handbags, Grace for embroidered home style and May for little gift items such as velvet eyeglasses cases and flowers for the suit jacket, $4 each.

The day was so busy that I had no time for the final perfection– a trip to the Dong Xuan Market, which is where we usually go for fabric when we are using our Hanoi tailor. Alas, we did all tailor errands in Saigon this trip. We did make it to the Night Market, which is not a great market, but is wonderful for atmosphere in twilight with crowds and twinkly lights and motos and enthusiastic local shoppers. It doesn't get much better than that. 

Hotel Sofitel Legend Metropole, Hanoi, Vietnam. Doubles from $220.

Suzy Gershman has been known as The Born to Shop
Lady for over 25 years while traveling the world and reporting her
series of guidebooks, magazine articles and television spots.Read more Suzy at SuzyGershman.com.

The post Born to Shop: One Perfect Day in Hanoi appeared first on Everett Potter's Travel Report.

View of Nilgiri and Annapurna range from The Red House. Photo by Everett Potter.

The Red House Lodge Kagbeni, Nepal

   
The village of Kagbeni, Nepal, is an ancient trading town on the old
salt route between Nepal and Tibet. The town is a warren of mud-walled
buildings, some topped with crude turrets, an architectural style
reminiscent of North Africa as much as Asia. The setting, however,
could only be in Nepal. Prayer flags flap in the incessant wind and
lammergeier (vultures with 10 foot wingspans) soar on the updrafts. The
town is set high above the banks of the Kali Gandaki River, which flows
down from the Tibetan plateau. The peaks of the Himalayas, especially
those of Nilgiri in the Annapurna Range, provide a sensational
backdrop. In the heart of this medieval town is The Red House Lodge, a simple
guesthouse frequented by trekkers on the Annapurna Circuit and those
heading north.

Kagbeni is the last town in Lower Mustang. Step beyond
the gates of the town and you enter Upper Mustang, which requires a
special (and pricey) government issued permit. Upper Mustang is
isolated, a hard slog on foot or horseback from here.

The view into Upper Mustang. Photo by Everett Potter.

From the parapet outside my room at The Red House Lodge, I could look north
into Upper Mustang, at the broad Kali Gandaki Valley that flowed down
from Tibet flanked by the high peaks of the Himalayas. It was like a
scene from a Tintin comic, as awe inspiring a view as I have seen in
some time.

Within the Red House. Photo by Everett Potter.
But there’s more to The Red House Lodge than the view. It’s
a warren of rooms linked by narrow stairs and balconies. Creature
comforts are pretty much limited to a bed, a thin mattress (you'll need
a down bag, you're about 10,000 feet above sea level), and a trickle of
cold water in the bathroom. If you time it right, there will be hot
water, though in limited supply. Dogs howl outside your window at
night. A rooster will certainly awaken you at dawn.

Pema Thakuri. Photo by Everett Potter.

What makes it unique is the exceptional hospitality of Pema Thakuri,
one of the owners. And the fact that in the heart of the guesthouse,
which was once a monastery, is a gompa or temple, with an
enormous golden Buddha, nearly 400 years old, that dominates the tiny
space. The temple is dusty and dark, frescoes are flaking off the wall,
and Pema is grateful for any contribution toward her family’s efforts
to save the paintings. There may be other guesthouses with a gompa at
their center but they are few and far between. You don’t have to be a
Buddhist to find yourself convinced that something is magical here, hot
water or no.

The Buddha in the gompa. Photo by Everett Potter.

The
Red House Lodge, Kagbeni, Nepal. From 300 Nepli rupees per person (about $4
US). Breakfast is 200 NPR ($3.35 US), lunch or dinner, 500 NPR
($6.70).       

The post Memorable Hotels in 2009: The Red House Lodge, Kagbeni, Nepal appeared first on Everett Potter's Travel Report.

Jeff Greenwald is a veteran traveler, journalist, author (Shopping for Buddhas, The Size of the World) and arguably the most persuasive guy around for ethical travel. In fact, he co-founded Ethical Traveler, “a global community dedicated to exploring the ambassadorial potential of world travel.” I heard Jeff speak at the Adventure Travel Summit in Quebec in October of this year and later on, had a chance to ask him some questions.

Okay, so what exactly is Ethical Traveler?
 
Ethical Traveler, which I co-founded in 2003, is the first international alliance uniting adventurers, tourists, travel agencies and outfitters — everyone who sees travel as a positive force in the global community –  into a single action group. We work to maximize the positive impacts of travel, and band together in the service of human rights and protection of the environment. Our mission — and I admit it's ambitious –  is to empower travelers to change the world. We're working to create a shift in the way travelers view themselves, and their influence within the global community. The time is right, I think. Travel is now the world's biggest industry — even bigger than oil. There's a growing ability   and maybe an imperative –  for travelers to play a more active role. Our core belief is that motivated travelers, mindful of our planet's social and environmental concerns, can be instrumental in creating a better world.

I've read your 13 Tips for the Accidental Ambassador (see below). Are these tips at the heart of being an ethical traveler?

Absolutely. Because Ethical Travel, simply, is mindful travel — travel with a moment-to-moment awareness of where you are, and how you engage with the people and places you're visiting. Mindfulness is key to inspiring, enlightening travel. As Thomas Fuller, a 17th century English historian once said:  "If an ass goes a-traveling, he'll not come back a horse."

el comercio peru / Miguel Bellido ©2007

Can you give me examples of some of the issues that Ethical Traveler is addressing? For example, there's something on the website about Peru's ongoing problem of sex trafficking. What can members of Ethical Traveler do about it?

Through our action campaigns, Ethical Traveler inspires the community of world travelers to stand together and speak out  — to governments that rely on our tourism dollars — about issues affecting their indigenous people and natural resources. We've taken action to prevent human rights abuses in Nepal and Burma, to protect the old-growth forests of Tasmania, to support rangers working in the Cocos and Galapagos Islands, and to defend the health of coral reefs.

You asked about our recent Peru campaign. I'll use that one to show you how our campaigns operate. The prevalence of child sex trafficking in Peru — and the failure of Peruvian authorities to combat this trend — was brought to our attention. We determined that this could be a viable campaign, since Peru relies heavily on tourism. Next — to prevent ineffective action on our part — we partnered with other organizations actually located in Peru. Finally, we publicized the issue on our website and began a letter-writing campaign by our members. This culminated in our "snail-mailing" hundreds of letters against sex trafficking to Mercedes Araoz, Peru's Minister of Foreign Trade and Tourism. The letters are pretty simple. They remind Minister Araoz that we travelers have a choice of where to spend our tourism dollars — and that we're less inclined to spend them in a country that turns a blind eye to the sex trafficking of girls and boys.

What are some of the most troubling things you've seen in your travels in recent years, issues that to some might seem insolvable?

As most of us who even glance at the news are well aware, there are many issues that seem intractable. Not because humanity lacks the tools to solve them, but because the world leadership lacks the will to address them. We saw this recently on the vote to continue to allow the fishing of blue fin tuna, a species now down to 15% of its former population levels. We saw it in Copenhagen, when leaders couldn't agree on sensible climate targets. Personally, I — and many travelers — continually see people suffering in the developing world because of over-population,  poverty, the lack of clean drinking water or clinics, the failure to educate children, child sex trafficking, the clear-cutting of ancient forests, and ethnic conflict. None of these problems are a stone-carved part of the human condition. All of them can be solved and many can be solved quickly. But greed seems to trump all. It's especially galling in countries where corrupt leaders are so shamelessly padding their bank accounts with development dollars. Okay, that's my rant for the day.

You began traveling in earnest about 30 years ago. Are there any places in the world that have improved — in terms of human rights, poverty, corruption — in your view?

Some countries really have improved   many of them directly because of their potential for eco-friendly tourism. Every year, Ethical Traveler publishes a list of "The Developing World's 10 Best Ethical Destinations" (see list below). These are places where tourist income has become an important part of the national economy, creating a sustainable, people- (and plant!) friendly industry. Some of the countries on our 2010 list have made great strides in improving social welfare and the environment through tourism — Namibia, Argentina and Suriname are a few examples. In some other countries, whole ecosystems have been saved or restored because they have been protected as world-class destinations. I'm thinking specifically of Nepal's Sagarmatha National Park, Chile's Patagonia region, and  — hopefully, eventually  — Tasmania's Tarkine rainforest. Of course, these gestures are meaningless if climate change continues unabated .

Sadhus at Pashupatinath in Kathmandu. Photo by Everett Potter.

I was reading your blog this morning and you speak a lot about Kathmandu, which figured prominently in your book Shopping for Buddhas. I was just in Kathmandu in May for the first time. And I left with the sense that Nepal was on the edge, in so many ways. What are your feelings about the country these days?

That's a love/hate relationship too long and maddening for this short interview! Politically, yes, Nepal is on the edge. No one seems to be in power; there's no consensus of who should govern, or how. The murder of King Birendra and his family, in June of 2001, left a vacuum not only in Nepal's power structure, but in the self-image of the country. It's never recovered. The Congress Party, the Maoists   they've all been huge disappointments. Nepal has nearly 100 ethnic groups, from the Terai to the Khumbu. Who can govern a place like this? It would be a challenge to the most enlightened government — and Nepal's current government is very far from being enlightened. I'm afraid Nepal is on the edge of becoming a failed state — but I can't say I'm sure what that would mean. And for the general visitor, of course, it's a sometimes charming, often absurd shambles. On the one hand, the country seems to get worse and worse; modern Nepal in general, and Kathmandu in particular, is the product of decades of horribly bad decisions, rampant corruption, and mindless growth. On the other hand, I adore the place with the blind passion of a man still infatuated with a lifelong lover now well past her prime. I expect I always will.  

What can't you leave home without when you travel?

On the rational, creature-comfort level, I always pack along a ThermaRest sport seat — a small inflatable cushion that serves as a seat, neck support, even a lap desk on a train or bus. I also bring my iPod nano, and a wonderful little plug-in speaker that can fill even the dreariest hotel room with Babar Maal or Beth Orton. On the irrational side, my passport pouch holds a small drawstring sack containing amulets and good luck fetishes I've picked up during my travels — they range from a tiny dried rose given by an ex-girlfriend to a small eye meant for a Hindu god.

Where are you off to next?

I try to return to Nepal almost every year, and I'll be going back to Kathmandu in the Spring of 2010 to put the finishing touches on my new book, Snake Lake.  Otherwise  well, I don't know! Let's see what comes down the 'pike. That's the great thing about being a travel writer; you rarely know what awaits. And despite the increasingly antiseptic and dehumanizing aspects of air travel, I still believe in that wonderful sentiment expressed by Kurt Vonnegut: Strange travel suggestions are "dancing lessons from God."

THIRTEEN TIPS FOR THE ACCIDENTAL AMBASSADOR

1) BE AWARE OF WHERE YOUR MONEY IS GOING, and patronize locally-owned inns, restaurants, and shops. Try to keep your cash within the local economy, so the people you are visiting can benefit directly from your visit.

2) NEVER GIVE GIFTS TO CHILDREN, only to their parents or teachers. When giving gifts to local communities – from schoolbooks to balloons, from pens to pharmaceuticals – first find out what's really needed, and who can best distribute these items.

3) Before visiting any foreign land, TAKE THE TIME TO LEARN BASIC COURTESY PHRASES: greetings, "please" & "thank you," and as many numbers as you can handle (those endless hours in airport waiting lounges, or aboard trains and boats, are all opportunities for this). It's astonishing how far a little language goes toward creating a feeling of goodwill.
 
4) REMEMBER THE ECONOMIC REALITIES OF YOUR NEW CURRENCY. A few rupees, baht or pesos one way or another is not going to ruin you. Don't get all bent out of shape over the fact that a visitor who earns 100 times a local's salary might be expected to pay a few cents more for a ferry ride, a museum entrance, or an egg.

5) BARGAIN FAIRLY, and with respect for the seller. Again, remember the economic realities of where you are. The final transaction should leave both buyer and seller satisfied and pleased. Haggling for a taxi or carpet is part of many cultures; but it's not a bargain if either person feels exploited, diminished, or ripped-off.

6) LEARN AND RESPECT THE TRADITIONS AND TABOOS OF YOUR HOST COUNTRY. Each culture has its own mores, and they're often taken very seriously. Never, for example, pat a Thai child on the head, enter a traditional Brahmin's kitchen, or refuse a cup of kava in Fiji!

7) CURB YOUR ANGER, AND CULTIVATE YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR. Anger is a real issue for westerners even the Dalai Lama remarks on this. It's perversely satisfying, but it never earns the respect of locals, or defuses a bad situation. A light touch and a sense of cosmic perspective are infinitely more useful. As former Merry Prankster Wavy Gravy says: "When you lose your sense of humor, it's just not funny anymore."

8) It makes an enormous difference if you ARRIVE WITH A SENSE OF THE SOCIAL, POLITICAL, AND ENVIRONMENTAL ISSUES faced by the people you are visiting. Our site will direct you to good profiles of most travel destinations; we also recommend you read the political and historic sections of your guidebook (Lonely Planet, Moon Publications, and Rough Guides are especially good for this). Many countries offer English-language newspapers, as well.

9) LEARN TO LISTEN. The ability to listen is the essence of diplomacy, on both the personal and international levels. Many of the world's conflicts arise when people feel marginalized. Travelers from the USA in particular should be aware that many people especially in developing countries believe that having the ear of an American is tantamount to having the ear of America. So wherever you're from, listen well and with respect to all points of view.

10) LEARN TO SPEAK. People from wealthy and powerful countries often express their opinions as if they are the absolute truth. Such preaching invites anger and resentment. We suggest tempering conversations with phrases like "I believe," or "My view is," rather than, "Everybody knows…."

11) The single most useful phrase any traveler can learn: "CAN YOU PLEASE HELP ME?" Rarely, in any country or situation, will another human being refuse a direct request for help. Being of service, and inviting others to reciprocate, is what the phrase global community is all about.

12) LEAVE YOUR PRECONCEPTIONS ABOUT THE WORLD AT HOME. The inhabitants of planet Earth will continually amaze you with their generosity, hospitality and wisdom. Be open to their friendship, and aware of our common humanity, delights, and hardships.

13) NEVER FORGET KURT VONNEGUT JR'S BEST LINE: "Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God." In other words: go with the flow, and give free rein to your sense of adventure!

For more information, visit Ethical Traveler

Ethical Traveler’s 2009/2010 list of "The Developing World's 10 Best Ethical Destinations."

Argentina

Belize

Chile

Ghana

Lithuania

Namibia

Poland

Seychelles

South Africa

Suriname

The post The Interview: Jeff Greenwald, Ethical Traveler appeared first on Everett Potter's Travel Report.