Uncornered Market

Antarctica, Part 3: Penguins, The Key to Happiness and World Peace?

Daniel Noll and Audrey Scott — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 16:36:30 +0000

I believe penguins are the answer to world peace.

– Heidi Krajewsky, resident ornithologist (bird gal) aboard the MS Expedition to Antarctica

Our challenge to you: read this, watch the slideshow, check out the video — and maintain a straight face.

Can you envision the world’s leaders meeting onstage at the United Nations with a group of penguins to kick off the next round of nuclear arms reduction talks? Or during a break at the next Israeli-Palestinian peace talks, running a few clips of Antarctic penguins chasing each other down a snow-covered slope?

Whereas Antarctica’s landscape stirs the blood, its penguins touch the heart.

Penguins generate excitement, too. They bob, they waddle. They appear like they are forever on the verge of tipping over. But they do walk upright. And it’s because of this (and perhaps their tipping over) that we identify with them. We find human connections in ways we just don’t with other birds.

There is a huge temptation to anthropomorphize penguins, from characterizing how they “toboggan” down snowfields on their bellies to comparing their appearance to someone wearing a tuxedo.

They tempt imitation. They draw laughter.

Watch Our Video on Antarctic Penguins

The life of a penguin is not all good fun though. Anyone who has watched the incredible film March of the Penguins knows this. During our visit, we witnessed both Adélie and Gentoo penguins molting. During this process, penguins shed their feathers in favor of a new coat. Because they must remain on land — and away from the their source of food, the sea — they are unable to eat. Penguins in various stages – some on the verge of a shiny new coat and others with bits of Mohawk-y feathers puffing out atop their bodies — tuck their heads in and bring their shoulders up to stand rigid against the cold and wind as they endure this stressful process.

Then there’s raising children. With this, humans can empathize. Although we missed the penguin chicks’ early days, we still caught a glimpse of a few that were shedding the last of their baby fuzz. Some of the more mature chicks even engaged in a feeding chase – running after their parents in the search of the good ol’ days of dependence and (regurgitated) food.

Many parents, eager for their children’s independence, were forced to show some tough love. They rejected their children’s overtures, thereby implying that their relatively new offspring were ready for adulthood and all that comes with it.

Any of this sounding familiar?

And amidst this circle of life, the reality of death: a land scattered with the carcasses of those not strong enough to survive, often being picked over by hungry sea birds.

How Many Penguins Are Enough?
Some readers were concerned that because our visit to Antarctica approached the end of the Antarctic summer, we would miss out on penguins. Not at all. We didn’t experience the epic King Penguin rookeries of South Georgia Island (tens if not hundreds of thousands of penguins at once), but we felt ourselves exceptionally fortunate: we saw several thousand penguins, and needed only a precious few to put us in our penguin happy place.

Our suggestion: enjoy our penguin photo essay, slideshow and video. Soak it up, let us know what you think. Then, bookmark the page. And the next time you are having a bad day, return to it and watch it.

Penguins may not make all your cares go away, but they will probably make you smile. And if penguins become the next big thing in happiness therapy, you can say you heard it here first.

Note: If you don’t have a high speed connection or you would like to read what the penguins are saying in these photos, view our Antarctica Penguins photo essay.

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Antarctica, Part 2: Honest Antarctica – Gray Skies, Blue Ice

Daniel Noll and Audrey Scott — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 05:24:28 +0000

Life’s journeys play host to the constant battle of expectations and delivery. Antarctica was no different except that our expectations of it were within inches of the stratosphere given the mystique and the cost of the trip. However, we did not carry a must-see checklist outlining this bit of wildlife or that bit of landscape, this scene or that moment. We could not really quantify our desires — we had simply hoped to be overwhelmed.

Then, on that first Antarctic morning, we stepped foot off the gangway of the MS Expedition and into a zodiac. It was clear that we were about to be blown away — but in a way that none of us had quite expected.

We were in Hanusse Bay, a few clicks south of the Antarctic Circle. Just before, Mother Nature had tested us on the Drake Passage by sending 35-50 foot waves our way. (A polar navigation veteran with 35 years of experience rated the difficulty of our passage as 8 out of 10). Everyone was anxious to see and feel the place for which they had traveled all this way.

Mother Nature began that day by painting the sky with gray primer touched by steel wool. She offered no postcard cliché, no azure blue skies with popping white mountains. Her opening display was about honesty. On her canvas of truth, she dropped in shrouded glaciers and brushed in water that was ink-black. But amidst all this dimness, she placed massive hunks of turquoise blue ice that appeared to be illuminated from within and reflected them in the water in electric shades of light green.

We could only wonder: from where the light?

Jared, our zodiac driver, quit the motor. We sat suspended, swaddled by the immensity of our surroundings. It was fiercely quiet. Although we were not the first to ply these waters, the scene evinced freshness and mystery, a kind of infinite natural virginity.

A few crabeater seals and seabirds sitting on icebergs dotted our vision, but the star of that morning was ice, pure and simple. All we could hear were the occasional plunks and scrapes of glacier fragments glancing off the side of the zodiac. When the floes thinned, the silence was punctuated with the snap, crackle, and pop of melting brash ice in the water that surrounded us.

We began moving again. Behind each giant piece of floating ice, the light shifted with the Antarctic wind and the whites and blues of icebergs and glaciers took on a new character. It played stunning and eerie as we glided through the water. Like a land conceived of in the imaginations of inventive science fiction writers seeking to teach us a lesson, this Antarctica was solemn and otherworldly.

A few times, giant hunks of ice separated from calving glaciers and fell into the sea, setting off waves that would have toppled our zodiac had we been too near. This was Mother Nature’s way of saying, “You can look, but you can’t get too close.”

For a first impression, Antarctica opened for us like a prizefighter that moves with ballerina-like elegance, only to deliver a knockout blow. Most passengers returned to the ship stunned and exhilarated by both the beauty and the mood of what they’d just experienced.

A land harsh and brutal, graceful and serene, Antarctica makes clear that visitors are voyeurs — guests at best, interlopers at worst. On this trip, she would eventually treat us to a taste of the stereotypically dramatic that she has to offer – the blue skies, jagged peaks and wildlife that she is known for.

But on that first morning Antarctica showed who she really was, rather than what we believed we wanted her to be.

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Women of the World: A Best of Slideshow

Audrey Scott — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 11:00:31 +0000

Throughout this journey, it has continually been impressed upon me that being a woman in many parts of the world is still no easy task. The force of prejudice and the impact of poor education, difficult working conditions, low pay and limited access to medical care make life challenging for women around the world.

Hope remains, however.

We continue to meet so many women who, despite the hardships, have risen above them with an undeniable sense of pride and an unassailable courage. With an eye to creating a better life for their children and for themselves, these women question prevailing norms and fuel the fire of change and improvement in their communities; they form the backbone of their families and societies. It’s their behavior that helps build a bridge to the future – a future where their daughters may aspire to become someone or something that their mothers could once only barely dream of.

It’s in honor of this spirit and International Women’s Day that we share a slideshow of a few of them – the inspirational, beautiful women we’ve had the fortune to meet along our journey.

Note: if you don’t have a high speed connection or you would like to read the captions, view the Women of the World photo essay.

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Antarctica Update #1: The Drake Passage, From Killer Waves to Killer Whales

Daniel Noll — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 20:57:31 +0000

The MS Expedition, our ship to Antarctica, docked in Ushuaia, Argentina before departure.

As a teacup and breakfast plate sailed by Wednesday morning, followed by a fellow passenger or two, it again occurred to me that no story of a destination is complete without recounting the process of getting there.

A journey to Antarctica from Tierra del Fuego, the southernmost point of South America requires crossing the Drake Passage, an infamous body of water that serves as a rite of passage for those who seek the seventh continent. The seas are notoriously some of the roughest in the world. To wit, one reader pointed out before we departed, “The Drake Passage can be brutal. I was bed-ridden for 4 days.”

Hard to believe, perhaps, until you experience it first-hand.

Although we left Ushuaia, Argentina on Tuesday evening with the calm of a beautiful sunset, by the end of our first breakfast the next morning, circumstances had changed dramatically. Much of the service went upside-down. Chain-anchored chairs tipped, coffees once adhered to the non-slip table mats tipped over. Passengers held on to railings and tables to stable themselves as the boat swayed. A few bodies stumbled by in our peripheral vision; they hadn’t grabbed hold quickly enough.

Where did this suddenly come from?

The reality is that conditions can change instantly in the Drake Passage. That’s why Antarctica isn’t simply a walk-up, an ordinary luxury cruise. Our tour leader put Antarctica circumstances and planning in perspective: “You can’t really get weather reports down here. We get wind reports and some low resolution ice reports.” Despite all the commercialization and professionalism of Antarctic tours, this is still a serious venture prone to the unpredictable.

In fact, this adds to the excitement. You can’t just purchase a trip to Antarctica — you must earn it.

Of the 120 passengers aboard, only about 30 made it to the lecture after that first breakfast. Most were huddled in their cabins. Sea swells continued from the west. Passengers traversing the ship walked precariously, their ankles pivoting almost absurdly at an angle.

Our ship continued to rock violently. A look out the windows of the main lounge was a mixed blessing: while a visual of the horizon helped mitigate seasickness, we found ourselves penned in by white-capped waves approaching on the starboard side and the ship kissing the water’s surface on port side. Swells reached 30-35 feet.

Despite all the “take a tour with a small ship” recommendations we had received, we are very thankful that this vessel is not one foot smaller than it is. We were both grateful for a serious crew of professionals and curious as to what it might take for a boat of this size (100+ meters) to capsize.

If you’ve never really appreciated the might of nature, take this trip. It will convince you. Even in this large mass of reinforced steel, it’s easy to feel tiny — if not entirely powerless — compared to the surrounding forces of nature.

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait
Because of bad weather on the first day, our approach to Antarctica has been slowed down a bit; we expect to arrive below the Antarctic Circle tonight (something most Antarctic tours don’t do). In the meantime, everyone has been on the lookout on deck and on the bridge (the captain’s control room) for sea birds, whales – and now icebergs.

In the vastness of the sea, an hour or two can pass without a sight of anything.

Then, all of sudden, you can be rewarded by an albatross or a storm petrel — or much more dramatically, a visit from a pod of 6-10 killer whales breaching right next to the boat. We are told by the cetacean expert (i.e., whale and dolphin guy) on board that they are a rare and newly identified sub-species D. We were excited to see whales – killer whales! — regardless of their type.

Weather permitting, we take our first zodiac rides and land expeditions tomorrow morning (Saturday) around the Crystal Sound and Detaille Island just below the Antarctic Circle.

Something tells me we are in for much more.

——-

Special thanks to Gap Adventures for providing us with internet access aboard the MS Expedition so that we can tweet, blog, update our Facebook fan page and upload Antarctica photos during this journey.

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Why Paraguay?

Daniel Noll and Audrey Scott — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 11:03:52 +0000

To be hugged by a rodent of unusual size (ROUS)?

Despite all the itinerary changes we made during our Latin American journey, we never took Paraguay off the table. Maybe that’s because we knew virtually nothing about it. We hadn’t met anyone who’d been. That few others traveled there was an indication that we should.

As we crossed into Paraguay from its western border with Bolivia at 5AM, we carried little information on the country: the virtually non-existent section of our guidebook, notes from an American diplomat who had served there in the 1950s, and fragments of suggestions from our network of contacts.

Never had a country offered so few “must-see” destinations and “must do” activities. But for us, that was part of Paraguay’s allure. It was a land of the unknown, perhaps the misunderstood. A land less visited.

In South America no place puzzles quite like Paraguay. For such a small country, a collection of historical hangnails: a gaping rich-poor gap, a series of crippling wars, and the world’s least visited UNESCO World Heritage site. But Paraguay is different, and it has its moments.

So we offer a metaphor for it: the land of the unconnected dots. Here are just a few.
———-
If you would like to skip ahead to our photo essays:

Or, skip ahead to the slideshow below.

But if prose, culture, background and history about a little-known part of the world is your thing, read on.

Tereré

From the very moment we crossed into Paraguay, we noticed large, macho men carrying thermoses and sipping from metal straws protruding from hollowed gourds full of what looked like green mud. As we observed further, we noticed everyone sporting the same: a thermos, a cup (called a guampa), and a metal straw with a sieve-like spoon at the end (a bombilla).

This is tereré, the Paraguayan national pastime.

Most people who have traveled in this region know yerba maté, a hot water infusion made with dried herbs. But Paraguay’s version – tereré – takes yerba maté and serves it instead with cold water and an array of crushed fresh herbs.

And like a briefcase or purse, the design of one’s thermos and guampa – from artisanal leather to rhinestone studded denim – is a point of personal expression.

Tereré herb and root stands dot markets and street corners. Herbs are the secret to great tereré. Vendors not only possess a green thumb to grow them, but they are also experts in traditional herbal medicine. Explain your ailment – from stomach problems to headaches – and an herb vendor will use a mortar and pestle to grind up just the right combination of herbs to ease your pain.

Sadly, however, all those fresh herbs never make it into the food.

Our favorite tereré experience: at a bus station in Encarnacion hanging out with a healthy cross-section of Paraguayans, young and old, as they waited for their buses to depart. The ice was served up out of thin cylindrical plastic bags, and the water came straight from a tap jutting out of the ground. Bonus: we didn’t have to hug the bowl.

Paraguay’s Mennonites

Smack in the middle of nowhere, South America our bus ground to a halt. Enter three men: white skin, tanned, steel-blue eyes, and dressed in denim overalls. They looked like they might have walked out of the background of American Gothic. It was a strange sight to us, but apparently an unexceptional one in Paraguay.

We had read previously of the Mennonite colonies clustered in the Chaco, a chunk of difficult, dry land in western Paraguay. How and why did they end up here?

German, Russian, and Canadian Mennonites moved to the Chaco in the 1920s and 1930s to escape persecution in their home countries. The Paraguayan government gave them great freedom and autonomy, and even some land. But there was a catch: the land was perceived as unsuitable for farming and was virtually uninhabitable. In the beginning, thousands of Mennonites died from disease, but in an ironic twist, the Mennonite colonies are now responsible for a significant portion of the country’s meat and milk production.

Each Mennonite colony also has its own unique relationship with technology and modern conveniences, too. Peter, a German proprietor of a tourism farm outside of Concepcion, shared stories of how some of the more conservative Mennonites buy high-quality tractors to help with harvesting. But their beliefs run deep to hard work, so they don’t want things to go too easily. As soon as their new tractor arrives, they remove the rear wheels and attach a sled.

Locals are swift to take advantage. When their Mennonite neighbors have purchased a tractor, they show up in droves hoping to buy the wheels at cut-rate prices. Yet another win-win.

Asuncion

Paraguay’s upside-down capital city. Some interesting historical building, homes, shops and government offices remain, but the city center feels as if all the people who cared left. The evenings are cricket quiet after workers flee to the outskirts and suburbs.

In perhaps the most perfect illustration of the gap between power and poverty, Paraguay’s Parliament building stands adjacent to a patch of dengue-ridden slums at the river’s edge. It’s odd at first to see politicians going to work in their freshly pressed suits while kids from the slums play just a few meters away. But there’s something vaguely refreshing about politicians having to stare at the poverty their policies and notorious corruption no doubt exacerbate.

The bright spot: Asuncion’s outdoor markets. In Mercado Cuatro – a labyrinth of shops and covered markets – you can find Korean newspapers and restaurants catering to Korean locals. Best of all is the Abasto market on the edge of town, where we were greeted with curious looks and friendly smiles — and surrounded by some of the largest watermelon stacks we had ever seen.

Finally, after having been to Buenos Aires, we can say without an ounce of irony that Asuncion features some of the best gelato in the region. Head out to the Asuncion suburbs to Quattro D (Mariscal Estigarribia 932), order the Italian chocolate gelato and maracuya (passion fruit) sorbet and you too will be a believer.

Trinidad and Jesus – A Lonely UNESCO Site

Although the Jesuits established reducciones (townships) throughout southern Paraguay in the 1600s and 1700s, the most famous are the now-UNESCO sites of Trinidad and Jesus outside of Encarnacion. In their day, Trinidad and Jesus were each an exercise in sustainable communal living. In stark contrast to the tradition of keeping the local indigenous Guaranis as slave labor, the Jesuits actually educated and trained them as members of the community.

Unsurprisingly, the Jesuit approach to the Guarani angered and threatened many colonialists and settlers whose businesses depended upon slave labor. Eventually, the Spanish government expelled them in 1767. All that remains now of this progressive slice of history are the skeletons of rubbled settlements, churches and courtyards strewn across a large green field.

If you find yourself in Paraguay, Trinidad and Jesus are worth a visit Having said that, they are probably not worth a major detour – unless you happen to be on a life mission to box-check every last UNESCO site on the planet.

The Triple Alliance War

Like all wars, Paraguay’s war with neighboring Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay from 1864 to 1870 falls victim to competing historical narratives as to why it started. The one that prevails: Paraguay started it, the others finished it, and the British played a supporting role.

Some Paraguayans explain it a little bit differently, though: “We were invaded because the others were jealous of our intelligence. We were educating our men in Europe and they were afraid of our independence.”

The circulating story we prefer — perhaps because it provides comic relief to something so tragic — is the one that suggests the war began because of a toothache. As the story goes, Francisco Solano Lopez, Paraguay’s leader, had a toothache that caused such intense pain that it drove him insane — so insane that he decided to declare war on all of his neighbors to the east and south at once.

No matter what the reason for the war’s beginning, it ended with devastating consequences for Paraguay, including the death of up to 90% of the country’s male population. Some Paraguayans believe that the Triple Alliance War continues to cast a shadow on the country’s collective psyche to this day.

On a lighter note, we were also told that Paraguayan men were encouraged to spread their seed in a patriotic duty to repopulate the country. But patriotism has its side effects: every Paraguayan woman expects her husband to cheat; she just doesn’t want to know about it.

Capybaras, Toucans and Frogs

Before you’ve absorbed all that’s heavy about Paraguay, steal off to Granja Roble outside of Concepcion, Paraguay. Spend time with Peter – he’s incredibly knowledgeable about Paraguay and has an interesting story himself of how he got there. Take a boat or some inner tubes down the river, and have him show you these denizens that lurk in an around the oasis he’s created.

Oh yeah, and that giant rat? That’s a capybara. It’s technically the world’s largest species of rodent. The local Guarani word for him means “grassmaster” and if you happen to find them in the wild, they’ll likely be running away from your camera.

But if you visit Peter, you’ll have the opportunity to meet Mimi, the family pet whose identity crisis is served by his female name (the family didn’t realize that he was a male until long after his name had stuck). Mimi is so desperate for a mate that he skulks around and seeks one in the male pig pen out back. But the male pigs are good fighters, for Mimi returned to the kitchen each night with fresh bite wounds across his side and back, likely from pigs who had no interest in being Mimi’s bitch.

Slideshow: Best of Paraguay

Note: if you don’t have a high speed connection or you would like to read the captions, view our Best of Paraguay photo essay.

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Faces of the Andes: A Slideshow

Daniel Noll — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 11:00:43 +0000

When we browse photos from a faraway place to which we’ve never been, we find that the entire visual panorama — the faces, the clothing, the landscape — looks so similar that it blurs any lines of distinction.

When you get up close, though, all the subtle differences have a way of evincing themselves more clearly. Maybe it’s first-hand experience or familiarity. Regardless, what was once a generalization — a single culture — now becomes an array of competing similarities and differences. This phenomenon plays itself out continually during our travels, with Andean South America (Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia) as no exception.

Frankly, this is where travel becomes really cool. Take the hats, the headwear. Ecuadoran hats are different from Peruvian hats and Bolivian hats. More granular than that, hats differ from one town to another, from one ethnic group to another, through lowland villages and back into iconic Andean mountains. The same goes for weavings, shawls, panchos, and sweaters.

But the clothing is the easy part. The faces — now that’s where it gets a bit tricky, if not infinitely more interesting. All the faces suggest some relation, some inherent similarity, but they are different — like related families, but on a more epic level. Faces that once appeared “the same” now reveal distinct features and expressions.

So what of all this?

We were surprised — pleasantly so — by the diversity of the people, culture and colors we found throughout the Andes. And in celebration of this, we share a photo essay and slideshow entitled The Faces of the Andes. In many cases, these are the people we met, chatted with, interviewed and got a chance to know while we made our way through a region that was once simply “The Andes” to us.

Note: if you don’t have a high speed connection or you would like to read the captions, view the Faces of the Andes photo essay.

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Do You Travel to Blog or Blog to Travel?

Daniel Noll — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 16:49:12 +0000

If you consider yourself a travel blogger, I have a question for you: Do your travels determine your blogging? Or does your blogging determine your travels?

In other words, does your blogging life – your online persona and community – actively play a role in how you choose your travel destinations and activities?

What the heck is the metaphor business?
It’s one in which, as you have an experience, you undertake and capture it in a way that can somehow be shared or monetized later. If you are a travel writer, travel photographer, lifestyle writer, or food writer, you’ll probably know what I mean.

If you are not in the travel blogging world, but you happen to be in the metaphor business, a similar question applies to you: How much of what you do is motivated from within?

If this looks like a twist on the career advice, “Do what you love and the rest (i.e., the satisfaction, success, money, etc.) will follow,” it is.

The Travel Blogger Example
We once assumed that most travel bloggers do as we do: choose an itinerary based on their own interests and write about their experiences. But a few articles came across our RSS readers earlier this year in fact underscoring that others take a wholly different approach. They actively choose and tune their travel trajectory based on what they perceive will be of interest to their readers, even if other destinations or activities may be of greater interest or better suited to them.

This is a deliberate choice, but it does cast light on the relationship between an experience, reflections on that experience, the consumption of those reflections by an audience and the influence of audience reaction on future decisions.

Our Approach
We began this blog to share our around-the-world journey. Along the way, we hoped to use and hone our writing and photography skills to engage readers in travel as a gateway to understanding our world (and hopefully becoming less fearful of it). As we’ve executed, we’ve made inroads into the travel blogging world — and in turn we’ve realized that there are myriad approaches to and reasons for travel blogging. And as our understanding of the blogging world evolves, we regularly examine and question our own approach.

Although we occasionally call out to our community for guidance, we generally make itinerary choices based on what we believe will engage us and teach us something.

We understand that we sometimes do this to our own online peril. For example, an article about kids working the mines in Bolivia is interesting to some and a meaningful issue that we believe both deserves attention and accurately reflects our travel experience. To us, it’s worth the effort to write. However, we’re aware that it’s not a particularly hot travel topic primed for viral success.

Asking You
Tomato-throwing caveat: One approach to travel blogging is not inherently better than another; each has value and satisfies different needs. I ask the question below not with a specific answer in mind, but as an open inquiry. I’m curious about the relationship between the experiences you choose and your audience.

Do you travel to blog or do you blog to travel?

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Antarctica: A Decision

Audrey Scott — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 20:30:24 +0000

Some of you weighed in on our decision to go to Antarctica. We don’t want to leave you hanging any longer.

So what did we decide? What did the process look like and what did we learn from it?

The upshot: we pulled the trigger. A week from today we’ll be on an eleven-day journey aboard an ice-breaker in and around Antarctica and beyond our second polar circle (the first one was when we got engaged in Norway). Although we had to act quickly in order to not miss the opportunity, we did not take our decision lightly.

It’s difficult to explain all of our conflicting sentiments, but here goes: excitement — Glaciers, whales and penguins, here we come!), disbelief (Can this really be happening?), fear (Ugh, Drake passage!), and calm (This feels right!).

We’d like to thank everyone for their input and thoughts — on our post, the Uncornered Market Facebook Page, and our personal Facebook pages. Thanks to all of this, we’ve been put in touch with new people and we’d like to think we’re just a little bit smarter than we were before.

We really do appreciate our community and its collective wisdom.

We’d also like to thank the Twitter community – our own network and the wider Twitterverse — for playing an integral part in the unfolding of this story. Since the odds of joining a last-minute March departure for Antarctica seemed stacked against us, we didn’t dive deep into an online research project to ferret out last minute offers. Instead, we relied mainly on Twitter. One tweet and one response was all it took to get the ball rolling.

The “Oh Shit” Moment: Online Buyer Beware
Although this may come as a surprise to some, not everything on the internet — Twitter included — is accurate or legitimate. So everything went smoothly with our Antarctica agent in Ushuaia, Argentina until it came time to fork over our credit card number. The problem wasn’t the agent, but us.

We stepped back: Do we really know who this woman is? Can we be guaranteed the tour we were promised? Could this be a scam?

Just call it a healthy dose of skepticism honed from years of experience on and off the road.

We went into investigative mode to confirm the legitimacy of our agent and the offer. We searched for our agent’s name online. We called the tour operator actually running the tour to confirm that our agent had a relationship with them.

Then came the moment when the tour operator indicated that while the agent was legitimate, there were no spaces available on the tour she was attempting to sell us. Either the whole thing was a scam or there was a mix-up (thus the great price).

Our hearts sank. We stepped back again. If a bait-and-switch was at work or an honest mix-up had placed our desired itinerary out of reach or out of our price range, we were prepared to skip Antarctica altogether this time around.

If the stars aligned, great. But if they didn’t, we weren’t going to force the issue.

As it turns out, a group had canceled their reservations, but our agent and tour operator had not fully settled the issue. I expressed my concerns about handing over our credit card number for such a large amount of money without a more solid guarantee. The agent completely understood and suggested we complete the transaction directly with the tour operator. Perfect.

Putting it all together
Within a couple of hours of booking our tour, we booked flights south from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia through El Calafate, sorted accommodation, and organized gear and clothing rental. (We had to laugh at ourselves as we searched for budget hostels after booking a not-so-budget tour.) Add to this the need to pack out of our apartment in Buenos Aires and make our way on a boat to Uruguay the next day.

Time to take a deep breath.

——-

Our flexible style of travel allows us to act on impulse and take advantage of opportunities when they arise. Sometimes, however, we miss out because we haven’t planned far enough in advance. But every now and then (e.g., Galapagos Islands and Antarctica), the stars align and we’re off on a new adventure.

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To Antarctica or Not?

Daniel Noll — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 19:00:47 +0000

The other day we were chatting with some friends over dinner about travel and the topic of Antarctica came up. Perhaps it was the martini and red wine combination (it was a long day), but I got fired up as I considered the possibility.

Until now, Antarctica seemed like a far off dream, the stuff of speculation only. But could we – or rather, should we – try to make it a reality?

The end of the season – always our favorite time to travel anywhere – is approaching. Perhaps there would be a cancellation we could fill? Last time we executed a just-in-time strategy – in the Galapagos Islands – we booked a last minute tour and it worked out great.

So we put a call out on Twitter for information on the availability of Antarctica tours launching this March (as in two weeks from now). Surprisingly, we received only one response. (Note: A similar call last summer for Galapagos tours quickly delivered more than a dozen responses. Galapagos tour agents are apparently more attuned to Twitter than the Antarctica crew.)

Regardless, the one response this time around seems to have put us in touch with the right Antarctica agent. At the time of writing, there are spaces available on two trips launching in March. Both would be great; one in particular looks incredible. It bears mentioning that absolutely nothing connected with Antarctica is inexpensive, but both offers strike us as comparatively good value.

So what’s the fascination with Antarctica?
Antarctica strikes us as truly far away, beyond consideration. Forbidden. Harsh. The land is remote and barren – aside from a few regulars we’d hope to meet up close (e.g., penguins). I envision an ice-breaker and the adventure of braving the elements and rough sea to get there. Finally, the sheer visual beauty of the place has strong appeal: the landscape, the glaciers, the way light bends over it all. (Have you some of these photos?)

Add to all that the urgency. There are rumors that authorities may begin restricting tourism to Antarctica. Perhaps it won’t be immediate. Perhaps the rumor is a marketing ploy and the restrictions will never come to pass. I’m a skeptic and aware of all that. I am convinced the poles are melting — regardless of what or whom happens to be causing their accelerated disappearance.

Then, there’s the fact that Antarctica is the seventh continent. We’re not big fans of counting passport stamps or bragging about the number of countries we’ve been to, but there is something oddly appealing about visiting a continent so remote that most will never have considered going.

What’s keeping us back?
It’s simple: money. We aren’t rolling in it, so making this happen would take a big chunk out of what we planned to spend in South America. It would require us to ramp up the business side of our existence (perhaps not a bad thing?). We are looking at having to make some timing and financial adjustments.

We are here in Argentina. We are close. And the little man on my shoulder is saying to me: “You only live once.”

But we question. We recently wrote about deliberate living. How does this fit in with our larger priorities?

In writing this post, I may have jinxed us completely and the opportunity may pass with the next keystroke.

But, I’m curious to hear your thoughts:

What do you think? Should we go for it? Is a trip to Antarctica worth it?

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Bolivia: Travel to Love or Travel to Learn?

Daniel Noll and Audrey Scott — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 15:59:30 +0000

The folds of Bolivia’s beauty – and its contradictions and struggles — defy a story line.

– Our thoughts in Bolivia, First Impressions

Bolivia may defy a story line, but it sure does beg a visit.

It doesn’t usually occur to us to present false dichotomies like we do in the title, but questions like these are the ones that Bolivia seems to raise. It’s a conflicted place and it left us similarly so.

Bolivia’s landscape is stark and stunning in turns. So are the people. In Andean South America, Bolivia is the poster child of diversity, whether in regards to ethnicity, culture, clothing or politics.

But for all this, you pay a price. The high altitudes of the altiplano and salt flats humble you into understanding the limits of your body: your head feels dizzy, you run out of breath. For a host of cultural and historical reasons, indigenous communities often view travelers suspiciously. Some people even throw tomatoes in the direction of unwelcome shutterbugs.

Make no mistake, Bolivia doesn’t slot in as the world’s easiest travel destination. But it certainly does stimulate. It will make you think — and if you give it a chance, it just might profoundly impact and inform your view of the world.

For us, that’s plenty reason to visit. But in case you need further convincing, we offer our photo essays and a summary of what we experienced there.

If you would like to skip ahead to our photo essays, here they are:

Note: Click on “Slideshow” for best viewing results.

Lake Titicaca – Blue Skies, Blue Waters
At 3,800 meters, Lake Titicaca stands as one of the highest, largest, and deepest lakes in the world. Its blue sky, clouds, and surrounding dryscape leave two distinct visual impressions: blue and three-dimensional. Throw in the fact that it’s framed in part by the 6,000+ meter mountains of the Cordillera Real and you have a stunning canvas.

High altitude hiking (3,800-4,000 meter) on the Isla del Sol (Sun Island) and along the mainland coast from Yampupampa to Copacabana (17 km) offers a terrific way to take in the lake. Your heart and lungs may burn at first, but the amazing views make it all worth it.

Be sure to celebrate your hiking accomplishments with some freshly grilled trout on the shores of Copacabana.

La Paz
How many other major cities feature a 6,400 meter (21,000+ ft) snow-capped mountain (Mt. Illimani) looming over it? The surrounding landscape is full of hills, red rocks, and crags — all of which spill into a giant bowl of a valley. When it comes to dramatically set major cities, it’s difficult to beat La Paz.

While the setting of La Paz is undeniably amazing, what really struck us was the city’s mix of indigenous people, bustling market culture, and seemingly cosmopolitan caches of tall buildings. While other big cities in South America (e.g., Lima, Peru and Quito, Ecuador) have some of these features, La Paz seems to inimitably integrate it all.

Cochabamba and Chapare
Cochabamba doesn’t qualify as our favorite city in Bolivia (watch out for your belongings in the market!), but it does serve as a jumping off point for the Chapare region and the Bolivian jungle.

Consider a visit to Inti Wari Yassi animal sanctuary near the town of Villa Tunari in Chapare. Hang out with monkeys and other animals rescued from circuses or donated by people who realized that taking care of a full-sized bear is no easy feat. If you have some time, you can volunteer at the sanctuary as well. Word has it that they are short on staff.

Chapare also serves as Bolivia’s coca leaf production center. You may or may not see any coca growers during your visit, but it’s interesting to understand how the cocaine production lifecycle begins in a place like this.

Salt Flats and High Deserts
If your time in Bolivia is limited, get on down to Tupiza in the south and take a 4-day jeep tour across the high deserts and salt flats to Uyuni. The landscape is some of the most unique and beautiful we’ve come across on our three years on the road. Mother Nature really outdid herself here with a palette including red and green lakes, snow-white salt fields and azure blue skies.

Read the full story and see panoramic photos from the salt flats.

Sucre and Potosi
From the moment we arrived in Bolivia, people raved about Sucre. Yes, it’s a pretty colonial city with white buildings, churches, and a central plaza reminiscent of Europe. However, when we consider Sucre, we don’t find ourselves reaching for superlatives. It’s a comfortable city in which to spend a few days, cobble together a Thanksgiving meal, visit the excellent Museum of Indigenous Art, and perhaps stop by the Sunday indigenous market in nearby Tarabuco. Note: In Tarabuco, be careful with your camera; locals are decidedly photo-unfriendly. Although we enjoyed our visit and emerged unscathed, fellow travelers had tomatoes and rocks thrown at them when they brought out their cameras.

Locals will remind you that nearby Potosi was once larger, richer and more famous than either London or Paris. 500 years later, the mines still operate and attract travelers. The mine tour is by no means upbeat (it’s not intended to be), but offers an opportunity to see and experience the conditions that miners subject themselves to on a daily basis. The whole experience is a window onto their lives, dreams and fears.

Tarija
If the thin air and indigenous Andean communities of the altiplano leave you light-headed, may we suggest a visit to the southern Bolivian city of Tarija for a vacation from your vacation?

Although Tarija may not feature any particularly notable sights, its friendliness, laid-back attitude, wine culture and attention to food makes it feel downright Mediterranean (minus the beach). Recharge your batteries by hanging out with people like this: