Where's Andrew?

Ever since I returned from Antarctica, all my wonderful readers have been demanding to know when I would be heading out again. Well, the time has come. Starting next month, I will be out on the road for National Geographic Traveler, darting from one location to the next, exploring openly and sending back a steady stream of photos, video, tweets, and blog posts for all of you. Find me on Twitter, and stay tuned for more at National Geographic. Thanks for all your support and get ready to have some fun!

Counterintuitive

I am not a photographer. I am a writer who takes pictures now and then. That said, I find that in this day in age, if you work in media at all--even writing books--publishers and editors keep requesting photos of me, the writer. Over the past year, I've found myself having to take more and more pictures for higher-standard publications--Frankly, I find it all a very daunting challenge but also kind of fun.

Travel photography is tricky stuff and only now am I appreciating the real sense of work that goes on behind it. In an attempt to improve my photo skills, I took a 4-day course with National Geographic Expeditions. The entire experience was rich and educational, not to mention extremely tough and fun. I learned a lot in a very short time and feel an iota more confidence behind the camera then I did before. A lifetime of practice awaits.

Of the few thousand pictures that I shot, I was able to stomach about 10 of the images. Here's one of my favorites--a self portrait snapped in the bathroom/utility closet of a Capitol Hill used bookstore (it looks better bigger, so click on it if you want).

National Geographic Radio Interview

For the few and far between who actually read this blog. Here's my latest interview w/ National Geographic's wonderful adventurer and wild man Boyd Matson. I talk a bit about my bus trip to Antarctica, then hint at my next project, which will put me out on the road later on this year. Stay tuned to find out more!

Green Land

September has been a busy month, both for traveling and writing. I saw the dawn of September 1st from the window of a jet somewhere over the North Sea on my way to Copenhagen. I then spent a glorious week in Greenland, which is a country that has fascinated me ever since I could read a map. Finally getting to Greenland was a dream come true--and I also got goose-pimply over the fact that I have crossed both the Arctic and Antarctic circles this year.

Anyway, you can watch/read/listen to all my Greenland coverage over at Gadling, including the following video clips:



That's my attempt at speaking Greenlandic, which is a curious Inuit tongue. I have no idea if this is comprehensible, but I tried. Anyway, this is what traveling in Greenland is like:



I felt very fortunate to visit the village of Tasiusaq, a miniature dot of a settlement on the very southern tip of Greenland. During the hour I was there, the school kids came outside for recess, where they were playing baseball, so I thought:



I also ate whale (!):



And went swimming outdoors:

How I Travel

The kind folks over at BootsnAll asked me to participate in their "How I Travel" series. You can read the resulting piece HERE. Many thanks to Steve for taking an interest & for all their good questions & for caring enough to ask.

Honestly, I never really considered how I traveled until I got their questionnaire. I could tell you all the ways I don't travel, but not really anything beyond that. Can't say if it's right or wrong, better or worse. How I travel is that I travel, anyway, anyhow.

Undisclosed Location

This week I'm in another country. Normally I get to talk openly about where I am and what I'm doing, but this time it's different. Like some secret agent, I'm under strict legal obligation NOT to tell people where I'm at. And so I shot this video on the beach, giving all my readers a few clues as to where I am but not getting too specific. After a summer of sitting still it feels great to be out in one of the more exotic corners of the globe. I love re-discovering how much energy I get from traveling and this week is no exception.

Bus2Antarctica Feature Released

So, exactly one year after I actually pitched my crazy idea to National Geographic Traveler (to take buses from National Geographic headquarters all the way to Antarctica), the magazine has printed my story. If you don't have a subscription, then feel free to can rush out and buy four or five copies from the newsstand. Or you can read it online HERE. Or, you can be among the very first humans to get National Geographic Traveler on the iPad, the first issue of which includes my story with all of its multi-media layers.

I'd like to thank the many hands and minds that went into the final product, including (but not limited to) Janelle Nanos, Marilyn Terrell, Keith Bellows, Scott Stuckey, Jayne Wise, Krista Rossow, Jeannette Kimmel, and Suzanne Hackett. Thanks so much to all of you for helping me take an idea and make it a very real and fun adventure.

Digital Postcard: Punakha Dzong

I met Beth Whitman at the New York Times Travel Show where we were both on a panel about independent travel. She's a kindred spirit, a fellow guidebook writer, a wonderful wanderer and the founder of Wanderlust & Lipstick--a travel company for women. Beth knows Bhutan very well (so I'm jealous) and she sent me this about one of Bhutan's famous dzongs (the fortress-monasteries in this Buddhist kingdom). Thanks Beth!

Punakha dzong is easily the most beautiful of all the dzongs in Bhutan and has a storied history to boot.

First, you should know that a dzong is a combination of both a fortress and monastery and one is located in every district of the country. Dongs serve several purposes including protection for the region, an administrative seat for the government and they house the local monk body. Annual tsechus (festivals) are held in the courtyard of dzongs and villagers from the entire region walk for hours to attend, dressed in their finest traditional outfits.

Punakha dzong served as the seat of the country’s government up until 1955 (when it moved to the then new capital, Thimphu). Today, it is the winter home to the head abbot (called the Je Khenpo) and houses 600 or so monks. It’s here that the monks study Sanskrit scriptures and perform chants throughout the day.

The interior of the main temple is dominated by a large gilded statue of Buddha, flanked by Guru Rimpoche, Bhutan’s most revered lama who founded Buddhism in Bhutan, and Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, who unified the country in the 1630’s. Sitting behind glass and completely filling the side walls are a thousand small Buddha statues. Photography is forbidden in this sacred interior but stories linger and have been passed down through the generations.

One of the most fascinating legends concerns the near invasion of the Tibetan army in 1639. The Bhutanese army guarding the dzong was well outnumbered by the Tibetans – however they were quite clever.

While the Tibetans kept watch over the dzong in preparation for an attack, the Bhutanese marched out of one door of the dzong, walked around the corner and entered a secret entrance in the back, away from the eyes of the spying Tibetans. They then marched themselves out the front door once again. The Tibetans, thinking that they were too few to fight such a large army, fled without invading. This is an excellent example of how Bhutan has managed to stay independent for so long – despite being surrounded by both China and India.

The best time to visit the Punakha Dzong is in early spring when the purple jacaranda trees are in full bloom, the two rivers that merge right next to the dzong are raging and all of the monks are in residence. You might even have a chance to listen to the monks chant if you arrive by mid-morning.

Midsummer Armchair Travels

It's really, really hot outside. Over a hundred degrees and sweltering, so that the heat hits you in endless waves coming down from the sky and up from the asphalt-smelling street. Unlike most Americans in July, I am not going elsewhere or traveling or "getting away". In fact, I am staying put in my air-conditioned home office because frankly, I like Washington, DC in the summer. It's fairly empty and fun.

That doesn't mean I'm not busy. I'm incredibly busy because I'm trying to (start) writing a book, which is more difficult than most people will ever know. It's excruciating and delightful at the same time. Since writers also have to make money (do we?), I'm still pumping out blog bits left and right. There is no rhyme or reason to these little articles--I just pick a place on the map that means something to me and write about it. Hence the following titles:

• Why Luxembourg Matters (Because really, I love Luxembourg!)
  
• Ben Franklin, Traveler (A July 4th nod to my favorite founding father)
  
• Top 10 Reasons to Travel to Canada (For Canada Day!)
• How to Pack for a Trip to Antarctica (I was assigned it, so no choice here)
• Is Thailand Safe Now? (Because I think it is)

So there. I listed some random blog bits I wrote in the past two weeks. I also flew to the Pacific Northwest for the first time. And I also finally completed my expense accounts for my trip to Antarctica, which involved three months of travel in 17 countries. It was the mother of all expense accounts and I am grateful to Netflix for getting me through the difficult days of gluesticking Guatemalan bus receipts onto construction paper.

Alright, so that's, like, my life right now. Not traveling, just writing, and glad for it. Don't worry though, I'll be back on the road soon enough.

A Fish Tale

When you travel so much, what kind of pet can you have? Well, I really, really wanna dog. I love dogs, but with my schedule it's just not feasible (or fair to the dog). Loving all animals, I have had about every kind of pet you can have and borrow other peoples' pets when they're away.

Nowadays, I settled on fish and have a big 60 gallon tank filled with white sand. I tried keeping a big, beautiful school of dainty neon tetras, which I love, but alas, they are so dainty that it was very hard keeping them alive. In fact, I ended up just killing a lot of Amazonian fish. Feeling somewhat guilty about this, I finally switched up to a heartier South American fish--a pair of bright orange tiger oscars that I named Diego and Santos, respectively. The tiny fish quickly grew into very large and very aggressive fish (which is what they're supposed to do) and became quite unruly--tapping the glass, splashing and fighting.

Also, Diego became greedier and greedier and grew larger and fatter and stronger than Santos. And then one day, Santos started swimming upside down and then eventually he was just floating upside down. Full-grown oscars are too gigantic to flush, so I had to have poor Santos euthanized (it pays to be married to a fish biologist). It was a mercy killing, given that Diego had already bitten him numerous times and peeled away large amounts of his scales (why, oh why must you be so mean, tiger oscar?)

The next day, Diego finished off the only other living thing in the tank, my 4-year old plecostoma, who I thought was immune given his size (big) and that he had been there first. I nearly cried I was so distraught.
I mean, I understand Diego's nature is to be territorial and aggressive, but the pleco was there first!

And so now I have a very large, single, angry fish who looms mightily in his territory and stares up at me with his fierce jaw every morning. I have changed his name to "Bastard" because it is far more fitting than the more humane and saintly Diego.

Bastard is the perfect pet for someone who travels lots because not only does he not care about me in the slightest, but if he doesn't get fed for a few days, it's not a big deal. He gets his fill when there is food and then makes it last. I still wish I had my itty bitty neon tetras just smiling and glowing in the light, but for now, Bastard will do.

Back from Bermuda

Still alive and kicking, just kind of swamped in work and stuff . . . "and stuff" including my past two Smithsonian lectures (India & Antarctica), lots of little work tidbits (copywriting, blogging, a few features and some articlettes) and my wedding. Yeah, I got married 10 days ago, so I've been rather occupied.

Hence, my recent trip to Bermuda was neither work-related nor anything-related other than relaxing with my better half. Now I realize all the cliche that surrounds a honeymoon to Bermuda, but there's a reason for that. I mean, I could have and would have gone anywhere in the world on my honeymoon, but I wanted something close (1 hour 45 minute flight from an airport that's a 5-minute cab ride from home, so CHECK), beautiful beaches (CHECK), civilized (CHECK), good diving (CHECK) and low maintenance (CHECK). Too bad it doesn't come in a cheaper package, but regardless of the high cost and cliche and all the rest of it, I have to say, I LOVE Bermuda. So many things are just right there. This was my second trip and will definitely not be my last.

Anyway, the above video clip is the last beach I swam on before reluctantly returning to my busy life in the city. Here's to real vacations--the kind without sightseeing or agendas or waking up too early. Just days and days of endless pink beaches to choose from.

I alway have Paris

Another month has passed and just how have I been spending it? Working, mainly. Working and recovering from work and then working again. Everyone keeps asking me where I'm going to next and honestly, I don't know.

Then I got this whirlwind assignment to Paris, which I could not say no to (say no to Paris?). Anyway, I had a lovely time, spent 24 hours hitting the streets and roaming about the most lovely urban space on the planet. Then I got stuck, for a LONG time. I dealt with three canceled flights and lots of bad airline inefficiency and all the rest of it--in the end, I coped by going back into the city for a few more hours and sitting in one of my favorite little corner parks in the 14th arrondissement.

So here I am, on a park bench, making excuses and just talking at the camera, explaining to all these imaginary readers how I'm sitting on a park bench in Paris, althought it looks as I could have been filming anywhere.

In the end I made it home, just in time to deliver my big lecture on Antarctica at the Smithsonian. It was a great crowd with lots of friends, old and new. Still, today, the day after, I'm still savoring the aftertaste of my too-short, too-crazy weekend in Paris.

LIVE Online

How do you even begin to try and capture a 10,000-mile overland journey from your home all the way to Antarctica? It's a baffling task, but I'm going to try and do exactly that next week during a 1-hour LIVE WEBINAR with National Geographic Expeditions on April 12th, 2010 at 8 PM EST. During the webinar, visitors will be able to watch and listen to my presentation live from their own computers at home and even ask questions via chat. I'm looking forward to finally connecting with all my fabulous followers and readers.

You can register for the free event HERE and read more about it at Intelligent Travel. Thanks again to both National Geographic Expeditions and Lindblad Expeditions for arranging this event and for all your wonderful support.

(Photo by Sisse Brimberg & Cotton Coulson/KEENPRESS)

Home

Home again, home again. I made it.

I'm back from Antarctica and my epic bus journey and the forever road of the Americas: North, Central, and South. It feels great to be home, especially since it's spring now, and it was fall way down there, and somehow I managed to skip all of the snow heavy winter. It took me a day to remember where I was, four days to unpack, and about two weeks to get back to my website. Yeah, that's how slow I am. So now I'm back at my desk and writing away.

It was a grand adventure friends, this throwing myself across the globe and finding penguins at the other end of it all. Everyone keeps asking where I'm headed to next and honestly, I don't know. There are so many options, but for the time being, I'm quite content to sit tight and be in one place for one time.

Bus 2 Antarctica

For those who don't know, for the last 5 weeks I've been riding buses all the way from my hometown of Washington, DC to the southernmost point I can get to: Antarctica. As of today, I've made it to the southern part of Patagonia and am waiting for my final bus to Ushuaia where I will board the National Geographic Explorer en route to Antarctica.

These two journeys--the 10,000 mile overland jaunt from National Geographic headquarters all the way down to the bottommost point of the America as well as the voyage to Antarctica--both represent dreams come true for me as a traveler. I am still overwhelmed and grateful for the opportunity that I have to do this.

I have not been updating this blog as much during that time as I have been blogging directly for National Geographic Traveler's main blog, Intelligent Travel.

Please follow along on my travels:

• Read the entire trip here: Bus2Antarctica

• See photos & videos from my trip: National Geographic

• Follow what I'm doing RIGHT now on Twitter: @Bus2Antarctica

Thanks & see you all in Antarctica!

Auld Lang Syne

Another year comes to an end. And what a year:

Began on a cold January day when I took off on a plane, staring down at the empty eternal snowdrifts of Kamchatka, landing in Korea and then on to chaotic, chili-scented Bangkok, then to South America for my television debut in Chile and the overwhelming landscapes of Patagonia (still breathless). Then sleeping horizontal on the seven seats of a spanking new A380 all the way to gold-spattered Dubai, a midnight tour of that constant skyscraping in sand, then across the changing blue waters of the Indian Ocean and dropping down into the blissful Maldives (ah! wonderful). Finding serenity on those beaches, on the complete separateness of that island country, the wet sun there and the world of coral underneath and the shark shadows. On to Wales, land of my fathers, to the high perfect mountains, to the low shores packed with baby lambs and crumbling gray castles and ancient words whispered in even more ancient pubs. A swift run through Londontown, a city of real memories and the true spirit of travel that simmers in every rail station--an obligatory pass through Terminal 5. Back to South America. To Argentina, it's tango, it's chic, and then it's jungle. The red earth and brown rivers, the thundering spray of Iguazu Falls in the moonlight, drowning me upwards. A wet face and crossing into rainy season Brazil, a peak at Paraguay. Midnight in Lima and back to JFK, a regretful second home for me this year. To Vienna, to expensive coffees on the cobblestone square and clean shops and European preciseness, an inconsistent preamble to . . . INDIA. An imagined land of my lifetime became real. The shiny brass, the pink dawn and pink dust and the unbearable heat of a land sucked dry. Tigers in the grass, literally. Elephants and tigers that roared, holy temples with smiling toothless priests. Silk, more dust. Stone of the ages piled into beautiful towers, carved into stories that never die. Vomiting along the road, my head brought low, which is the real point of India after all. Happy go lucky kids, then needing a rest from India until the next time which I pray daily will be soon. India is the infection that never leaves, the constant affair. Texas for the 4th of July. Shooting fireworks in the bayou. A birthday, and then to Iceland, another country that I love that starts with "I". The deep black sand desert interior, the highlands, off road and sinking tires, hot sulphur springs and my brother bundled up in synthetic fabrics. Walking four days across the naked landscape--sun overhead, snow, rock and moss underfoot. Crossing bare streams so cold it disappeared all feeling and crept up to your knees. The exhaustion from a day of walking and the endpoint of more glaciers than stone, impassable grey rivers that roared, ripping white waterfalls. To Canada, the west. Helicopters in the Rockies, scrambling up 10,000 ft. high peaks. Testing my fears and gripping white knuckles to stone without any handles. Seeing sky beneath my feet. To Maine. To simple, quiet, seaside farms, 2-day county fairs with prizewinning blueberry jam, to high and low tides and kind women heavy with life and knowledge of lobster anatomy. Back to Iceland where the skies move too quickly. Beautiful music, rainy streets and a nippy cold dip in the steel ocean, big waves passing over my icicle head. Night after night in Reykjavik, even dancing. Utah, another land of my fathers. High rock mountains once more. Snow-dusted peaks, the end of the summer hinted. Alma mater walkabout, the happiness of family closeby. The Great Salt Lake running out of shades of blue and watching the furrowed deep grooves of a lifeless landscape from the air. Rescued again by family from LAX, a terrible place. A layover-cum-picnic with palm trees and fog, then one more plane and another . . to Tahiti and beyond. French Polynesia unveiled--the old library books became real, my toes dug into the shell-sharp sand. Grass skirts without irony and drums that still beat in my ears. Hitchhiking 'round Moorea, falling in drowsy love with an island I may never see again. To Quebec, the great far north, snowless but dark pine green, to women singing beautiful French carols in a brick church. And back again, then off . . to Tasmania, to the colored facades of Hobart, to a ship that carried me past icebergs and diving penguins to uninhabited islands, and into the fjords of New Zealand. And then New Zealand fully, it's December warmth, it's blue skies and rough beaches and dinosaur-sized tree ferns. Flying back across the Pacific, reviewing and remembering it all, dizzy with the mileage I have covered, filled with joy and gratitude for such a rich year of great travel. Thankful to all my friends out there who've shared with me.

And now two days left until 2010. Another great journey awaits. Happy New Year to all of you who read and thanks for being there.

Farewell to New Zealand

About to board a flight in Auckland and whirl my way back across an ocean and a continent to home in Washington, DC, after which I'll have exactly three days to get my stuff in order and head off on my great new adventure for 2010: taking the bus to Antarctica. In a way, it's been fitting that New Zealand be the unwitting preamble to my next long haul overland journey. This country is small, green, peaceful, and most conducive to quiet reflection--the calm before the happy storm of travel on which I am about to embark. I really love this place. Driving to the airport, I enjoyed watching all the fern-covered hills, the black and white dairy cows and the impertinent sheep.

How I spent my last day in New Zealand? Out at sea, in the Bay of Plenty, fishing. That night, we barbecued snapper (delicious), piled a pavlova high with fruit and cream, and I relished the last few hours of my December summer before heading back into the snow of the Northern Hemisphere's winter.

I am excited. I have a lot to be excited about. Also a little overwhelmed with the longest to do list in the world and three days to do it in. But it'll all work out. Stay tuned . . .

Official Announcement

So it's really official. In a week's time I'll be boarding a bus in Washington, DC and heading to Antarctica . . . overland. I've been trying to get to the world's least-known continent forever, and now it's finally happening. I'm thrilled. I'm even more thrilled to be making the journey through all three of the Americas and doing it the hard (fun) way--on a bus! And . . . I'm thrilled most of all to be writing about the whole thing for National Geographic Traveler.

You can read my official first post here at Intelligent Travel. You can also follow me on Twitter where I'll be tweeting away the whole trip on @Bus2Antarctica and sometime next year, there will be an article on paper that you can read.

I leave in a week and as always, am totally unprepared. It's alright, because I have Christmas to celebrate first and a mental checklist a mile long. But the important thing right now is to say THANK YOU to a whole lot of people.

I am so grateful to all the people who've listened to my crazy plan to ride the bus to Antarctica and nodded, smiled, and agreed to help. So, thank you National Geographic Traveler! Thanks to Keith, Marilyn, Janelle, Amy, Stefan, Jeannette, Gio and all the others who are pitching in to make this the best bus trip to Antarctica ever.

You know that feeling when something really exciting is about to happen but not yet, so you have to just sit there and wait except you can't because you have so much to do to get ready? Well, that's how I feel right now.

Magnificent Milford Sound

Coming to the end of my life at sea for two weeks. We finally made it to the New Zealand 'mainland' (meaning South Island), cleared customs, and then head straight for Fiordlands National Park, which is incidentally the largest single contiguous national park in the world. Amazingly, we had good weather the day we were in Milford Sound. Wow. There is little I can say about this place other than it had me gawking for hours and left me with a sore neck. The cliffs shoot straight up from the see for thousands and thousands of feet--mile high mountains that come straight down to the water. Also, we couldn't anchor because the water was too deep.

I have been blogging at sea this whole time, which is not so easy I discovered, given the rocking ship, satellite internet that comes and goes but I'm not complaining. It's pretty miraculous that one gets to blog at all whilst totally unconnected to anything out in the middle of the Southern Ocean.

So, Milford Sound, according to Trip Advisor, is the most beloved and favorite destination of the entire world. Understanding the slanted democracy of the internet, I'm taking this with a whole pile full of salt, but I will say that having spent a day in the middle of Milford Sound, it's definitely up there wherever 'up there' may be. The natural beauty, sharp mountains, mist rolling in and out, the streaks of waterfalls--all of it was just so overwhelmingly powerful. I'm still trying to decide if we like it because it makes us feel so impossibly small or because it is such a pure view no matter where you look. Not a house, car, or neon sign to be seen. Just rippled water, vertical rock and in my lucky case, a blue, blue sky.

Baby Penguins at Macquarie Island

You ever have one of those days and you think that you're the luckiest person alive? Well, that was me yesterday, when I spent the entire day on the black sand beach of Australia's Macquarie Island--the southernmost point in that country. Although I was warned of horrific storms, we still had great weather, and I just laid in the sand and watched these baby king penguins for hours. Such melodramatic little creatures! For the next week I'll be exploring some rare and wonderful islands aboard the Orion, an expedition ship that ventures to the lesser-known islands of New Zealand. So far it's been utterly fabulous.