Posing For Solo Pictures

Posing for travel photos is key. It's the most important part of your trip. Take one bad pic, your vacation is toast.

I learned this the hard way, on my trip to Europe back in '06.



This is me in London. Awkward on so many levels. Look at me trying to look all Rico Suave. This picture is a stain.

In my defense, I was trying to be like this guy:



Look how COOL he is. Why couldn't I look this cool??

It didn't get any better in Paris.



I guess I had a thing for railings. And I don't know what my hand is doing on my hip.

This was killing me for days. Couldn't I just be like everyone else and take a decent picture? Does no one else have this problem??

It wasn't until Amsterdam where I found my groove.



Here I am at the Heineken Experience. I should point out that my friends took this when I wasn't looking.

By the end of my trip, I realized that the best pictures are the simplest. The ones that are less about posing. The ones that show personality yet involve your surroundings.

They're also the ones that involve kegs of Dutch beer.

Traveling With Friends

There's an article on Matador Travel that got me thinking:

How to Deal With Friends While Traveling

I left a comment, but there's one more piece of advice I'd like to offer.

If you and your friends reach a point in your travels where you just can't stand each other, duke it out. I'm serious. Find a nice, open area and have at it. FIGHT.

I'm not saying beat your friends up till they're a bloody mess. I'm just saying both of you need to let some aggression out. So there's nothing wrong with putting your backpacking buddy in a headlock. Just don't break any bones.

A wide open area works well for a fight. St. Mark's Square works well. The Inca Trail does not. Outdoors would be preferable, although if you're in an English pub, you could get away with it. You might get help from the patrons.

Consider your surroundings when you grapple. You don't want to fight in high altitudes, since you'll get tired easily. Again, the Sacred Valley is No Fighting Zone. Is there a fountain close to where you're fighting? That's even better. First one to get completely soaked loses. This works best on a hot day. Oh that reminds me, make sure you're hydrated. All that slap-fighting and such can take a lot out of you.

If there is more than one person in your traveling party that you have a beef with, consider a Battle Royal. Last man (or woman) standing is the winner. Or, if you'd like to foster team dynamics, a tag team battle works well here.

If you decide to follow my advice, it's best to pack accordingly. Make sure to bring three very long pieces of nylon rope; Enough rope to from a wrestling ring. You can be creative with your surrounding and use trees, stop signs or statues as ring posts. To be inclusive, convince a local to officiate your bout. And if your new-found referee declares you the winner, buy him a drink.

Some people might find this advice barbaric. Whatever. This isn't about them. This is about you and your friends hashing out your differences the way men and women have done for years. By senseless physical horseplay.

It'll work. Trust me.

L.A. Adventures: Chelsea/Inter Milan at the Rose Bowl

On a hot Pasadena evening, I caught a football match. You know, real football. Not that American kind. I'm talkin' FOOTBALL. Where guys don't touch the ball with their hands and dive on the field without anyone touching them.

Chelsea played Inter Milan, as part of the World Football Challenge. Also part of the challenge, but playing elsewhere in the States, are AC Milan and Club America. These matches are friendlies played in round-robin style. This is hardly Champions League levels of prestige, but hey, you can spend part of your summer in sunny Southern California.

I went to the match with my friends Nate, Giulia and Ken. We arrived at the Rose Bowl 30 minutes late. It happens. This is LA.



Our seats were close to the pitch (Ooh look at me with my football terminology). Having never been to a match before, I had no idea that the majority of the time is spent standing up. I was exhausted from the drive in, so I chose to sit. This hampered my view a little.



This is Inter making a run...



...and this is Chelsea about to take a corner kick. I was rooting for Chelsea because part of my tour of London included a visit to Stamford Bridge, which remains a highlight of my time there.



While missing the first 20 minutes of the game (oops, sorry, MATCH), we saw the halftime entertainment in its entirety. According to Nate, the singer's name was Andy. Andy from Aremenia. I looked up at the Jumbotron and saw this. She wasn't so bad...




...until I realized Andy was the dude with the tight black jeans and yellow shirt. He wasn't so bad either. There were also belly dancers on stage, but I was too stunned to take any pictures. Sorry.



The second half proved uneventful, except for a lone Chelsea goal on a penalty kick. The rest of the match was spent taking in all the sights (such as the two Inter guys in the picture above doing ab workouts throughout the half) and listening to Nate and Ken talk football formations and English Premier League news. Now I know how my friends feel when I talk about UCLA basketball. They're probably thinking, "What is this guy talking about? He's speaking but I can't understand a WORD he's saying!" Yeah, that's how I felt. Sorry guys.

The match ended at 10. We didn't get out of the Rose Bowl until 11:15. That's actually pretty good. The night was capped with a jaunt to the Red Lion Inn in Silverlake. Bratwurst never tasted so good.



Did I mention this was on a work night? I didn't get home until 1:45 AM. I don't do that often, but the following day as I sit at work in a daze wondering what the hell just happened, I question my choice to stay up late. And then I plan for the next outing.

The Niche

I found this article on my twitter feed last week.

Why Travel Writers Really Need a Niche

The article suggests to "find a specific topic that you are passionate about (and no, “travel” is not specific enough), and focus on writing about that topic."

I read this article and became disheartened. While I love writing about travel, I don't have a niche. I haven't been abroad for that long to be considered an expert in anything.

While I'm sad that I can't think of a niche right away, I realize the niches are found over time. And the more I try to find a niche, the more frustrated I'll become. And the desire to write will die.

Screw that.

In the meantime, I'll keep writing, honing the craft, finding my voice. Although I will say that after some thought, I have a feeling my niche will be somewhat related to this picture:



I think I'll rename my blog "Me and the Cuy." That's pretty precise, right?

Stateside

A year ago on this day, I was riding an elephant in Chiang Mai.

Two years ago, I was on a plane to Lima, ready to hike the Sacred Trail of the Incas.

Today, I'm in L.A., minutes away from meeting with friends, watching fireworks and eating pulled pork sandwiches.

This is the first time I've celebrated Independence Day stateside in three years. I enjoyed being abroad every July 4th. It made me more aware of my place in this gigantic world. It made me proud to be an American. But it also made me more aware of cultures that are not my own.

But there's nothing like a Fourth of July BBQ. I've missed those.

Kokoreç

There's a section in the Rick Steves guide to Istanbul devoted to street food. Along with mussels,kebabs and sandwiches, you can also get something called Kokoreç.


*Credit: Turkish Politics in Action*

Kokoreç is basically grilled sheep intestines, seasoned, and served with tomatoes and peppers. I don't know how it tastes, but I aim to eat one of these bad boys. Hold the tomato.

Could it be any worse than balut? Or cuy? I doubt it. I'll try most foods, especially if they're sold by street vendors. Am I crazy? Probably.

Has anyone had Kokoreç ? What's it like? Should I be warned?