501 Places

Phnom Penh

We were being dragged around yet another Chinese craft workshop and saw a lady making a beautiful embroidered picture. When we stopped to admire her work the owner quickly switched to salesman mode and told us it could be packaged and sold to us for only $80. We had nowhere to pack this, no inclination to buy it, and more than that no spare $80 in our budget for an unexpected purchase like this. When the news was conveyed to the lady via our interpreter/guide, she looked despondent and said something along the lines of “I’m sorry you don’t like it”.

For many years I didn’t understand the significance of this episode. As two travelling youngsters we had explained to our guide that $80 was a lot of money for us; that we had a tight budget, and that we had scrimped and saved to be able to come all the way to China. When he asked about our earnings and his eyes lit up at our reply we were quick to point out the cost of our mortgage, the price of food, clothing, fuel, taxes etc. “We’re not rich” was our message. We might earn a lot by Chinese standards but the cost of living is so high at home that much of that money goes on basic unavoidable expenses.

In the 15 years since our trip to China I’ve seen many others make the same argument, playing down our wealth when visiting countries where the majority of people live hand to mouth and have no bank account or possibility of saving. It’s done with the best of intentions, usually to try and correct the perception of a local person of their infinite wealth.

But I realise that on the most simple level we did live in a completely different world to that woman in the Chinese workshop. She didn’t need to know anything about our income or living costs to make her mind up that we were incredibly rich. We were there, and that was enough!

On our recent travels in Laos and Cambodia, most of those we spoke to had never left their borders and had only travelled to another city in their country to sort out important administration. A trip overseas was out of the question for two reasons: one is money of course, but the other is the basic concept of leisure time. The idea of having five weeks paid annual leave (or even the American 10 days) is a true luxury and any time off in the week is usually spent on family business. A day out to the nearest river or beach is often a major treat.

So when we arrive, travelling through their country for no reason other than our own desire to be there, it is this freedom to travel that gives away our wealth before any thought of finances. The fact that, in the case of our visit to China, we were young twentysomethings, makes this assumption so much stronger.

So now, when we travel to the poorer parts of Asia or Africa we no longer protest our financial modesty. We accept that assumptions will be made, that our ability to travel around the world because we want to will mark us out as priveleged. Starting off with that mindset might even allow us to interact with people in a more honest and respectful manner as a result.

Another crazy idea to cross off the list? It certainly was, and we took the opportunity last Wednesday and headed into London. It was a sunny day but cool; perfect for covering 15 miles along the city’s streets. We set off intent on visiting each street of the famous board game, and photographing our evidence at every step of the way.

View Monopoly walk in a larger map

There they are: the 22 streets on the London Monopoly Board, along with the 4 stations that make up this most famous of board games. A glance at the map reveals two outlying points; Old Kent Road, the token entry from south London, and Marylebone Station, in the north west and a good distance away from the other streets on the board.

Fenchurch St Station

We started at Old Kent Road, and the approach to it from Elephant and Castle betrayed its designation as a brown square; down at heel and surrounded by boarded up post-war housing projects, it’s a far cry from the places we’d later be seeing.

From here it was over Tower Bridge, and a couple of short hops to Fenchurch Street and eastwards to Whitechapel. From Liverpool Street there is a long sweep of around 5 miles around the periphery of central London, heading to King’s Cross and then along Euston Road, eventually reaching Marylebone Station.

The most famous platform at Kings Cross

Having completed the outliers, we headed for Marble Arch and then down Park Lane before entering Mayfair between the exclusive motor car showrooms.

From this point the streets come thick and fast, and we clocked the remaining 18 or so streets in little over an hour. Our final stop was Fleet Street, and we arrived here just under six hours after our arrival in south London.

As for the other squares? For the prison we chose the Tower of London, while for Go To Jail we witnessed an arrest taking place on the Strand.

Chance? That was easy, with so many bookmaker shops to choose from. While Community Chest was a bit trickier. See which of these two best represent it…

COMMUNITY Chest ?

Community CHEST (?)

We found an electric company on Fleet Street and the offices of the water works on Pentonville Road. And as for Free Parking? That might be the hardest thing to spot in London, but we did find Aldi’s in Old Kent Road offering free parking for their shoppers.

The humble Vine Street

The biggest surprise? Vine Street. It’s a tiny dead end behind Piccadilly, and is hard to imagine why the maker of the Monopoly board chose this inconsequential street to sit on a world famous board.

While not the most picturesque walk on offer in London, it certainly covers a diverse mix of neighbourhoods and shows many faces of our capital city. At 15 miles it’s not a good choice for a casual stroll, although can easily be broken into two or three separate walks for those with the time to do it. The great news is that there are plenty of places to stop for food and drink along the way. In fact, while we took the option of walking the route and photographing each stop, the more common way of ‘doing the Monopoly board’ is by using the squares as a route for a massive pub crawl.

You can see photos of every square on the Monopoly board here.

Since I woke up in a contrary mood this morning, I thought I’d have a bit of fun with this post. There are so many posts and articles written about the virtues of travel that I figured I would play Devil’s Advocate and take the opposite view. I mean let’s face it, millions of people never travel and lead a perfectly happy existence, right? Whatever the magic ingredient to a life of fulfilment, is travel in itself really worthy of a place on the list?

Here are 10 reasons why travel is a bad idea. Feel free to add more if you wish:

1. Travel is expensive. Flights, accommodation, trips and activities all cost money. And eating out all the time must drain the finances, apart from places like SE Asia, where you don’t know what you’re eating anyway. Staying at home allows you to save money that can be put to more sensible things, such as a home, a car or investment in your own future.

2. Travelling damages your career. Those who embark on long-term travel are giving a finger to the conventional world and showing their lack of commitment to a stable career path. How can you be taken seriously for a promotion where you insist on taking all of your holiday allowance and then use it to go to the other side of the world, where you can’t be reached if a client needs your help?

3. Travel destroys the environment. All those flights emit a lot of CO2, and it does make a difference. What’s so wrong with your neighbourhood that you have to pollute our planet just to get your kicks?

4. Travel doesn’t actually teach you anything. If you’re the kind of person who’s smart enough to learn the lessons from your experiences on the road, you’d have learned them at home too. If you haven’t got an open and curious mind at home, being somewhere else isn’t going to suddenly alter your cranial capacity.

5. There is no need to travel anymore. Want to know what the Taj Mahal is like? There are thousands of images, videos and articles online and in books. You can also watch many travel TV shows about your place of interest. Others have been there and done it, so why not save yourself the hassle and just follow their trip from the comfort of home.

6. Travel is dangerous. Heard about all these plane crashes? Kidnappings? Suicide attacks? Coach crashes? Tsunamis? Earthquakes? Need I go on? It’s a dangerous world out there. Your time and money might be better spent in protecting your own home and family.

7. Travel is uncomfortable. Why would you spend 20 hours on a plane, then sleep in someone else’s bed, getting attacked by nasty insects, suffering mystery sicknesses and struggling with unbearable heat and humidity? Are you mad?

8. You don’t know what you’re eating abroad. Foreign people eat all sorts of weird stuff. In some places they eat guinea pigs, in others snails, or worms, or even dogs! How do you know what they are putting on your plate when you can’t even read the menu?

9. They don’t speak English over there. What’s the point of ‘mixing with the locals’ when they can’t even speak English. How are we supposed to communicate? Even those that say they do can be hard to understand. Why would you go to a faraway place, just to find yourself struggling to be understood? I mean, I thought everyone would know English by now.

10. It’s just too much hassle. Airport security, ash clouds, changing money, passports and visas; even thinking about all that’s involved is enough to cause stress. Where’s the hassle in staying at home?

Right. That’s done the trick. I’ll finish here as I need to book some flights. Happy travels!

New York: Manhattan skyline

One of our favourite walks in New York was to wander down from our apartment on the Upper East Side and along Madison Avenue towards Midtown. If you’re after some serious people watching, Madison Avenue in the 60s (between 60th and 69th Streets) takes some beating. On these blocks you’ll find many of the top designer boutiques, and the shop windows scream out ostentatious wealth. Women, blinged to the eyeballs, parade along the avenue (or hop along it via taxi), gathering an ever increasing array of bags as they go.

New Bond Street

One of the striking memories of walking along here is the number of middle aged ladies who bore more than a passing resemblance to the late Michael Jackson. Extensive (and expensive) sessions of plastic surgery had left some with what can only be called a patchwork face, and we would conclude that they were now paying the litigation fees that allowed so many lawyers to live in the very same neighbourhood.

Walking through London’s Mayfair this week brought back memories of our year of living in the swanky part of a big city. Among the embassies and high fee management consultancies that have their offices in the streets of this exclusive neighbourhood you’ll find businesses that scream out wealth. Aston Martin and Ferrari dealerships, the most garish interior designs and fashion stores that cater for the decidedly strange tastes of the millionaire locals.

Good taste - for some, obviously?

While we didn’t see the patchwork faces in Mayfair we certainly saw the outlandish outfits that seem to fit the requirements of the super-rich. On Bond Street, home to the likes of Jimmy Choo and Louis Vuitton, well dressed ladies strutted from store to store, while in the nearby restaurants their wealthy husbands sat smoking their large cigars and discussing the credit crunch (I’m guessing here).

As we walked through Mayfair, its leafy parks and quiet, orderly streets, we both agreed on one thing. It’s a nice neighbourhood to look at and wander around, but neither of us would feel comfortable ever calling it home (the £4m price tags for ordinary looking apartments rendered this a hypothetical discussion). I got a sense here, just as I had in our neighbourhood in Manhattan, that there was little feeling of being part of a local community. Residents here had put up walls around themselves; both physical in the form of their secure homes and apartments, and emotional in terms of their detachment from their surroundings. (While living in NYC and doing my daily walk to work along 2nd Avenue I was constantly amazed at the number of people who would talk to themselves without any inhibition)

Mayfair life

Earlier this month we were on the remote Scottish island of Barra and felt the exact opposite. People there may not have easy access to many of the trappings of material wealth. But their strong sense of community brought comfort and happiness and allowed them to compensate in ingenious ways for the lack of easy access to the mainland, and the conveniences that a population mass can offer. It’s quite a contrast to witness.

Next time you’re in London and fancy a wander through  an interesting neighbourhood, head west and go to Mayfair. It’s well worth a look, even if you might feel like a stranger while you’re there.

One year ago today I sat down and nervously wrote my first blog post; 501 Places was born. 309 posts later, I look back on a year’s writing and take a lot of pleasure in seeing how much of my life’s experiences, my thoughts and opinions I’ve managed to capture in these pages. Managing a travel blog has kept me busier than I thought but I am convinced it has been time well spent.

On this first anniversary of 501 Places I thought I would take stock and consider some of the things I’ve learned in my 12 months of blogging.

1. I blog, so that makes me a blogger, in the same way that I travel and that makes me a traveller. It’s something I do but it’s not a label I immediately use when people ask me what I do. That question usually means “how do you make a living?” and being a blogger doesn’t (as yet) contribute in any meaningful way toward that.

2. On a similar note, although 501 Places is a travel blog I’m reluctant to call myself a travel writer. I did at one time toy with pursuing this route, but I since figured that just because I travel and I write, I shouldn’t necessarily feel obliged or entitled to put the two together. As a freelance writer I have the ability to earn the money I need to travel on my terms and in my time, through my copywriting, website content and magazine (non-travel) work. If I choose to write about my travels, I do so primarily for my own satisfaction. There are some excellent travel writers out there, and I take the opportunity to read their work and try to learn from them, without wishing to make the sacrifices to lifestyle that they have to make in order to eek out a living. I admire their commitment to their craft, and do it without a shred of envy.

3. I’ve learned over the last year that I prefer to focus on travelling when I’m away and leave the writing until I get home. I did take my laptop to SE Asia in December and managed to write several posts while out there, but it was probably the only time that I’ve really found my blog to be a chore. Since that trip we’ve travelled twice and the laptop has stayed at home, while I’ve rested my Twitter account for the duration of the trip. I just feel that there’s only a short time to enjoy being somewhere, while there is plenty of time to write about my experiences when I’m back home. I accept that this attitude alone will hinder any plans for world travel blog domination; and that’s ok with me.

4. I really enjoy writing my posts and communicating with those who take the time to read them. If I didn’t take great enjoyment from blogging then I’m sure I wouldn’t be doing it. I mean, why would I? What other reason would I have? If it’s the money, then anyone (bar a very select few) will agree that a job on the minimum wage will pay as well if not better.

5. Ruthless editing is essential. It’s easy when I write commissioned pieces elsewhere. They are checked, changed to fit around other stories or images, headlines added and typos eliminated. A professional editor makes all the difference. When I blog, I’m on my own (although my wife does an excellent job of reading my posts every evening and spotting my typos!) It falls to me to re-read my work, and all too often I find that a paragraph I wrote with some satisfaction turns out to be irrelevant or distracting to the post. It hurts, but sometimes I have to just delete a whole section of my work to make the post read better.

6. It took me several months to work out what I like to write about. My early posts were very much about destinations. Then I learned that I got more pleasure from analysing our travel behaviour; from considering the different aspects of cultures and their consequences; and of being contrary in challenging some of our most commonly held beliefs. Spinning this into destination themed posts, as I tried to do in SE Asia, gave me the most satisfaction.

7. I can never predict the post that will get most attention. There are the posts that I think about, plan carefully and quite honestly get excited about posting. I check them carefully and press publish feeling great about creating what I think is a creditable piece of writing. And then nothing. Nada. Zilch. By contrast some of my most popular posts have been churned out in a short time and I’ve published without feeling good about them, only to see them receive thousands of hits. Even after a year, I confess I’m a lousy judge of what will receive most attention.

8. It doesn’t really matter if I don’t post for a few days or have a day off. I was fixated at first about posting every single day. Then when we travelled in SE Asia for a month my postings became less frequent. Guess what happened? That’s right: nothing. My traffic dropped off for a while, and then came back once I started writing again. Now I’m more relaxed about when I post. I’ll usually post three to four times a week, but if I’m snowed under with other work then that’s just fine. No-one’s going to miss me, and no-one is going to get hurt.

9. Have I mentioned that I have great fun with 501 Places? I still look forward to writing my posts and I get pleasure from replying to comments and engaging in conversations about my topics via Twitter or by email. I’ve also been really lucky to have met face to face so many of the great writers who I’ve got to know thanks to 501 Places. Looking back at my archive of a year’s posts I do get a feeling of satisfaction that I’ve managed to put so many of my thoughts and experiences in writing.

I look forward to enjoying whatever the next 12 months will hold in store for me with 501 Places. As for advice to those starting out with a new travel blog? The main thing is to write with freedom, enthusiasm and expression about the things you enjoy writing about, and not worry about your site statistics and reader numbers. Blogging is a great way to make friends, become a better writer and even a way of expressing your own thoughts and attitudes in a more articulate way. It’s up to you to love what you do; if others like what you write, the traffic stats will take care of themselves.