Travel writing is a dangerous business. No doubt about it. Most of all, it’s dangerous for your bank account! Of course, that’s just writing in general. The travel part…
We travel because we suffer from too much curiosity Here are a couple of links you might enjoy about the dangers of travel writing.
First of all, a great article from the New York Times about one of the first budget travel writers in the business- John Wilcock.
Here is an excerpt:
JW: Today everythingās available.
NYT: So what does that make the role of travel writers today?
JW:Everyoneās turned into a travel writer. It started when people who were bankers and people like that went on vacation and realized that if they wrote something about the trip they could maybe take it off their taxes. But today, basically everybody writes about their travel. I donāt suppose you can say thereās nothing left to discover, but it certainly is hard.
NYT:Should we be happy or sad about this?
JW:Itās just an inevitable development. The way the world has gotten smaller all the time, itās easier to get around. itās easier to fly everywhere. That Ryanair guy started doing $1 flights to obscure towns that nobody had ever heard of before all of the sudden they became tourist centers.
NYT:You wrote in the 1970s that most most travel writing is just āpublic relations bull.ā Is that true today?
JW: Things have changed a lot since then. One of the things Iād like to claim is that the underground press changed the nature of almost all newspaper and magazine writing. Travel writing today is much more interesting than it was in those days. When I was working at The Times everything was incredibly impersonal. Basically, you werenāt allowed to have an opinion at all. And nowadays itās almost the reverse, almost everything is written from the personal point of view. So things have changed tremendously.
NYT:What was this Travel Directory you founded?
JW: When I first went to Mexico, I wrote in my column that Iād like to call and see people along the way. From that evolved a directory back in the early ā60s, which eventually had people all over the world in it who were willing to offer varying degrees of hospitality to travelers.
NYT: It sounds like the original CouchSurfing.
JW: It wasnāt called that back in those days, but thatās what it was, of course. I wouldnāt be surprised if you could still Google the Travel Directory. I bet it ended up somewhere. [Note: It did.]
NYT: I assume that at 83, you travel a bit more luxuriously than you used to.
JW: No, I still travel as cheaply as I can. I donāt look 83, I look about 60-something, and Iām actually pretty active still. Iām not really handicapped: my eyes are going a bit and my hearingās going a bit, but otherwise Iām in pretty good shape and I live pretty much the way I always have. When Iām staying with somebody and they say āIām sorry, we only have a couch,ā I say āListen, Iāve slept on billiard tables and in bathtubs.ā Iād like to think Iām as adaptable as I always was.
So, it’s never been easy, but in terms of competition, there has never been more. Even in the ‘vagabond’ niche which I started writing in in 2001 when there were about three people using the term. Check out this great new vagabond blog.Vagabond Paris
Artemisā quest has been to āfind some new way to define personal happiness.ā Answers to lifeās big questions, he discovered, require mobility. āWhen most people are born they are taught they need to own certain things. Weāre all embedded in a matrix designed to keep people at work.ā People, who admire his decision, always wistfully say, āI canāt be that courageous. I canāt be that brave.ā He adds, āBut Iām not much any of those thingsā¦ Iām just a little crazy. Itās a different mental place.ā
A space thatās proved instructive. āA day has not gone by that I have not learnt something new, or met someone interesting. I spend a good portion of my time finding out what makes people happy. For some people itās their kids, for some itās perfecting juggling, or finding a great jazz concert, or finishing a piece of art.
Why Paris is special
Paris, a hotbed of artists, many living in squats and communes, has proved an ideal base. āItās friendly to people who donāt have a steady job. Who opt for a free and liberal lifestyle.ā The Parisians have also proved to be endearingly open-minded. āSometimes Iāll be at a bar and start talking to some guy. As weāre leaving, heāll say, āSo where are you headedā and Iāll say, āTurn down the street. See that lamp? Iām there.ā And heāll say, āOh thatās cool. Why donāt you crash on my couch instead.ā
And finally, here is a small feature from the blog A Dangerous Business where they showcase a traveler or writer each week and discuss the dangerous business of travel writing. Can you guess who this is?
1. How do you define the word ātraveler,ā and why would you consider yourself one?
Itās a funny thing, this idea of travelers and tourists. To me, a tourist is someone who has a set agenda. They know where they will go, what they will do, and when they will return. A traveler, on the other hand, operates on an altogether more free form consciousness. Plans can change, and when you travel, if you arenāt flexible, you often miss out on the best things. Yes, Iām definitely a traveler, but sometimes I donāt even like to be labeled by this definition. I almost never have the budget to travel so one way tickets usually get me to my destination. Over the past decade, Iāve learned that as long as I can carry all my possessions, itās cheaper to actually move to a place. Not to mention the experience of living and working in a foreign culture gives you an even broader perspective than just traveling there. As such, Iām often a traveler, but more often I am what I like to call a āmoovistā. I move to new countries more often than I travel to them.
Are you a travel writer? What do you think? Is it a dangerous business? Is there a way to earn a living at it?