On the Jagged Edge in
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ISSUE
95
IN THIS ISSUE
6 Mailstop
All hail Team Kuururjuaq! +Plus Outpost Contests
9 Tripping
10
Anticipation: when it’s all about the wait
the Sun God Reigns 32 Where Story and Photos by Dario De Santis
On The Fringe
Birthplace of Western civilization, land of Homer and wide indigo seas— experts agree: there’s never been a better time to visit Greece! From the Peloponnese Peninsula to ancient Athens to the turquoise isle of Santorini, Greece runs the gamut of travel opportunity
More under-reported, quirky-human, natural-world stories: when bikes fly and police chase their own tails, where playing bingo is not a game, what top pigeons go for, and how to lasso a megaton asteroid
Thrillseeker 15 Praising Arizona
By Paul Auerbach rom its famed slot canyons to its kayakable waterways, Ari ona is any adventurer’s wonderland
20 New! MEC’s The Traveller’s Edge he iconic canoe and five top Canadian spots for any paddler
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Local Knowledge 23 General Misbehaviours By Simon Vaughan
Like No Place on Earth
Story and Photos by Jeff Fuchs In Patagonia’s Los Glaciares National Park, the jagged ice fields tell a gripping story of planetary survival. Follow Outpost editor-at-large Jeff Fuchs as he sets out to listen to the sounds of silence in a land of unrivalled beauty
ur super secret spy guy is at it again all donning spiffy spy shorts and camouflaged flip flops and snooping around a Panamanian beach
28 Shutter Stop
The art of long exposure: turning your photos into kinetic landscapes and pastoral-like paintings
Backpacker Buzz 74 News from Hostelling International
In the th installment of its series, a hostelling photographer reveals his top tips
80
Outpost Traveller Connecting you to your next adventure
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Anticipation
Tripping
On The Fringe
Thrillseeker
Mec's The Traveller's Edge
Local Knowledge
Shutter Stop
by Jaclyn Truss
www.outpostmagazine.com
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Travel is 90 percent anticipation and 10 percent recollection Edward Streeter He has a point there, doesn’t he? Hard to deny, when your departure date is circled seven times on your calendar, and your stomach is doing jumping jacks counting down the days. Suddenly work seems bearable, exams just a stumbling block to a larger goal—soon you’re about to get lost, and you’re mired in anticipation and the promise of the unknown. Your trip is planned, you’ve read every blog and site. You’ve made your list and you’ve checked it twice (the spelunking sounds cool … the snorkelling looks nice!). Or have just packed a passport, hoping it’ll suffice. It is not just a trip, it’s a search for happiness, a time to live instead of just survive, a time to conjure and to dream. You have visions of walking on water at the Sea of Galilee, of leaving your footprint on the virgin sands of Luskentyre beach in Scotland. Of touring and devouring the circle of Thailand, or being lost in the reverie of a red-orange sunset in Sognefjord, Norway. Of quietly kayaking the lagoons of the South Pacific as you venture around the Yasawa Islands. Of finding yourself awash in the cotton castle hot springs of Pamukkale, Turkey; or braving the sometimes caustic cafes of classical Paris. Who says all who wander are unwillingly lost? (Actually, it was JRR Tolkien.) If the experience of your life can be sliced by the headings “travel” and “in between travel,” you have come to a unique understanding of yourself, and are maybe even strangely aware of how much that in between means to you. Because sometimes it’s about the anticipation, the expectation, the preparation—the getting of the gear, the researching every deal, the mapping every road. Whether guarded by your trusty travel guide or wanderlust uncharted, the promise, apprehension even, of something exotic, something unknown, can be more than you can bear. This is the curtain to adventure, soon to be marked only by memory, photographs and trinkets. In the trek to the trek, sometimes the thing is just about getting there, where the hope for discovery and renewal is as life-altering as the journey itself.
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2013 • SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER
29/07/2013 12:47:45 PM
S t or ya
ndP
hot
o s by
GREE WHERE THE SU
FROM THE AEGEAN COAST TO SPARTA AND ATHENS, FROM THE RUINS OF MYCENAE TO THE FAMED GREEK ISLES, NOW IS THE TIME TO EXPLORE THE LAND WHERE WESTERN CIVILIZATION BEGAN
I
stare at the silhouette of the city that the sunset makes pop on the fire-red sky. Some clouds come between me and the rays, refracting them in many golden beams that illuminate the buildings in ethereal light. The white stones of the old city become flushed with gold and shine on the walls of the Swabian Castle, the austere Basilica of St. Nicholas, and the tall belfry of San Sabino’s Cathedral, which seen from here, looks like the minaret of a mosque. With its maze of interwoven winding alleys, Barivecchia, Italy, could easily be mistaken for the medina of an Arabic city. While the sun remains relentless in its descent, I follow the profile of the city moving away, until it merges with the
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horizon and becomes a distant shadow. Silently I say my umpteenth goodbye to my hometown on the southeastern coast of Italy, to my family and my friends, with the mind lost in the places and moments of my childhood. After all, I am an emigrant, albeit an atypical one, since I am not leaving because of poverty or promises of a better life; instead am driven by an uncurbed thirst for experience and adventure. Now we are in open sea, and the journey has just started: it will take at least 16 hours for the ferry from Bari to reach Patra, Greece. It is early August, and I’m going there to meet Angeliki, my girlfriend, and spend the holidays with her family, before getting back to Istanbul, the city where we live.
29/07/2013 1:06:32 PM
EECE
SUN GOD REIGNS
www.outpostmagazine.com
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2013 • SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER
29/07/2013 1:06:43 PM
On the Southern Patagonian Ice Field of South America, expeditioner Jeff Fuchs sets out to trek one of the planet’s most pristine places Story and Photos by
Jeff Fuchs
The jagged edges of the famed Mount Fitz Roy in Patagonia
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29/07/2013 1:20:35 PM
Like No
Place on
Earth My eyes filled with tears as viper-like shards of ice blew up under my sunglasses—tiny crystals that were rocketing into me with little popping sounds. Though the wind, as always, was invisible, every sense screamed of its presence. It ripped at clothing, exfoliated the skin, sounded like a shrieking maniac, smelled of fresh ice, and tasted like clean water. Wind had been shooting through the stone and the ice in this part of the world for as long as the planet existed, and here in Patagonia, it had perfected its tactics. We are three bodies on an ice trek with that wonderful gift of travel— time. And have come to see a place that is on a kind of literal frontline of climate change: a narrow funnel of land that in a stunning expression of geography spreads eloquently across www.outpostmagazine.com
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southern Argentina, to the very tip of South America. Few places anywhere host such magnificent and potent winds—here they harry, they stalk, they bludgeon. Charlie, our guide, had motioned us to get down moments earlier, and here we lay, face down on the glacial ice, waiting out the howling air. Up ahead, I could make out the red jackets of Nana and Charlie nestling on the ice floor. Nana, a Taiwanese friend, had arrived here to see nothing but spires of ice and utter remoteness to be amidst her; and as I looked over at her now, it was as if the landscape itself was permeable, was trying to absorb her. Nana had the hunger and large eyes of someone who can be in awe without needing to speak. A native of Taipei, with powerful legs and an equivalent
will, she had hoped Patagonia would be exactly what we were taking in: a space entirely barren of people, encased in silver, whitish tones. I had spoken at length to her about coming here and already she was completely captivated. Charlie, a languid and seasoned guide who had become as much friend as he was local expert, was taking us further out into (and onto) the ice field. Like so many of these gracious elegant hunks of frozen water, the glacier beneath us was slowly melting. I had come not to analyze this but to simply see, feel and take it in—mostly because like many I believe “it” would inevitably change within a worryingly short period of time. Numbers don’t always give full impressions; sometimes they just frighten, and I wanted impressions.
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2013 • SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER
29/07/2013 1:20:47 PM
HOSTELLING INTERNATIONAL CANADA
BRITISH COLUMBIA AND ALBERTA REGIONS
BACKPACKER BUZZ
Greening the Wilderness With one click, you can help HI-Kananaskis Wilderness
Hostel cut its carbon footprint down by two-thirds
In a little grassy clearing on the side of Ribbon Creek Road, deep in the heart of Kananaskis country, there’s a little hostel that welcomes 2,000 guests every year. They come to play in this 4,000-square-kilometre outdoor playground in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies. There’s a creek not far from the hostel, and elk, bears and coyote have been known to wander through the yard. There are mountain vistas and trails for days out here. It’s little wonder, then, that HI-Kananaskis Wilderness Hostel cares a lot about the environment. But the hostel itself isn’t as environmentally friendly as it could be. Now, HI-Kananaskis is one of only 15 HI hostels around the entire world that could be awarded an HI-Sustainability Fund grant of £25,000 (approximately $40,000) to give the hostel a much needed upgrade that will better align the building with the place it calls home. SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER • 2013
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The current building has been there since 1970, but a hostel has been on the same property for a decade more. An old schoolhouse was moved to this plot of land along Ribbon Creek in 1960 to serve as a hostel. Parks Canada had put in place a policy that hostel guests could only arrive by foot or by bike, so Hostelling International chose Kananaskis as an ideal hostel location outside of Banff National Park that visitors from Calgary could get to by car. The schoolhouse was replaced by an A-frame building in 1961, and then that was replaced by two cabins in 1970. The cabins were expanded in 1971 but are still part of the hostel today. www.outpostmagazine.com
29/07/2013 1:27:36 PM
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HOSTELLING INTERNATIONAL CANADA
BRITISH COLUMBIA AND ALBERTA REGIONS
How to Take Travel Photos that Don’t Suck
In this issue, our guest writer/photographer is long-time HI member William Jans. He shares some useful tips to ensure your travel photos have that something special!
Many people say they spend a fortune on airfare and travelling, only to come back with photos that they don’t like. Don’t let that be you! It is pretty easy to get a massive improvement on your images with just a few easy tweaks. Many of these tips can apply whether you are in Bolivia or your own backyard. The best part is most are easy to implement. So without further ado, here are some simple tips to “turn up the good and turn down the suck!” TIP GET CLOSER! Move closer to what you think is interesting. This tip works best with wide angle lenses, since the field of view will include more surrounding area which can help tell the story, while allowing you to bring the main subject bigger in the frame. Being close and “wide” shows the ornate facial scarring of this Datoga woman in Tanzania, while showing background to place the image
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Photos and story by
William Jans
TIP INCLUDE PEOPLE! I promise this is your single best way to tell your stories of where you went and what you did. I would say about 90 percent of my travel photos have people in them. Many people come back with photos devoid of a single person because they were too shy to interact. Getting people photos can seem daunting, but it is not that hard...If you are polite, kind and excited, people will often be willing to play along. Often it’s about simply spending a few moments being sociable BEFORE pulling out a camera and politely asking for a photo. If you can learn a bit of the local language—and if you can make someone laugh!—that can help immensely. Learning the Massai phrase “there are no bedbugs in my bed” (aka“no problem”) helped earn a laugh or two. Location: Massai Mara, Tanzania
29/07/2013 1:28:39 PM
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L E V A R T e r u t n e v d a e f i l o t ought
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