Me and my guidebook had full conversations from subjects such as Sandinistas to drug running. And it was always there with a joke for me to laugh at. But for some reason, it never laughed at my jokes.
And did you ever throw down your guidebook on the middle of a dusty…
( 11/13: I had a typo on my time. I ran the marathon in 4:40:03 not in 4:04:03. My brother, Kyle was aghast at the typo. You see, he ran the Louisville marathon in 4:20:00 and it would be devastating to his ego if his little bro topped his time. Of course I was nursing a bum knee, the marathon was so crowded that our first two miles took us 32 minutes, and I was running with two other guys which meant that we stopped for more water breaks more than if I had been running solo. But I’m sure Kyle won’t take any of that into consideration. But hey, I’m smarter and…
You never know where in the world Kelsey will turn up or why he is there. He went to Bangladesh because his underwear was made there. He went to Romania to spend the night alone in Dracula’s Castle. And no one is sure why he went to Kosovo. He claims it was to PlayStation, but that doesn’t make any sense at all, does it?
Lucky for you, to win a HD Video Flip camera plus a few Frommer’s travel guides all you have to do is guess Kelsey’s secret location, not his motives. Each week you’ll be presented with photo of the location and…
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If you could go anywhere that was a 4.5-hour trip (plane, train, or automobile) away, where would you go? (Bet it’s not Amherst!) Post in the comments below and/or tweet me @kelseytimmerman (I need something to keep me busy while I drive clear across Indiana and Ohio!)…
I’m especially excited about this piece because it’s set to sounds I recorded with my mini-disc player I purchased before my 2007 trip. I’m pretty much a beginner when it comes to recording audio, but the folks at the World Vision Report have been awesome and offered great advice.
Sometimes I record the essays at home using my mini-disc player, and other times they have me record at Indiana Public Radio’s studio on the Ball State campus. Either way,…
As someone who has had to answer the question, “So what brings you to Bangladesh?” by holding up a pair of Jingle These Christmas boxers and saying, “My underwear were made here,” some might think I could vie for the title ofThe World’s Craziest Traveler.
But there’s a whole level of crazy that can’t be matched by underwear quests funded by second mortgages.
I was working at an adventure outfitter in North Carolina, when I encountered the craziest traveler I’ve ever met.
“I need a sleeping bag,” the man said, “a warm one.”
He looked normal enough: well dressed, bathed, no slobber.
“Where you heading?” I asked, expecting to hear something…
(This weekend I got into a conversation on Twitter with @sloane about microfinance. The Grameen Bank is a shining example of how giving women access to credit can lift families out of poverty. Here are a few photos I took when I visited the Grameen Bank in Bangladesh in 2007 . Below that is an excerpt from “Where Am I Wearing? about the experience. )
Nobel Peace Prize winner Mohammad Yunnus believes in Bangladesh, too. He formed the Grameen Bank, which gives microcredit loans to people who couldn’t get loans from a traditional bank.
I went with a representative of the Bank to see the program in action.
Because it was a rest day from my marathon training (ran 12 miles yesterday) and I’m a total sucker for their “The Most Interesting Man in the World” commercials so I bought a 6 pack.
Have you ever met a traveler that acted and talked as if he or she was the most interesting person in the World?
If you mention kitty litter, they’ve got a tail about their trip in the Ukraine. Mention a hat and they’ll rundown a list of hats and their cultural significance arranged by country alphabetically. Don’t even talk about politics!
The thing I really find funny about the Dos Equis ads are that I’ve met people who…
…said they were questioned by the police because they found them interesting.
I was walking down the street in Jhalakthi, Bangladesh, when an elephant asked me for a dollar bill.
The elephant’s snout was smeared with red paint and two smiling locals sat atop his back. The crowded streets managed to make way for the elephant. Kids smiled and pointed. Rickshaw drivers piled on the sidewalk.
They all stared at me. The tiny proboscis at the end of the elephant’s trunk wiggled with anticipation.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out some money, and the elephant ever so gently picked it from my hand.
I pitied the elephant. She was trapped in a life of cheap tricks and crowded streets. I can still see the coarse black hairs bristling her trunk. I can hear her breath and see her snotty snout.
I’ve been watching/listening/browsing the news a lot lately for updates on Honduras. Usually after talks of Michael Jackson and Iran the coup gets a brief mention. When I hear the stories, I think back to my time in the country in 2005, which I briefly mention in my book, and I see faces.
