travel — Page 2

The Deer of Bushy Park

June 19, 2012 By Lauren

Whoever said that big cities lack green space hasn’t properly explored London.

There are eight Royal Parks in London, filled with trees, ponds, paths, and wildlife. And we’re not just talking birds and hedgehogs. The parks are home to a number of deer, who roam freely year-round. It’s like a giant petting zoo, minus the petting.

Deer in Bushy Park, London — Staring contest. Winner: the deer.

Bushy Park London was my favorite, because it was my local park. Every day on the way to work, I strolled past Hampton Court Palace and straight through Bushy Park’s deer territory. Although I have an irrational fear of grazing cows, the deer were a welcome feature of my morning commute.

An avid hunter, Henry VIII was responsible for the introduction of red deer and fallow deer to Bushy Park. Although the parks aren’t used for hunting any more, there is an annual cull in order to keep the deer from depleting their own food supply. Feeding the deer is strictly forbidden (or off with your head!), so don’t even think about it.

Deer on the lookout, Bushy Park, London — Neighborhood Watch

IF YOU GO: Book early to get your London flights, especially with the upcoming 2012 Olympics. Take a train from Waterloo station to Hampton Court. The park is about a five minute walk from the station, just north of Hampton Court Palace. Southwest London is a lovely area, well worth the 40 minute train ride.

Summertime in Spain

June 18, 2012 By Lauren

Quick, somebody get me a pitcher of Sangria!

It’s summertime, and that’s got me dreaming of Spain – sleeping in, lolling about by the ocean, tapas in the afternoon, and late-night revelry. Of course, there’s more to summertime in Spain than being a total lush, so don’t miss out on the good stuff.

Spanish Architecture

I know virtually nothing about architecture, but I know that when it comes to Spain – and Barcelona in particular – there’s one guy that stands out.

Antoni Gaudí.

Gaudi Park, Barcelona, Spain — If elves don’t live here, my whole life has been a lie.

The highlight of my stay in Barcelona was easily Gaudí Park, which showcases his fascinating architecture and the best panoramic view in town. And after all that sightseeing, you’ve definitely earned your evening sangria.

Spanish Beaches

For sunny, clean beaches, go to the port city of Alicante in the south of Spain. Look into Alicante airport transfers so you don’t waste any time getting there. There are multiple beaches to explore, with an abundance of white sand and shady promenades.

Alicante, Spain — If sand’s not your thing, lounge around on a boat instead. Image from Flickr by decar66.

Spanish Festivals

Arguably the most famous festival in Spain, San Fermín takes place every summer in Pamplona. More commonly known as the Running of the Bulls, it is nine full days of absolute madness. Attendees dress in matching white clothes accessorized with red bandannas, and wait anxiously for the morning, when the bulls thunder down the streets.

Running of the Bulls, Pamplona, Spain — When it all gets to be too much, make a hasty exit.

Now, seriously. Where’s that sangria?

The Dangers of Hitchhiking

June 12, 2012 By Guest Blogger

Thanks to Chael Graham for today’s guest post. If you are interested in guest posting with IShouldLogOff, email us at info [at] ishouldlogoff.com. Thanks!

When you travel you start to discover new things, and sometimes those new things become
major players in your lifestyle. Tons of people discover travel blogs and are inspired to finally release the
fear they might have held before, to take the proverbial leap from static to enter a world of movement.
Traveling opens up new doors; you learn new languages, you see new lands and feel new sensations.
That hollow feeling at your center tells you that you are happy, that you are somewhere where you can
finally enjoy living.

Traveling around the world on the cheap is a popular search query, and often you can find the
best information possible about how to find top hotels, where to eat, and how to haggle in foreign
countries. That’s all well and good. Unfortunately, however, the most inexpensive way to get from A to
D will require you to overcome a major prejudice that most of us seem to be born with: that hitchhiking
is dangerous; no questions asked, no precautions taken. I’m here to write that it’s not so black and
white.

The real danger of hitchhiking is to fall in love with it and therefore increase the already quite
slim chances that something truly horrible befalls you. I am not a random blogger writing about
something I only know from research. I am a person, a son, a brother, a cousin. I am not a homeless
vagabond, although that shouldn’t affect how you take this. If I assume that you, reading this, are an
educated person who shared the prejudices against “hitchhiking” that I long ago shed, I find it relevant
to tell you something of myself.

I studied at university.

I love my family.

I have been hitchhiking through Latin America for almost 3 years.

The only time something bad ever happened to me was when I made a stupid choice to walk
through a bad part of Medellin in the dead of night. I wasn’t hitchhiking, I was just walking.

Hitchhiking is whatever you want it to be. Anyone can hitchhike. You can hitchhike for a short
distance, a short amount of time, hell you can even just give it a shot and fail and say you tried.
Hitchhiking is not for any one kind of person. You might see me on the street and think that I’m a
homeless vagabond, and that’s alright. But even the most clean-cut of you can hitch.

I use hitchhiking not only to talk to locals and learn new languages, to see C and B while trying
to get from A to D, but also to see the world from the eyes of someone on the fringe of society. Thanks
to most peoples’ bias (including my family and friends, who have told me they would never pick me up if
they saw me), hitchhiking can be used to observe and critique the absurdities of the untrusting world.

But that’s not what hitchhiking has to be about. I want whoever is reading this to think more
profoundly about what hitchhiking actually is, and who is actually doing it. If you know couchsurfing.org,
then you know that at first you use it to save money that would otherwise be spent on hostels, but with
time the main reason simply becomes “because it’s the best way to learn.” Hitchhiking is no different.
It’s an exercise in patience, trust and faith in circumstance.

And the experiences that come to you are diverse. I’ve hitchhiked on mules in Ecuador, and was picked up by a congressman in Nicaragua. I’ve met all types of truckers, from the speed nuts to the
family oriented, and I’ve slept on their cargo, be it sugar, rice or metal scraps. I’ve met the whole
families of people who have picked me up, like the Solis family in Chile, with whom I spent Christmas
and who treated me like their third son. So many of my circumstances are thanks to hitchhiking; an
Argentinian asado, a Brazilian evangelic church service, a winter solstice hot spring gathering, a Peruvian
Ayahuasca trip, free passage to Machu Picchu, countless countless countless nights in safe with good
people in their good homes. I’ve hitchhiked thousands of kilometers in one sitting through Patagonia, or
just a few kilometers on the back of motorcycles and pick-up trucks everywhere else.

Somehow hitching makes you feel that you’re closer to the real than you might otherwise be.

Author: Chael has a continuous travel narrative and drawings fromhitchhiking around the world at velabas.com.

Where Did Our Love Go? The Five Hour Rule

February 14, 2012 By Lauren

Traveling with someone you love is an experience like no other. It can bring you closer, but if you’re not careful, it can push you apart. This Valentine’s Day, traveling couples can keep the romance alive by taking a temporary break from each other.

Don’t panic – sometimes five minutes apart is all it takes.

Coming Undone

The crowd was growing at the roadside bakery, and I could sense the salesman getting impatient. People pushed and jostled to make eye contact with him, but he was looking at me. It was my turn.

My boyfriend, Jared, was getting impatient, too.

“Just pick some,” he said, nudging me forward. “It’s not that hard!”

Rage flared up in my chest. It was that hard. I was tired, hungry, and overwhelmed by Luxor. For some reason, the task of choosing pastries pushed me over the edge.

“I don’t know,” I shouted at him. “I don’t know which ones I want! Stop rushing me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. The men around us chuckled and nudged each other knowingly.

I wanted to punch them. I wanted to punch the salesman. I wanted to punch Jared.

Sensing danger, Jared quickly pulled me aside.
“It’s okay,” he said in his most soothing voice. “It’s just pastry.”

Of course it was just pastry. So why was I so upset?

The Rule

My mother operates under a theory she calls The Five-Hour Rule. She claims that she read about it in an ‘online study,’ but I can’t find evidence of it anywhere.

The foundation of the theory is this: after five consecutive hours with someone, you need to take a break from them.
Read a book. Go for a walk by yourself. Take a nap. Whatever it is, block out time to do something alone. When you feel recharged, feel free to lay eyes on each other again.

Although its origins are dubious, I have to admit that my mom is on to something.
I love my boyfriend. For the last 3 1/2 years, I’ve loved traveling with him, living with him, and even – occasionally – working with him here in Korea, where we were placed at the same school. (How’s that for being in each other’s pockets?)
But sometimes when we’re traveling, I want him to step off.

It doesn’t happen often, but it happens.

Suddenly, everything is annoying: butterflies, laughing children, ice cream cones, and especially, my poor travel partner, Jared. I’m thinking only of my personal comfort and have lost the ability to consider anyone’s feelings but mine.
He calls it the ‘Hunger Rage.’ Admittedly, he has a point. Things get ugly when I haven’t eaten. But to my amazement, it usually happens at the five hour mark.

Worse, the same thing is happening on his end. He’s tired, the money belt is too tight, and he can’t work out why his girlfriend has morphed into a wailing banshee who can’t choose a bloody pastry.

The five hour rule doesn’t just apply to your partner. It applies to everybody you spend time with: your best friend, your kid, complete strangers, the Dalai Lama – everybody.

We all need a little ‘me’ time when we’re on the road, even when we’re with the ones we love.

Emotional deterioration starts subtly, but progresses rapidly.
Hour one: What the – ? Oh, he just stepped on my shoe.

Hour two: Why does he insist on walking so fast behind me?

Hour three: Get off my shoe.

Hour four: Step on me again and I’ll claw you in the face.

Hour five: One more time and this relationship is over.

Accidents become unforgiveable. Your loved one becomes your whipping boy. It’s not their fault. It’s not your fault.

It’s the five-hour rule. You’ve been side-by-side for too many hours, navigating foreign territory in a language you might not speak.

Sometimes you’re not in a position to separate from your travel buddy when the five-hour mark looms. It’s dark, crowded, unfamiliar, and you’re too far from your hostel to feel comfortable going solo.
That’s okay. Just ignore each other for a while.

Don’t talk unless you have to. Sit at separate tables of a coffee shop. Pretend you’ve never even seen that person before. Eat something and don’t share it with anyone.

Eventually, you’ll simmer down. Your energy and coping mechanisms will return, leaving you capable of travel and human companionship again.

At that point, go ahead and scoot your chairs closer together. Make any necessary apologies and have a good laugh.

If you feel up to it, you could even share a pastry.

La Brea Tar Pits

January 9, 2012 By Danny

When we think of Los Angeles we think of fast cars, beautiful beaches and Hollywood. Some of us think of earthquakes and others still start to think of all the fabulous natural attractions of California such as the San Andreas Fault, Death Valley, Yosemite Valley and the La Brea Tar Pits.

The La Brea Tar Pits are something of a surprise for most visitors to Los Angeles. The pits were formed tens of thousands of years ago (but after the dinosaurs). Tar is somewhat of a misnomer, as the pits are giant deposits of heavy crude oil that seep to the surface. As this happens the oil becomes asphalt. Normally the pits are covered in shallow water – a huge attraction for animals. As the oil seeps to the surface and thickens into asphalt, it traps the animals, creating a fossil record of the plants and animals that roamed Los Angeles for tens of thousands of years. The pits themselves are now one of the most accessible, popular and well known paleontological sites in the world.

Every year new, perfectly preserved animals are uncovered and are well presented across the park and the nearby Page Museum. When construction began for an underground parking garage in 2006 for the art museum, animals such as a saber-toothed cat, bison, mastodon and even an American Lion were discovered…all this and the tar pits had already been studied for nearly 100 years.

IF YOU GO: There are plenty of cheap flights to Los Angeles so go and visit these pits. Bring a lunch and enjoy the day walking around the specimens on display and maybe take that picnic while watching an active excavation at Pit 91. When you’ve had your fill of the outside attractions take some time to explore the museum as well!

To see more of our favorite photos from around the world check out our travel photo page. Let us know your favorites and we’ll include them in our photo of the day series.

Photo Credit: Courtesy of Flickr user Phil Scoville via a creative commons license.