Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Here's another story that would never have existed if I were a magazine editor: Kevin
Chroust'srecountingofthetimeheranwiththebullsinPamplona.Here'swhatIwouldhave
said if I were his writing boss: “Kevin, does the world really need to be subjected to another
story about reckless young men running with those tiresome bulls in Pamplona? In fact, do
we really need another story at all involving bulls and Spain and manhood in any manner
whatsoever? No, Kevin. No, we do not.”
Well,asitturnsout,Yes,Kevin.Yes,wedo.Butweonlyneedthisstorywhenit'stoldwith
such bare, vibrating honesty. There is not a trace of machismo in this piece, only a near-tear-
ful longing for the most intense possible act of self-revolution. Until reading Chroust's story,
I never really understood why a young man might need to run with the bulls in Pamplona
(honestly, I've never even really understood why people need to ride motorcycles or get on
roller coasters), but now—thanks to this vivid explosion of writing—I get it. I get why there
are times in life when people need to put themselves “in arbitrary danger” in order to burst
throughtotheotherside,tosomewhite-hotexperienceofpurificationmoreradiantthanany-
thing that mere safety could ever provide.
Still, though, I think the most dangerous story in this collection is Colleen Kinder's essay
“Blot Out”—about her experiences walking through the streets of Cairo as a woman, both
covered and uncovered. The risks that she took on the day she describes here are staggering
in their audacity. An older woman—knowing more of men's potential savagery and infused
with a more ingrained sense of self-protection—probably would not have done what she did.
I myself would rather run with the bulls every afternoon for a month than expose myself to
the potential of such true and vicious physical violence. And yet the ending is so victorious!
A victory over violation! A victory over the absurd and the oppressive, both!
Speaking of which, I put some absurd stuff in here, too, just for fun. Travel should be
just as much about light delights as about dark daring, and I've included some simple and
charming tales, perfectly told. Lynn Yaeger's account of how much she packs when she
travels—and why—is a messy, crazed amuse-bouche in the midst of these heavier meals.
I also want to stress that I read all these articles without their bylines attached. I know a
lot of writers personally, and I didn't want to be swayed in my decision making by either my
affinity or my distaste for anybody. (I was more afraid of committing an act of revenge than
an act of nepotism.) My curiosity over authorship drove me nuts during the process, but in
the end I was glad that I read everything blind, for it turns out that I am now madly in love
withsomewritersI'dneverheardofbefore—likethebraveandstalwartJudyCopeland,who
strikes me as the most sensible person you could ever meet, but who also took herself all the
way to Papua New Guinea because of a dream she had about a red line appearing on a map
of the world.
For the most part, I was completely surprised and delighted to find out who had written
these pieces (though in some cases I was not surprised at all; you don't really need a byline
