Sunday, November 11, 2007

Get lost


‘One of the great joys of Prague is finding yourself completely lost.’ ‘You don’t need to know where you’re going; wandering aimlessly is one of the best ways to see New York.’ ‘The winding alleys of Toledo will have you lost in minutes, and you’ll love it!’

Admit it. Every day you take the same bus to school or drive the same way to work. You see the same old things so often that you don’t even see them anymore. When was the last time you ditched the routine and risked getting lost?

It may cost you some time, you might have to get up a bit earlier, and it might sound like stating the bleeding obvious, but next Wednesday, you should go a different way. Walk a different way to the bottle shop, catch a different bus in the morning or get off at an earlier stop, get off the freeway and hit the city streets. It’ll get your brain moving. Go on, give it a try.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

More photos than you’ve had hot dinners


Where do people get this idea that their photos are in any way interesting or important? Who decided that blurry pictures of drunken bridesmaids, dripping babies in long white frocks, fat cousins on beaches or off-kilter European churches should be shown to all and sundry? It’s a conspiracy, and it’s time it was stopped.

Your life is worthy of photographic documentation. Don’t be bullied by your vacationing, event-loving acquaintances: Just because you’re stuck at home with no plans to get married or born again, doesn’t mean you’re not special. You’re life is, in fact, endlessly fascinating. All you need are the photos to prove it.

What’s your favourite thing? Shoes? Dinner? Reading? Watching DVDs and TV? Your dog? Every day, for one month, photograph it. Photograph the shoes you wear each day. Photograph, every day, your dinner, or the last page you read before bed, or the screen of whatever you’re watching or your dog when he gets up in the morning. At the end of the month you’ll have 30 pictures of shoes (or dinner, or books, or…) that your workmates will be just dying to see. (If you’re really the vindictive type, host an old-fashioned slide show.)

And don’t forget: commentary is the most important part of any viewing. ‘Oh yes, I remember this dinner! Oh, it was fabulous! See that cheese sauce? Well, there was a part over near the left-hand corner of the dish that got quite coagulated during cooking, and I was worried for a while it wouldn’t come off in the dishwasher. So I said to Derek, ‘perhaps you should put your plate in the sink to soak for a while’ and he said…’

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Speak to me


There are any number of frivolous ways to dabble in different cultures (see anything in this blog for example), but just for a minute, be serious. Please.

So much of traveling is about finding out how other people live: visiting tribes in the hills of Thailand, dancing with the locals in a bar in Nicaragua, renting an apartment for a couple of weeks in NYC. Knowing that things can be done differently gives us a fresh look at the way we do things. And sure, if you’re staying home you can have dinner in a Vietnamese restaurant or see a French film and get a little bit of that insight. Or you could become a volunteer English tutor for a recent migrant.

Do what now? Don’t you have to go to university for that?

You don’t. All over the country, community-based organisations train people to be volunteer English tutors: all it requires is a commitment of your time (try calling your local university, technical college, migrant centre or local government for more information). Even if there’s no such organization in your area or you don’t feel comfortable formally tutoring someone to speak English, lots of migrants really just want someone they can practise English with. All you have to do is have a little chat with them once a week or so. You can discuss football, cooking, weddings, what’s on TV or the country they’re from: whatever the two of you feel like talking about. Put up some notices around your local schools, shopping centres or cultural centres and see if anyone’s interested. Helping someone out with their English, seeing the way this improves their life, and at the same time finding out about a completely different way of living is one of the most rewarding experiences you can have.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Meet the locals, part 2


On a boring weekend, turn to the local newspaper’s community pages where organizations around town list the free or fund-raising activities they’re running this week. The chances of finding something you’d actually want to do are pretty slim, but try doing something you’d never have dreamed of doing.
Maybe the local hardware store is running an information session on how to fix a tap – not only will you gain a new skill, you’ll meet all those retired old guys who have nothing better to do than go to an information session on how to fix a tap. Maybe the local walking group is going for a hike out of town, giving you the chance to stretch your legs and have a chat with people who like wholewheat spaghetti and soy cheese. Or perhaps there’s a quilting show on at the town hall where you can adopt yourself a new grandma and get a few smocking tips.
There’s a good chance you’ll be bored out of your mind before half an hour has passed, but who knows: you might find that what your life has been missing all along is painting watercolors of dried flower arrangements. Either way, when your friends ask what you did on the weekend, you’ll have something to say.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Historical brain transplant


Maybe it’s not your home town you’re sick of. Maybe you’re sick of you. While the science of brain transplantation is not entirely perfected, there are other options for escaping the prison that is your skull (and no, we’re not talking about a ride on the peyote highway).

Instead of asking such vague questions as ‘What would Jesus do?’, try asking ‘What would Jesus do if he got to Kmart and the advertised special on fleece throw rugs was all sold out and the woman on the desk wouldn’t give him a raincheck and he was late for a meeting with his CEO?’. Or, for example, what would Genghis Khan do if he'd forgotten it was his four-year-old daughter's birthday this weekend and he had only two days to organise a children's party?

First, write the names of famous people on slips of paper. Second, write the names of places around town on other slips of paper. Randomly pull a slip from each bunch. What do you know: you’re Cleopatra, and you’re trying to buy a used car.

It might be pushing it to show up to the used car lot and pretend to be Cleopatra (but if you’re keen, hey, go for it!). But you might enjoy the exercise of doing everyday things while imagining you’re someone entirely different. For example, browse cupcake recipes online while imagining you’re Genghis Khan, then write up your experiences (as Genghis, of course) on your blog. Want more? Have all your friends choose a slip each from the ‘famous person’ pile, all visit the same spot from the ‘places in town’ pile, and each write up your experiences.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Show some civic pride


Yeah, yeah, you heart NY. Big deal. Everyone hearts NY.

But what if you heart Goulburn, Cockermouth or Yuba City? It’s not so easy to let everyone know. You can’t just stop by some unlicensed roadside souvenir seller to grab a t-shirt or pick up a stubbie holder for your beer. If you really love Goulburn,Cockermouth or Yuba City, you’re going to have to do a little work. But remember: love you’ve worked on is worth so much more than love you’ve bought.

What is it about Yuba City that really cranks your dial? What do the people who live in Cockermouth know about it that no one else knows about? Is there an in-joke about Goulburn that out-of-towners just won’t get?

Stick it on a t-shirt.

If you like a bit of glamour, pop into your local craft store and get yourself a Bedazzler and some puffy fabric paint. Or maybe you’d prefer iron-on varsity letters. If you have a printer, you can design a t-shirt on your computer and print it out onto iron-on transfer paper. If you don’t, go low-rent with a Sharpie and a white t-shirt.

You might be surprised how many people stop you and ask where you got the t-shirt (this is less likely to happen if you’ve scrawled on a white t-shirt with a Sharpie, of course). It feels pretty good to say, ‘Oh, I made it myself’. Alternatively, if the person is really desperate to get one of their own, you can claim to have bought it at some tiny shop about two hours’ drive away that’s only open on weekday mornings.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

‘Note the physiognomy of the line, representative of an overarching symbolism…’

String these phrases together: ‘great historical significance’; ‘a sublime expression of the creator’s philosophy’; ‘archetypical, yet ahead of its time’. Got it? OK, you are now a tour guide.

Get a group of friends together and hit your town’s cultural hotspot: a museum, a gallery, a stately home, an architectural wonder, the seat of government. If you don’t have anything approaching a cultural hotspot, go to Safeway or a car yard instead. (In fact, that’s an even better idea…)

Take turns playing tour guide: use your imagination, speak loudly, and whatever you do don’t include a single accurate fact. Talk, talk, talk! Hold up an umbrella so no one gets lost. You know you’re really doing well when strangers start joining in (if you’re feeling very ambitious, you could advertise your free tour in the local paper). Points are awarded for style and plausibility.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Taking care of business


You’ve just flown in and already the deliverables you’re enhancing are hung on a skyhook or outright left in the parking lot. You’ve got to ramp this baby up! You’ve got to get these offerings on the freeway! You’ve got plenty to envisage going forward, and all you want is some takeup of the best-of-breed product set. Let’s call a meeting!

The only thing cooler than a guy in a suit, sitting in a hotel bar, yelling on a cell phone, is eight guys in suits, sitting in a hotel bar, all simultaneously yelling on cell phones. Don’t you want to be one of those guys who flies into town to give a PowerPoint presentation? Well, don’t you?

Synchronise watches. You and your friends are going to put on your best suits (don’t have one? Try an op shop) and hit some downtown hotel for a breakfast meeting. The more upscale the hotel, the better: a Hilton or a Hyatt is just the ticket. Don’t forget your props: laptops if you have them, some kind of portable whiteboard, and your cell phones (extra points if you have a Bluetooth headset). If your own importance isn’t inspiration enough to get you diagramming, scoping future directions and visioning, then try giving yourselves a few tasks. You could have a prize for the first person who uses a sentence including functionality, user-defined, straw man, leading provider, monetise, robust and scalable, or give an award for best use of a noun as a verb, or verb as a noun (‘how are we matrixing this, Jeff?’ 'Well, Leon, that depends on how you action the learnings you've been tasked with').

Whatever you do, don’t forget: you are a Master of the Universe.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Miro, Miro on the wall


You’ve probably played the old surrealist game where you fold a piece of paper and someone draws the head, folds it and passes it on to someone who draws the body, and they fold it and pass it on to someone who draws the legs, then you unfold it and have a laugh at the results. This is a travel version of that game.

You’ll need at least four people for this excursion, so bribe your friends. Get them all together and fold a piece of paper in four. On the first section, secretly write a destination you’re going to visit (this could be Afghanistan or the mall or the future, whatever takes your fancy, and depending on the kind of resources you and your friends have). Fold the paper over and pass it to one of your friends, who secretly writes an activity (street theatre, knitting, a running race, fishing...).

They fold the paper over and pass it to the next person, who secretly writes a dress code (black tie, dress as clowns, ballerina outfits, diapers...). They fold it over and pass to the fourth person, who chooses an item you all have to bring (a potted plant, a champagne glass, the complete works of Mark Twain...).

Unfold the paper, and there’s your expedition. Depending on how tricky it’s going to be to execute, give yourselves a set amount of time to get together the things you need, then meet up and have your surrealist experience.

If you have more friends willing to join in, you could add other items such as budget, a manner of speaking (only using thee and thou, no swearing, no first names...), a mode of transport (hop everywhere, go by bike, use public transport...), or make up some of your own.

Make sure you take lots of photos so you can embarrass yourself in front of anyone who wasn’t silly enough to come along.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Performance art


Everyone has some skill, some talent, that makes them stand out from the crowd. Even you. Perhaps you can really capture a likeness with charcoal. Maybe you play guitar like Slava Grigoryan. Perhaps you have an amazing way with kids. Whatever your talent is, it’s time you took to the street to do something completely different.

There are far too many street performers who are good at what they do. No one needs to hear another beautifully finger-picked cover of Pink Floyd’s ‘Wish you were here’ or see their child lovingly rendered in cheeky pastel colors. What we need more of is inadequacy.

Get down to your local shopping strip and strut your stuff. Dress as a clown, blow up a couple of balloons and tout yourself as a master of the balloon animal (‘But Mr Clown, what is it?’ ‘It’s a jellyfish, poppet. Would you like a paramecium to go with that?’). Can’t even draw a stick figure? You need to set up an easel and churn out some caricatures. Won't mummy smile when she sees how you've drawn her little treasure? Borrow your brother’s guitar and make up some chords, loudly. Spray yourself silver and stand around fidgeting. Whatever you do, do it poorly, and do it with great enthusiasm. Then get out of town.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Snowed under


Snow domes, snow globes, snow shakers; call them what you like, these little beauties are a souvenir no package tourist can resist. Who doesn’t want a poorly rendered plastic representation of an over-exposed tourist spot stuck in a leaky plastic dome filled with anti-freeze and gummed-together glitter? Well, maybe you don’t, but the rest of the western world, apparently, does.

The Internet is awash with snow dome collectors, each of whom, it’s rumoured, owns two to three hundred of these overpriced dust collectors. But do they own a snow dome of your special little corner of the world? Unless you’re George W Bush, Queen Elizabeth or the Pope, the answer is probably no.

So if you want to make a packet on EBay (where ‘a packet’ equals about $12.99), make your own snow dome. You can do it the mass-produced way—pick up a snow dome kit from a craft store or the web, take a cheesy picture of your dog wearing a hat sitting under a sign that says ‘Welcome to [your town name here]’ and stick the two together—or you can make a truly unique expression of the individual charm of your home (‘Limited edition! Buy now! $13.99!’).

Here’s what you do.

  1. Get a clean jar. If you can only find a dirty jar, clean it
  2. Get some glitter
  3. Get a cheesy photo of your dog wearing a hat sitting under a sign that says ‘Welcome to [your town name here]’ and laminate it
  4. Get a lump of plasticine, stick it in the jar lid and stick your photo upright in the plasticine
  5. Fill the jar with water
  6. Pour in the glitter
  7. Screw on the lid
  8. Shake. Ooh and aah. Congratulate yourself.
  9. Sell on EBay. When it fails to sell, give to Grandma for Christmas.

If you’re feeling super-creative, eliminate step 3 and instead make a model of your favourite local thing (the bar you go to when there's nothing else to do, the parking lot where you used to have shopping trolley races, the cute girl who works at Safeway) out of modelling clay or flour-and-water dough, paint it, spray it with clear lacquer and continue as above. Then give it to the girl at Safeway and really freak her out.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Hef you got a lassance fer theez minkey?


There’s nothing quite like getting off a plane (or a bus or a train) in a country where the only things you can say are ‘hello’, ‘thank you’ and—perhaps inadvertently—‘can I put my ferret in your handbag?’. The struggle to be understood makes babies of all of us, unable to get even something as simple as air conditioning that works or a caesar salad with the bacon on the side. It’s frustrating, disabling and infuriating; it somehow strips away our ability to be ourselves. So why not do it for fun?

It would be great if you could convince everyone in your town to speak a different language for a day so you could recreate that feeling, but, let’s face it, the chances are slim. Short of having your eardrums removed, you’re going to be able to understand your neighbours. As a compromise, why not make it so they can’t understand you?

Spend a day speaking in an impenetrable accent. If you’re a perfectionist, research your accent and try to get your Latvian or Ghanian pronunciation to the point where it would fool a Lithuanian or Senegalese. If you’re not a perfectionist, take some tips from Peter Sellers’ Inspector Clouseau (of ‘Pink Panther’ fame) and just pretend you’re French. The main thing is that no one should understand a word you say.

‘Ken ee eff a zeesoor sawad weez zee barcon ern zee zoide?’
‘I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t quite hear you. You wanted a?’
‘Zeesoor sawad weez zee barcon ern zee zoide.’
‘I’m afraid we don’t sell wristwatches here sir. Have you tried Kmart?’

After a day of being hungry, lost and excluded, you’ll once again appreciate how good it is, sometimes, to be home.

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Stop motion



So you reckon nothing ever happens here? Let’s see if science agrees with you.

Grab a camera; if you have a tripod for it, so much the better. Stand somewhere you visit frequently (outside your front door might be the ideal spot) at a time of day you usually have a couple of minutes spare. Note your position carefully, open the lens up wide, and fire that shutter. Well done.

Here’s where it gets hard. Next day, at the same time, come back to the exact same spot and take the exact same photo. Repeat, daily, until you can bear to repeat no more (if you think doing this every day will drive you to the brink of madness, how about coming back once a week instead). Twenty photos should give you a nice cross-section, but if you really want a statistical sample, perhaps you should spread your recording over all four seasons.

Once you’re done, print your photos. Have a look. What’s different from photo to photo? Anything? For added impact, you could staple your photos in date order into a little book; flipping the pages will give you a better idea when something moves or changes. Why stop there? This is exactly the kind of conceptual art that trendy cafes lap up: why not print the lot in reasonably large format and ask your local latte spot (or public library) if they’ll exhibit your work?

Thursday, May 31, 2007

The conversation challenge


One of the great things about traveling is the way you find yourself talking to all kinds of people about all kinds of things. Once you hit the road it seems like no subject is too personal, especially if you’re talking to an attractive Scandinavian backpacker and have a mojito or two under your belt.

Don’t you wish you could really get to know people like you do when you’re on vacation? While it might be hard to track down a Scandinavian backpacker in your local bar, perhaps you’ll find that the light of kinship flares just as brightly in the eyes of a tractor mechanic or chartered accountant from your very own home town.

If you manage to get chatting in your local diner, congratulate yourself. But if you really want to take the conversation challenge, try this one. Here’s a list of five questions: if you can get your prattling partner to answer at least three of them (and try to work them into the thread of the conversation—don’t just blurt them out) you may just get that ‘I feel like I really know you even though we just met’ experience.

  • What did you dream about last night?
  • What was the best toy you ever owned?
  • What’s the worst illness you’ve had?
  • When did you last play sport?
  • What’s something you’re particularly good at?

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

This man won’t ‘aggle!


What could be more evocative, exotic and downright entrancing than a market in a distant land? And what interaction is more treasured by the traveler than a bit of back-and-forth with a foreign merchant? There’s nothing quite as satisfying as bagging a bargain, particularly if you’ve had to fight damn hard for it. In fact, saving yourself a few pennies while depriving an artisan of a square meal may be the quintessential travel experience.

You bring home souvenirs from far-off lands; you bring home recipes, phrases and diseases. Why not bring home the art of haggling? Just imagine the excitement and variety you’ll bring into the life of your Safeway customer service attendant when you introduce this concept to your everyday shopping.

Of course, there are rules for haggling. Next time you see a fetching little sweater, an in-home theatre system or a McDonald's Happy Meal you just have to have, ask yourself, ‘what is this really worth to me?’, then take the item to the checkout and suggest something about 50% lower than that. Smile, keep your tone light-hearted, and never get angry or offended. If the checkout attendant offers you a cup of tea, take it! Sometimes it’s worth pretending you don’t really want the thing: turning around and walking away can bring an instant drop in price. And always remember, it’s as much about the interaction as it is about the final price.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Get outside


When was the last time you went camping? It doesn’t have to be hardcore – there’s every chance your town has a campground (it might be disguised as an RV park, a caravan park, a state park, national park or reserve, or it might be your back yard) where you can pitch a tent and still have easy access to bathrooms and takeaway food.

If you don’t have a tent and no one among your family or friends has one they can lend you, try an outdoor gear or sporting goods store – many will rent you one for the weekend.

Even if you only do it for one night in your back yard, sleeping outdoors, hearing all the outdoor noises, breathing fresh air and waking up with sun can really reinvigorate you and make you feel like you’ve been on an adventure.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Your very own guide


If you had a copy of every guide book to San Francisco, you could wallpaper the entire Vatican with their pages*. So much has been written about Los Angeles, Sydney, London, New York City, Paris and Bangkok that a traveler visiting one of these cities can not only find out the best value-for-money restaurant in their neighborhood, they can also get guidance on what’s a good topic for conversation with their airport cab driver, the most appropriate cheer for the local football team and where they can get a hot stone massage and nightingale guano facial.

But what about visitors to your town, huh? What kind of help do they get? Even if you do live in a top tourist destination, you’ll likely find that the big travel publishers have only written up the most obvious hot-spots in the city and missed most of the places that you hold dear.

Write your own guide: that’ll show ‘em. It’s not that hard to do. Start out with a list of your favourite restaurants and places to shop. Describe each of them, give an idea what they cost, then call them to check their opening hours. If you’re feeling ambitious, make a map. If you’re still keen, add some must-see visitors’ spots (these might include a hill with a great view of the sunset, your favourite boarded-up factory or a particular bus route: this is about what you like, not about what’s ‘popular’), some details about the best ways to get around town and perhaps a bit of local history. Got some good photos? Stick those in too. And there you have it: a guide you can give to friends or family who come to visit, or even to friends or family who already live here.

*not an actual fact

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Snap happy


Think of somewhere in your town that tourists love to visit (if you live in really tiny town you might have to go on a daytrip to do this excursion). Go there, and take your camera with you. Your mission: to photograph the tourists.

How you do this depends on the kind of person you are. You could take surreptitious candid art shots of tourists taking their own photographs (how post-modern). Or you could politely ask them to pose for your camera in front of the attraction, and ask them who they are, where they’re from and what they came to see, then write a little bio to go with each photo.

If you prefer to be part of the finished product and you live near a really popular attraction, try standing near people as they're lining up a shot, then walk in front of the camera as they press the shutter. Do this twenty or thirty times, and you could end up in photo albums in Madrid, Sydney, Osaka and Toronto.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Come on a safari with me


Herds of wildebeest sweeping across a Serengeti plain, pods of dolphins frolicking in the wake of a cruise ship, a lone tiger prowling the ruins of Angkor Wat: nature is definitely boring, but it doesn’t have to be that way.

It’s time to inject some excitement into your own portion of the ecosphere. The local park, playing field or hobo-infested wasteland down the road may be low on lions and monkeys, but it’s bound to be chock-a-block with some kind of wildlife. Rabbits! Grasshoppers! Odd wormy things that burrow in your skin and can’t be removed, even with a scalpel! You know why David Attenborough hasn’t made a TV program about your local wildlife? It’s because he’s a big sissy. Slip on a safari suit, borrow your creepy uncle’s binoculars, and let’s see what we can find.

Most wildlife expeditions set out to find a particular animal. It may be overly ambitious to choose a white-cheeked gibbon or a pangolin, so go for something difficult, but realistic: a three-legged dog, perhaps, or a pygmy elephant. Once you find your quarry, photograph and document it in immense detail. Record its behaviour: what does it eat? How does it walk? Does it have territory? Does it socialise with other animals? Remember, this is for posterity! If you can’t find the stupid thing, use the comments section to complain at length about the weather, maps, native guides and any wildlife ‘experts’ whose advice you’ve followed.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Q8


Back in 1991, everyone wanted a piece of this previously unheard of little autocracy in the Arabian Peninsula. Now the rush is well and truly over, you can grab yourself a piece of Q8y action.

Get a street directory for your town and open it to a random page. Go to the coordinates Q8: what’s there? Probably not much. That’s your destination for today.

Treat this like an expedition to a far-off land. Remember to pack all the things you’ll need – bottled water, camera, comfortable shoes – and put your money in a safe place. When you get there, wherever ‘there’ is, take plenty of photos, pick up some souvenirs (some interesting leaves, a flier taped to a lamp pole, a catalogue blown into a gutter – whatever is available), and remember to send your family an email telling them what a great time you had.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

The drifter


Maybe you’re on the run from the law or your old man; maybe you just had to leave that deadbeat town behind and hit the road, get yourself a piece of whatever’s out there. Maybe your wife (or husband) doesn’t understand you, so you and your hot little piece on the side are making the most of every moment you’ve got.

Whatever seamy reason brought you here, you’re checking into a down-on-its-luck motel on the edge of town.

Dress the part, act the part; if you have to, catch a Greyhound into town to get yourself in the mood. Hole up with a bottle of bourbon and a Raymond Chandler novel, put some Tom Waits on your Discman, tell your girl they don’t make dames like her anymore, and wonder how your life ever came to this. If you have to ask the receptionist what time they put out the breakfast bagels, don’t forget to call her little lady, and always avert your face: you don’t want her to be able to describe you to the cops.

In the morning, check out, iron your shirt and head back to the office.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Outdoor Alphabet


Whether you’re gluing together a ransom note or working on the Great American Novel, you won’t get far without the alphabet. You may not know this, but close to 100% of words are made up of letters of the alphabet. And yet how often do you stop and think, golly, aren’t letters nice? How often do you even really look at letters you see on the street?

Today (and probably for the next few days) you’re going to. Look at letters, that is. That’s because you’ll be collecting your very own alphabet, one you can treasure for years to come. As a side effect, you might also come to appreciate some of your town’s fine signage.

Traditionally, the alphabet starts with A, so that’s where we’ll begin. Head out onto the street and find yourself a letter A. Found one? Right: don’t steal it (I know it’s tempting, now you’ve seen how lovely it is). Take a photograph. Then look for a letter B. After that (you guessed it!), you want a letter C. If you’re only up to D and you see a particularly choice letter L, then go right ahead and photograph it, we won’t tell anyone.

Now you’ve got your alphabet, what are you going to do with it? You could use your imagination, or you could do as you're told. If you’ve taken Polaroids, you’ve just made yourself an art installation: spend the next few months convincing someone to show it. If you’ve used digital, then you’ve made yourself an alphabet you can use on your web page, on your mum's next birthday card or as the basis of that ransom note we mentioned earlier.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Random Jukebox


In The Dice Man, novelist Luke Reinhart proposed making all of your decisions by rolling a dice. That’s clearly nuts. Using a jukebox to make all your decisions is a far more practical proposition.

Choose a random number (it will vary depending on what kind of jukebox you’re planning to use, but it will probably be four digits). Go to a bar, preferably one that has a jukebox. If you have to visit a few bars in order to find one, it’s only polite to have a drink in each. Once you have your jukebox, feed in your buck and key in your number. The song that comes up will be your guide for the following day.

Rolling Stones’ ‘Wild Horses’? You could take it literally and try to tame a horse. You could take a ride on a carousel. Or you could refuse to go away from somewhere: it’s your call. Joe Cocker doesn’t provide a lot of room for interpretation with his ‘Leave Your Hat On’, but it’s up to you which hat you choose. Tina Turner’s ‘Simply the Best’ may inspire you to give trophies to some of your more outstanding colleagues, friends and family members. Warrant’s ‘She’s my Cherry Pie’ is a clear invitation to take the day off and work on your pie recipe (if you need a ‘cool drink of water’ while working, go right ahead).

Repeat daily until you run out of songs, or until you select NWA’s ‘F*** the Police’.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Scavenger hunt

You know how it is: you’re in a new city, head buried in a map, trying to find the entrance to the subway, the public bathroom, the shop where they sell those shoes you saw on ‘Sex & the City’, and the Museum of Dental Hygiene. And while you’re busy looking, you keep stumbling over other, far more interesting things that you never even knew existed: a tiny store selling teacups from around the world, a fountain in the shape of a giraffe, someone drawing copies of Tintoretto on the pavement, a coffee shop specialising in cupcakes.

Until you get out there, you never know what you might find. But you need a reason to get out there. So (if it’s good enough for pirates, it’s good enough for you) send yourself on a treasure hunt.

Making your own list – particularly if you can impose it on others – is part of the fun, but to get you started here are some suggestions for things to find: a person who looks like their pet, an equation, something that belongs underwater, a fictitious animal, foreign money, some food that could hurt you. You can document them with photographs, drawings, descriptions or whatever takes your fancy. For variations, set yourself a list of tasks as well (sing on stage with a band you’re not a part of, pretend you’re in an Olympic event while queuing at the supermarket…). Have your friends join in, compare results and give prizes.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Recipe for disaster



Ah, remember the night we sat on the Piazza Navona, sipping limoncello as the stars came out over the Panthenon? Or that little café, perched above the Danube, where you spilled your Zwack Unicum on my linen pantsuit? Tequila and a donkey show in Tijuana; a refreshing Kingfisher when we reached Everest base camp: so many traveling memories are brought on (and wiped out by) the taste of the local brew.
Some countries have a magic touch when it comes to distilling liquor; others just ferment whatever they find buried up the back of the shed under some burlap sacks. But whether glorious or vile, the thrill of tasting exotic booze is one of the highlights of travel.

The good news is, a little thing called 'international trade' means you can now gamble your liver and your eyesight in the comfort of your very own home. Even your local liquor store is bound to harbour at least one dubious spirit, beer or wine of unidentifiable lineage. Stores like Trader Joe’s or Dan Murphy's have a plethora. So here’s what you do: invite your closest friends to your place for a cocktail party. Everyone has to bring a bottle. More importantly, everyone has to bring a bottle of something foreign that they’ve never tasted before (if they can’t even figure out what it is, so much the better). Then, mix and match at your discretion (and remember, you can’t have too much water. Seriously. Drink up).

Ah, remember the night we put Vilmos Nectar in the blender with that beef-scented, orange stuff from Tanzania? No, neither do I…

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

How about that local sports team?



Does your suburb have a sporting team? How about your local school? Find out when they’re playing their next game and what their name and colors are. Get some of your braver friends together, dress up in team colours and go to the game. If you’re feeling extra keen, or really want to enjoy the experience, make up some cheers to egg the team on. If you happen to have a soft toy representing the team’s mascot, why not bring that along too? The main thing is enthusiastic participation: you may be the only people there, watching some ten-year-olds play field hockey or some university students playing a casual game of flag football, but you should treat it like the Super Bowl or the AFL grand final.

If you can (and if their dads won’t beat you up), get the players’ autographs at the end of the game.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Art gallery stories


Does your town have an art museum? A small gallery? How about a shop that sells prints and won’t kick you out if you hang around with a notepad and pen?

Take a few friends to the gallery and sit yourselves down in front of one of the pictures. Give yourselves a time – say, 15 minutes – and write a story each about what is happening in the picture. When you’re done, read each others’ stories. How different were your interpretations? If you enjoy the process, choose another picture and do it again.

If you’re feeling extra keen, grab postcards of the artworks (or print them out from the Internet) and compile them, along with the stories, into a little book for each of your friends.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Road to nowhere



This expedition relies on your town having public transport. If you don’t even have a few buses, maybe you could spend the day lobbying your local MP for better public services instead.

If you do have transport, buy yourself a day pass and get on whatever bit of it goes closest to your home (if you have to drive somewhere more central and park the car, then go right ahead and do that). Stay on the bus, tram or whatever until it gets to the end of the line, or you see something you want to have a look at, or you get to a spot where you intersect with another route. Get off, have a look around, take some photos and pick up a few more suburban souvenirs, go into a strange cafe, shop or bar, then hop on the next bus that comes along and keep going. Continue until it’s dark, or you’re too bored to continue.

Try not to deliberately choose destinations. If you have a lot of buses, trains or trams to choose from, don’t read their destination sign: just choose the first that comes along. And remember to keep your ticket! You’ll want a souvenir.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Meet the locals


If you’re like most people, you go out to the same few places every weekend. You consider yourself a certain type of person, so you go to a certain type of club, bar or pub.

It’s time for a change.

Where’s the drinking hole you’re least likely to visit? (If it’s because it’s incredibly dangerous, cross it off your list and choose the second-least likely.) This Saturday night, you’re going there.

On your visit, keep in mind the most important tenet of travel: respect the local customs and learn from them.

How do the locals dress? Dress similarly, so as not to offend them (if they wear striped shirts and lots of hair product, don’t show up in your torn Dead Kennedys t-shirt; if they like retro handbags and liquid eyeliner, don’t wear your old tracksuit). Observe their customs and ways of behaving and try to fit in (drink complicated cocktails if that’s what they’re drinking; if they prefer Carlton Draught, so do you). Try to talk to the regulars – you never know what you might learn about horse racing, construction work, snagging a rich husband, beach volleyball or what that guy from Pavement is up to these days.

Be open-minded and tolerant. Just because they do things differently, doesn’t mean they’re wrong. And enjoy your cultural experience.