Tag Archives: streets

Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

by jose

If Sydney is undoubtedly the most iconic city of Australia (who could not recognize its Opera House?), Melbourne is, to me, its most culturally vibrant metropolis.

In between skyscrapers from the CBD (Central Business District), it is thus not rare to find tiny alleyways bustling with activity around cafés and pubs. The laneway culture and underground life are definite highlights of the place, with incredibly beautiful and striking street art, a talented music scene, year-round festivals, or relaxing loungy bars and pumped-up nightclubs. For those who prefer the artsy venues, Melbourne’s museums are world-class in classical as well as contemporary art, and the surprising but definitely inspired modern architecture of the buildings might convert even the most ardent defender of the old monuments.

The alternative or bohemian lifestyle has, on its side, conquered several districts of the city – they are probably the most interesting urban places I have had to visit in the whole continent. It is not difficult to find sheesha bars in the same street as op shops, organic grocery stores or trendy clothes boutiques. If you get a bit tired while walking there, do not forget to stop at one of the friendly pubs to try the delicious coffee or mocha before going on your visit.

But before discovering all these jewels from Melbourne, I have to admit my first impression from the place was quite bad. One reason for this: the Australian backpacker business.

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Canberra, Australian Capital Territory, Australia

by jose

“So how did you find Canberra?”
“Err…”
“Dead, uninteresting, nothing happens?”
“I was gonna say ‘soulless’, but that’s pretty much it”
(Conversation with Nadia, traveler from Canberra, on the W trail in Torres del Paine)

For those who do not know, Canberra has been entirely built out of the blue to serve as a capital city. And the first impression I had when I discovered the desert, still city, with its topography in concentric circles (alright, it is more interesting than the usual square grid, but still not good) is this one: this is a dream from Le Corbusier.

And it is not a compliment.

But it does not mean Canberra is to be avoided at all costs. The museums over there (perhaps built in order to give a boost to the stagnant culture of the city) are very good – I come to wonder now if the only thing I enjoy while traveling in cities is the art and culture I find there. I am undoubtedly getting tired of partying – really, I did not go on the other side of the world to burn my money on alcohol (again) and have to withstand overplayed commercial ‘music’ (and again). I can do that at home.

“But you’ve got awesome museums there!”
“Ahhh, I hate museums.”
“Alright, change city”

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Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

by jose

I love CouchSurfing. I have probably already said it, but I love CouchSurfing. For everything it brought to my trip – locals’ recommendations, discovering cultures from the inside, meeting great people, sharing joys and, most importantly, making amazing friends – I am eternally grateful, and in debt to all the CouchSurfers around the world. They will be most welcome at my place, when – or rather every time – I will be settled down somewhere.

Nevertheless, despite all the qualities of the CouchSurfing project, it does have one major drawback. It needs the Internet.

I am not talking about the problem of accessing the Internet, though. Travelers can find, nowadays, an access to the Internet – may it be a Wi-Fi hot-spot or a cybercafe – relatively easily (thank you McDonald’s and Burger King, aka Hungry Jack’s for our Australian friends); as for the hosts, it is obvious that CouchSurfing cannot expand to the regions of the world that are not reached by this powerful medium. This is something that will improve with time; and after all, on the other hand, it is sometimes a relief to find that you can be impossible to reach in some parts of this world. Yes. It is.

I am, actually, talking about the fact that CouchSurfing needs messages between the host and the surfer if they are to organize the latter’s stay. Such a conversation, obviously necessary, takes at least a week, if not several. Which means the traveler needs to know a week in advance where he is going. CouchSurfing is an amazing project, but it restrains the sheer freedom of travelers, especially those, like me, who are always on the move, always on the road, and only following the wind.

This is what I realized, the night before I reached Sydney, after a phone call to Kevin, a CouchSurfer that I thought would be able to host me when I would arrive there. In the silence of Newcastle’s train station, the fact that CouchSurfing was, after all, also a social act, implying social rules and roles, became all but too obvious to me.

After all, one of the reasons why I am traveling is to escape the constant demands of the society.

Maybe such a thing is impossible.

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Indian food

by jose

The best food is always the street food.
(Anthony Velasquez, as we were eating delicious street felafels in downtown Amman)

I took this truth into consideration and decided to give a try to the Indian street food – but only after a long, too long period of stomach preparation and conditioning. Too long because the street food is, always is, the best food you can find.

The period of adaptation to the local standards of hygiene was important, however; not absolutely necessary, but I had no intention of wasting time because of sickness. I hence in a first time always ate in restaurants, cheap compared to Western standards, but still expensive compared to the street food. Which explains why the majority of locals eat at the street stalls.

Another good reason to try it out: melting with locals. You know, speaking with your hands and eating stuff you do not even have the slightest idea of what it is.

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Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India

by jose

Everyone told me ‘You have to go to the Taj Mahal – it is the most beautiful building on Earth… It is perfection. You won’t believe it. You have to go.’ But I was like, you know, okay, I’ll give it a look while I’m in India.

And then I saw it… Like you saw it! And I couldn’t believe how beautiful it is. I still cannot believe it. It is perfection.
(Saskia, traveler)

I had seen pictures of the Taj Mahal too. I knew what it looked like. I knew it was a major monument of India. But nothing, no, nothing in this world could have prepared me to what I felt in front of it. No description, no picture, no poem or prose, no story can replace the direct, brutal and intense experience of seeing the Taj Mahal with your own eyes.

That was the third time my mind was blown away in India. When I saw the Taj Mahal. Every time I saw it, actually. Every time I found a new spot, a new point of view, a new angle, a new detail, outside, from a field, on the other side of the Yamuna river, from a rooftop restaurant, from the Agra Fort, or, even more, inside the Taj grounds, a few dozens of meters away or close enough to touch its milky-white marble walls.

And the monument in the first picture is not the Taj Mahal, no – actually it is just here to decorate and give balance to the Taj Mahal complex, even though it would be a major monument if it were standing alone in another city – but do not worry, you will have plenty of it in the following, to saturation. Even though no photograph will ever give you the same, powerful and timeless feeling that grasps anyone who sees it for real. No one will take your breath away every single time you look at it, as it does in reality. No one will make you fall on your knees, overwhelmed by the intensity of the emotions pulsing from the tomb.

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Udaipur, Rajasthan, India

by jose

General laugh in the bus. I turn to Sajjad (Qatar) and stare at him inquiringly. He calms down, catches his breath and finally translates.

She just said: ‘You’re young, why are you wearing shoes?’

Er well… I come from a country where kids wear shoes. Parents buy small shoes to their children – and they need new ones after every few months, obviously – so that their feet are always protected from the clean floor of the developed countries, and that they never are wounded, never feel the ground, never learn to get stronger. So that when they become adults, they still are unable to walk without that piece of equipment, even only on a flat ground, because they still have babies’ feet and soft skins.

Yeah, well, I have no idea why either, Isu.

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