humanity
If nothing else, travel opens your eyes to the colorful quilt that is humankind.
Love and passion in France
There has been many historic sporting achievements throughout my lifetime some of which I’ve read about and some I have been privileged to have witnessed, incredible feats that changed not only individual lives but changed the psyche of nations. Such events as the Australian Socceroos heroic performance against Uruguay in 2006 which finally saw them reaching the Football World Cup finals in Germany for the first time since 1974 after 32 years of failure saw their disappointment and heartache forgotten as they participated in and on the Worlds greatest sporting stage. Skeletons have been firmly put back in their closets and the late, great Johnny Warren can now rest in peace. The eyes of the football World will be firmly fixed on these conquering heroes from ‘Down Under’ and this great land of ours will experience nothing like it since the Sydney Olympics. A nation will be united, cultural differences will be put to one side and the nations heart will beat as one as we watch every ball kicked and every tackle made. Emotions will overflow and tears will be shed, but I doubt the love and passion I experienced at the 1998 World Cup finals in France will ever be felt from supporting our champions from the other side of the globe, experiences from the most controversial World Cup finals held, memories that changed my life forever. Witnessing Brazils biggest defeat in World Cup football, the celebrations on the streets of Paris after Frances historic win. The disbelief in reports of Ronaldo the world’s greatest footballer swallowing his tongue through pre-match nerves and how the hatred of a nation turned onto a young English player for being sent off after a moment’s loss of control. Not since USA 94 and the senseless shooting of Colombia’s Escobar has so much controversy surrounded the finals of a World Cup. But there was another story in France that was not reported on, not a story of “German Nazi Hooligans” or rampaging “British Lager Louts”. But a story of true dedication, a story of love and sheer determination to be part of one of the greatest show on earth, a story I’m sure that was bigger than anything to come out of Sydney during the Olympics or is likely to come out of Beijing in 2008. What story could be bigger than breaking Olympic World records? The answer is quite simple, I survived four weeks in a two-man tent! “Big deal” I can hear you mutter. “The man’s gone mad” how can this be bigger than Australia’s own Cathy Freeman winning the 400 metres or Thorpy and company breaking world records at the drop of a hat? Let me start by clearing up a misunderstanding, the term two-man tent is a loose interpretation used by what I can only describe as the psychotic descendant of a tribe of pygmies who was impersonating a Camping and Adventure Salesman, who assured me that the picture on the box was not and I repeat not the actual size. It soon became obvious to me that I actually owned a pair of underpants, which had more room in them. Therefore when contemplating living in a canvas jockstrap firstly take the contents out of the packet and examine prior to reaching your desired destination. Now for someone who hasn’t actually bonded with Mother Nature for over thirty years, spending four weeks in a pair of Y-fronts can be very traumatic, and the memory has a habit of twisting the truth. My head was full of distorted scouting memories, sitting around campfires drinking cocoa and singing “ging gang gilly gilly” and sleeping all feet to the pole! I now know modern tents don’t have poles, probably because there is nothing to hold up and having reached France with my accommodation such as it was firmly in place minus the pole and my sleeping bag unfolded it was time to catch up on some well deserved rest. Sleeping in a padded condom directly on the ground is like trying to sleep on top of a bag of walnuts and it soon became clear to me that sponge matting is highly recommended. The camping grounds in France are of a high standard and offer all the conveniences a camper could want, showers, toilets and a shop to purchase all your food supplies such as beans, spaghetti and soup. It soon became obvious that you should never go camping without plates, cutlery and a can opener or at the very least your genuine Swiss Army multi functional knife; it can be very embarrassing having to ask your fellow campers if they can open your dinner for you. So I made some basic mistakes and sure the tent was small and I should have known that terra firma is bumpy and that cans are difficult to open without the recommended tools, but there is one more lesson to be learnt if you are thinking of ever going on a camping holiday, never and I repeat never go camping without a toilet roll, campsites offer excellent clean amenities but do not supply toilet paper in the cubicles. Sadly sitting on the throne with only a pair of shorts hanging around your ankles is not the ideal situation to find yourself in as it is highly unlikely you will have your trusty French phrase book available at the time “parlez vous anglaise, parlez vous anglais” World records will continue to be broken at the next Olympics in China and new heroes will emerge in Germany.Yes Ronaldo’s fears were overcome, Beckham was forgiven and my lower back actually did eventually respond to treatment. But there is one thing I’m sure of, we will all be back with a passion supporting some great event in the future either from the luxury of our lounge rooms or actually in person but remember please whichever sport you decide on I hope you choose your accommodation wisely.
By Roy Travers3 years ago in Wander
Stay
It was at a small diner in Iowa that I met her. I couldn't tell you her name, or much of what she looked like, but I remember our conversation. My now husband, Shane and I were on the first leg of our cross country road trip. We told her of our six months of working multiple jobs and renovating the old camper we found on Craigslist. It was a story we would tell a million more times before the trip was through, and yet it was not our story that keeps this moment in time stuck in my mind, it was hers.
By Shannon Obbagy3 years ago in Wander
Moving to Việt Nam during a pandemic: Chapter 2, 3 December 2021
I moved to Ho Chi Minh City - formerly known as Sai Gon, a name still widely used in the city itself - on Monday. A week locked in a hotel room should have been long enough to sort out all the admin requirements. I acquired a SIM card, downloaded apps, and completed online declarations. I saved QR codes and plane tickets to my phone. And I made sure I was in reception half an hour before my taxi was due, at 11am, just in case there was a problem paying for my daily 'coffee latte, hot', which turned out to cost £4 each, or my nightly 'Bia Sai Gon' which cost a much more reasonable £1 each.
By Christopher Howe3 years ago in Wander
Kindergarten Train
I’ll be on the train. It’ll be an underground train, like the subway, but at an airport. One door is both the exit and the entrance, with a few people trickling in and out. The train’s name will be Bart and my father will have warned me about him. The train will have pastel colours of gum, crafted into graffiti and messages in another language.
By Eve Ballard3 years ago in Wander
Pittsburgh2Paris
The abridged story of the journey of a girl from a small mill town to the big city. I am originally from North Braddock, Pennsylvania. An old mill town that has seen much better days. We lived with my grandmother, 2 uncles and an aunt in a 4 bedroom house on the hill. There were 7 of us there. My childhood was happy. Our family was a good family and there was always a lot of love and laughter. Still, it was a middle class life in Pittsburgh. We ate the basic meat and potatoes at dinner time. No one in our family drank alcohol except maybe a little around the holidays. The little bit of travel that we did do was by automobile and therefore quite limited. I always had my nose in some book, so of course I dreamed about all the exotic places that I would go, the different foods to try, and new people to meet that I was often reading about. I was sometimes accused of daydreaming. In hindsight I was a thinker. A planner. I am still both of those things. Children should not be shamed for being in their own world. It’s a blessing not a curse.
By Karolyn Denson Landrieux3 years ago in Wander
Thanksgiving in a War Zone
For the first time in twenty years, there will be no Thanksgiving celebration in Afghanistan. I have celebrated Thanksgiving serving overseas in South Korea, Germany, Iraq, and Afghanistan; however, the Thanksgiving celebration in Afghanistan in 2012 was the most memorable due to its impact on the international coalition.
By Chad Pillai3 years ago in Wander
The Wonders of Living in a Foreign Tongue
As I sat in the Parisian metro, I tuned out the world around me without having plugging in my headphones. Tired from my busy day at university, I am once again reminded of one of my favourite parts about living in Paris, about living in France. Unless I'm actively listening, my French isn't fluent enough to understand a random conversation. I get the opportunity to tune out.
By Leona Françoise Caanen3 years ago in Wander
Day out in Stratford-Upon-Avon
My Aunt and I wanted to go out for the day and we both decided we wanted to go to Stratford-Upon-Avon. Banbury has good transport links to many great places like London, Oxford,Birmingham, Warwick, Manchester and Newcastle. Most travelling to some of the major cities only need one bus or train journey and changing trains isn’t needed.
By Chloe Gilholy3 years ago in Wander
Netherlands
Amsterdam - Almere The airport is exactly what I expected, - classic colors, odd white toilets, and lots of lights. The customs officers didn’t even glance my way as I walked through, and immigration officer simply smiled at me and stamped my passport with a “enjoy your stay in Netherlands,” and her smile matched her accent - long and carefully pronounced.
By Kevin I. Barkman3 years ago in Wander