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Beth Whitman is a traveler, writer, teacher, and hey, she's my neighbor! She contacted me to see if I'd be interested in reviewing her book, Wanderlust and Lipstick: The Essential Guide for Women Traveling Solo. "Of course," I said, and how crazy is this, she just dropped it by my house.
Since we live about two miles apart, we were able to meet up at the French Bakery that's about halfway between her house and mine to talk about her book, traveling, the travelsphere, and more.
On the book, I'll tell you what I told Beth: I liked the it. And also this: It's not for me because traveling to me is like breathing, I can't remember a time when I didn't know how to do it. But I DO think that the information in there is useful for women who are thinking of venturing out but just don't know how. The book is full of common sense advice, ideas, and, hey, it's a travel book, so there are inspiring stories in there too. But enough about what I think. Here's Q&A with Beth about why we're not traveling, a tale of things gone scary, and where she wants to go next.
What do you think is stopping women from getting out the door to see the world?
I think it’s a subtle, yet pervasive, peer pressure from men and women that “you can’t travel by yourselfâ€. That phrase is generally followed by a list of why a person can’t do the thing she wants to do the most. It’s when the desire becomes far stronger than the fear, that we book those tickets!
Can we tell it like it is? What's the worst thing that's happened to you as a solo traveler?
First, I don’t believe that things happen “to†you. I believe that you make them happen or you put yourself in such a position that good or bad things happen around you and you have some control over the consequences. Sorry – that’s my rant about not making yourself a victim. Having said that, I take full responsibility for this next story.
I was traveling overland in Cambodia in ’92 from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap, where Angkor Wat is located. It was a time when it was not safe to be traveling overland in Cambodia due to a very unstable government. I was saving about $120 by not flying because the entrance fee to the great temples was collected at the airport and hitching a ride got me out of lining the pockets of the corrupt government officials. On the second day of a two-day trip, the truck that I was traveling in got stopped by a group of gun-toting military men. They saw my blond hair and came to the back of the open-aired pickup, where I was sitting on a bench. They were carrying AK-47’s, rifles and rocket launchers. One man started rubbing my arm and speaking to me in Khmer. I kept repeating, “No understandâ€, and he laughed at me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. The driver of my truck came around and tried to give him riels, the local currency, but he just waved him off. The driver got back in the cab and started to pull away. Just then, Mr. Military pulled out a hand grenade. Even though I was sitting, I felt like my legs fell out from underneath me. He never pulled the pin and we quickly sped away. Lesson learned? My life is worth more than $120. But, it’s been a great travel story!
And yes, of course, I want know the opposite. What's the best?
This is the hardest question to answer because so many great things happen when I travel. Besides having seen some of the most beautiful areas on the planet, the “best†memories are those that involve people. And it’s usually when I’ve found myself in a bind and someone comes along to help out. For example, I was riding my motorcycle from Seattle to Panama and had a flat in New Mexico. Dan the Boat Mechanic was called in by some locals. He had his brother pick up a tire tube for me in Albuquerque (90 miles away), loaned me his car for the night and fixed my flat for an embarrassingly small amount of money. He was just being kind. Another time, I was traveling in Bali and met up with a fellow traveler named Joe. He obviously had far more money than I did
