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Algarve Portugal, The South's Delight
Algarve or as it was baptized by the Arabs as Al Gharb meaning 'to the west', is the most southern province of the eleven that Portugal has been divided into. Its variety in terrain which starts at the small town of Odeceixe on the west coast,...
Siberia Here I Come! - Adventure Travel Part 1
“You must really hate this job.” That’s what my boss said when I told him I was moving from San Diego to Siberia for a year. In reality, I was bored and looking for something that would be completely and utterly new. Whether it was sunstroke or a...
St. Tropez - A "Must-See" Part Of The French Riviera
A visit to the French Riviera would not be complete without a stop in St. Tropez. Renowned for its miles of glistening white beaches, exotic food and as a playground for the rich and famous - it is THE place to see and be seen.
A true jewel of the...
Those Ellusive Crab and Prawn Traps
If you are a boater, in particular a sea or ocean-going boater, you have probably tried your hand at catching prawns and/or crabs with their respective pots. And if you have tried this, then you know how many traps or pots you have lost over the...
Tofino, BC Canada Beach Paradise on Canada's "Big Island"
British Columbia, on the west coast of Canada is quickly becoming one of the fastest growing tourism hotspots in North America. The reason, like so many other tourism Meccas, is landscape. In BC you will find high desert, mountains, long...
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Siberia Here I Come! - Adventure Travel Part 1
“You must really hate this job.” That’s what my boss said when I told him I was moving from San Diego to Siberia for a year. In reality, I was bored and looking for something that would be completely and utterly new. Whether it was sunstroke or a developing tolerance to margaritas, San Diego just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Heck, I hadn’t even gone to the beach in nine months and it was only a few blocks away. Time to rediscover a zest for life.
As you are doing now, I trolled the Internet looking for that rare opportunity that would renew my vigor and let me brag to my domesticated friends. Pick coffee in the South Pacific? No, I already drink too much of it. Sail around the world on a container ship? No, I wasn’t ready for involuntary self-reflection. Before I knew it, I had agreed to move to a city in Siberia known as Chita. Yes, I was going to be a professor at Chita State Technical University through a program put together by Siberian Intercultural Bridges. Donate - they need the money: http://www.siberian-bridges.org.
So, what does one take for a one-year stay in Siberia? Why, I’ll just go buy a guidebook on Siberia and read the “what to take” section. My search of the local mega bookstore was disappointing. Shockingly, there were no guidebooks for Siberia. I was tempted to write a nasty letter to Lonely Planet and others until the bookstore clerk said, “You’re going WHERE?” When she started giving me the “you must be a criminal on the run” look, it was time to go.
Fortunately, I was able to find experienced travelers that could provide me with
the details and items that were absolutely necessary. My girlfriend gave me the all-important electric blanket, a power converter and intimate details about what would happen to me if I should dare share it with another women. Grandpa gave me a World War II down coat that was about three sizes to big and made me look like a walking gopher. Family, friends and random strangers contributed further items and advice that would be critical to my survival.
Apparently rating my chances of survival at 50-50, friends and family put together a going away/never see him again party the day before I left. Of course, everyone brought Vodka as a humorous going away gift. The tide quickly turned, however, as all were asked/forced to try a “taste of Russia.” Many of the events of that night will remain forever sealed in antiquity, but it should suffice to say that the wife of one friend went into labor which made it a very fun night and subsequent day for him at the hospital. Few got off so easily.
Gigantic backpack, electric blanket, hangover and I headed to the airport the next morning. But that’s a story for part 2 of this nomad adventure travel series…
About the author:
Rick Chapo is with http://www.nomadjournals.com- makers of small, compact travel journals, hiking journals, rock climbing journals, fly fishing journals, bird watching journals and more. Record in detail special moments of your adventures so they don’t fade away with time.
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