Brave New Worlds await traditional writers, bloggers alike

Getting ready for the editors' panel.

Even those who don't spend much time online or persuing the various forms of traditional or social media are probably aware of the revolution that's been taking place in the publishing industry for the last decade or two.

First came the internet, and with it, websites, e-zines or online zines and web-logs, a.k.a. "blogs."

Then came the era of social media: YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest - the list is a l-o-n-g one.

It's an era we're still in, barely into, really - and it's still evolving. However, although social media has certainly grabbed a large portion of the media landscape, traditional media is not dead yet, despite rumours to the contrary.

In fact, to paraphrase the immortal words of Mark Twain, "Rumours of its demise are greatly exaggerated."

That became very apparent at the 2015 B.C. Assocation of Travel Writers symposium that took place in Vancouver's Century Plaza Hotel, on April 18, 2015.

The theme of the event was "Ecotourism: Tread Softly, Write with Impact."

It could just have easily been "Traditional Meets New Age Travel Media."

That's because the symposium organizers did a very good job of blending elements of the old with elements of the new in putting together the day's program.

Photographer David Smith provided great ideas
to help us improve our travel photography.

Nowhere was this more evident than on the editorial panel. The panel featured two editors from the more traditional elements of published travel writing - Allen Cox from Northwest Travel and Life and Kirsten Rodenhizer from Westworld Alberta magazines - and a third from the online travel website, Matador in the person of Jett Britnell.

The keynote speaker, Vancouver author Jack Christie, provided a very informative and entertaining address.

He also provided living proof that you can still write books about travel - and write them very successfully.

So as you can see, there are still many ways to be published in hard-copy, although online publishing does offer a nice alternative.

Now, before you start to think this is just an old-school guy, extolling the virtues of an older type of travel publishing...

The organizers also incorporated a Twitter contest into the day's events, so people were tweeting away furiously on smartphones and laptops about what they were hearing from the presenters. At the end of the day, the top three tweeters were presented with prizes.

(I'm not modest, so I have no trouble telling you I placed second, and won a great prize from Cycle City Tours - their Grand Tour - which I look forward to enjoying later this summer).

As always at these events, there was a 

simple but sumptuous luncheon prepared.

The organization is also holding a contest for bloggers who attended the event, one that involves writing a post about the event.

Of much greater note, however, is the fact that the BCATW recently made a huge move in terms of its membership criteria.

The event also offered a chance to connect
with friends met through social media...

It became the second Canadian-based travel media organization to open up membership to bloggers in the past year (the Travel Media Association of Canada, a national organization, also recently opened that up for membership).

While some bloggers may feel this is long overdue by such associations, and others may feel, "Meh? What's the big deal?" in the big picture, it is huge, and should not be dismissed lightly.

We really are at a crossroads in terms of media and how it is published and how it is used. Magazines that would never have thought of publishing online versions of articles already published in hard copy are now routine doing that. They are also finding new ways to include online articles into the mix that would perhaps not have made it into the hard-copy magazines.

For writers, while this is great news for those publications that do this, it can still be a bit of a Catch-22. Not many travel magazines offer this alternative of hard-copy vs. web. And while this atmosphere certainly provides more opportunities to be published, most of the straight online sites do not pay anywhere near as well as most of even the lower-paying hard-copy publications.

...as well as a chance to make new connections.

In terms of monetization, the blogging model for travel writers is completely different from that of the traditional freelance travel writing model. While writers don't have to wait for an editor to purchase a story, it can take a long time and require much patience - and often, more than a little luck - to earn much from a blog, whether you're writing about paddling in Ecuador, diving in Maui, parrot-watching in the Caribbean or just camping in B.C.

So the challenges are there, as they always have been for those of us who earn a living as self-employed writers, photographers, and more recently, videographers.

It really is a Brave New World of travel publishing. Foward-thinking organizations - like the BCATW - that want to grow and thrive realize this, and we saw this in action, Saturday.

Really, the only action for all of us travel writers who value what we do, is to recognize the obstacles, embrace the challenge, and plow on, furiously typing, snapping and posting to bring the world out there back to our readers.

Road food is one thing; but how do you eat if the "road" is a river?

Nothing beats cooking - and eating - in the outdoors.

The name of my blog pretty much gives away the fact I'm passionate about parrots and about paddling (if not, I've really goofed!).

But if not truly passionate, I'm certainly very close to being passionate about food, as well.

So...if you take a foodie who's also a canoehead, it can sometimes be a bit of a challenge to create an acceptable menu when I'm on a multi-day paddling trip.

I will say I've had some marvellous eating experiences while travelling by canoe and kayak. There've been a few disappointments, too.

While every trip has its highlights, and I've never really had a bad paddling trip, how and what you eat can often influence your impressions and memories of the trip.

Obviously, while you're on a canoe or kayak trip, you are "on the road". However, unlike driving on a highway, there's no place to pull over and order a burger and fries (although those always seem to be my first go-to meal after finishing any paddling trip.)

That means you have to plan and cook it yourself, if you're on a self-guided trip; if you're booked with an outfitter, they look after the meal planning and most of the prep for you.

I've done plenty of both; and in both instances, I've experienced the good, the bad, and the ugly (even when there's no spaghetti involved.)

I have created some incredible meals myself, as well as been a party to some bad ones (usually in the form of freeze-dried foods.)

Although it may not qualify as gourmet fare, I remember the very first dish I ate, cooked over a campfire in the outdoors.

A nice heaping plate of Richildaca Stew.

I was eight years old, and I was a camper at Richildaca Day Camp, near Kettleby, Ontario, in the rural area just west of the Newmarket-Aurora area in southern Ontario, about 40 km north of Toronto. It was "cookout day." I was excited when I saw them open the ground beef. Then I saw cans of mushroom and vegetable soup. I HATED mushrooms and anything to do with them! And I wasn't keen about veggie soup, either, back then. But, it was eat that or starve. So I ate. And I ate it. And I ate it.

Yeah, I loved it.

So much that I've always tried to feature it on all my camping menus. Of course, it has changed over the years, as I've tweaked it a bit. And it wasn't called "Richildaca Stew" back then. But it's still easy, hearty, and every bite still brings back memories.

If you want to see a real-life demonstration on how to make Richildaca Stew, you can watch the entire process on one of my YouTube videos.

Then there are the bacon and eggs and hashbrowns that always taste so good cooked outdoors over a camp stove or an open fire. They always taste better than the ones cooked at home.

Breakfast is a sizzlin'...

Of course, not all my paddling recipes turn out well. Although I once impressed a young lady with my "canned goods shiskabob" (canned potatoes and spam, cooked on a stick over a fire - another Richildaca innovation), there have been some unpleasant memories involved with camp food. The most unpleasant involved two people sleeping in a small dome tent after gorging on freeze-dried bean-tortilla dinner.

It was w-a-y worse than normal beans. Even the porcupines that hung around that campsite in numbers just up and disappeared.

Some go-to books for planning paddling meals.

Scratch that one off the list.

If you want to plan your own trips and meals, there are several good books to help you. Two of my favourites are The Wanapitei Canoe Trippers Cookbook and The Paddling Chef. 

Outfitters have prepared some amazing meals on trips over the years. My first sea kayaking excursion in Belize, our guides prepared an amazing and simple rum punch, a delicious conch stew, and wonderful fresh-caught fish. Mind you, I wasn't crazy about the vegetarian chilli and vegetarian spaghetti sauce foisted upon us later in that EcoSummer trip by an overzealous "naturist" guide. But you take the good with the bad.

The best chow I've had on a paddling trip?

Two come to mind immediately: an Adventure-Life five-day kayak trip I took in the jungles of Ecuador and some great grub enjoyed with Okefenokee Adventures on a three-day canoe trip in the Georgia swamp.

In the Amazon, we had three-course meals, with everything prepared by the guides. Each meal featured soup, salad, entree, dessert and wine. All eaten at a table, sitting on chairs underneath a forest canopy filled with parrots, toucans, and the occasional harpy eagle.

In the Okefenokee, I remember eating some incredible jambalaya and equally good spaghetti with meat sauce.

Of course, everyone who knows me, knows how I love my coffee, in or out of camp. And without a good mug of brew (or two), you really cannot start the day properly - especially on a paddling trip.

Paddler and singer-songwriter Jerry Vandiver knows this better than anyone - which is why he wrote a great song about camp coffee. I'll leave it here, with you. Maybe it'll inspire you to plan your next paddling trip - or even a trip menu. Or if nothing else, to go get another cup of coffee to sip while you enjoy it.



Want to see more of Jerry's videos? Check out his YouTube page.

Things NOT experienced while travelling - and not sure I want to...

The only dolphin swim I'd consider:
snorkeling around  wild ones in the ocean.

It seems everybody has a "bucket list" of travel destinations or experiences these days.

Well, this is my "reverse" bucket list. It's a list of all the things I have NOT done while travelling - and I'm actually quite happy to keep it that way.

Whether for reasons of hygiene, fear, safety, ethics, or concern for the environment, these are experiences I'd not include on a bucket list of things to do, nor would I probably ever add them.

1. Fish foot massage in Thailand. I had the opportunity to experience this, had I really wanted to, when I visited Thailand. But the thought of sticking my feet into waters where countless others had done so, in order to have fish nibble at my feet, chewing any dead skin off, really does not appeal to me. I'll stick to reflexology, Thai, or aromatherapy massages, thank you.

2. Bungee jumping. Had the chance to do this on the bridge that spans the Zambezi River gorge between Zambia and Zimbabwe. I decided to take my chances whitewater rafting (I did almost drown, but that's another story). I hate heights. Terrified of them. Plus, with my history of lower back injuries and issues, bungee jumping anywhere would just not be safe.

3. Dolphin swims. I should clarify this. I have done snorkeling with dolphins - wild spinner dolphins in the Pacific Ocean, off the coast of the Big Island of Hawaii. No contact is allowed, and respect is the watchword. This experience is similar to watching gorillas in central Africa. What I will not do is the dolphin swims sponsored by hotels in places like Mexico, Hawaii, etc. These dolphins are captive dolphins, kept safe from human infectious diseases through the use of anti-biotics. You get in a pool and can touch them, play with them, etc. Not for me, thanks.

4. Climbing. Anything. Again, I don't like heights. I don't intend to take up rock-climbing anytime soon. Or ice-climbing. I won't even consider a trip up Mount Kilimanjaro, which does not involve any technical climbing skills. However, it does require a fitness level that is probably beyond my reach at this point in my life. Besides, there are other experiences I'd rather in Africa that involve paddling as opposed to "ped-ling."

5. Zip Lining. See Numbers 2 and 4, above. Don't like heights. Back issues. Safety concerns. 'Nuff said. I have done the TreeTrek in Whistler offered by ZipTrek Ecotours. That was enough of a stretch for me, given my acrophobia.

Treetrek, yes; ziptrek, no thanks.

6. Whitewater kayaking. Whoa - I bet that brought you up, fast. You're probably thinking, "What the hey...?" After all, this blog post is partially about paddling, right?  But while I've done plenty of whitewater rafting (as a guide once said, "all thrill, no skill"), plenty of kayak touring, and lots of canoeing, I have ZERO experience with whitewater kayaking. Complicating the issue is the fact I've had shoulder issues the past several years; although I can paddle flatwater, some moving water and on the ocean, the strong, quick moves necessary to survive Class IV whitewater rapids in a kayak are beyond me. Still love watching it, though.

7. Parasailing. If you'd read the list above, you probably have no trouble figuring this one out.

8. Sky diving. Do I really need to explain?

9. Eating stuff that's TOO weird. I have eaten some weird stuff. But even I draw the line at what I consider to be really gross stuff like balut, sheep's brains, raw seal blubber - and any kind of botanicals (see, ayahuasca) that are going to mess with my brain's synapses. Anything weirder than the stuff described in a previous blog post, I'll leave for Andrew Zimmern.

10. Downhill skiing. Bad knees. Bad back. No experience at all in this activity. Probably not something I want to try to add to my list of travel experiences at this point in my life. I'll go cross-country skiing or hang back at the apres-ski in the hot tub, thank you.

Riding down Thailand's Chao Phraya River on a rice barge: 

one of the items scratched off my travel bucket list.

Now, even though I won't be doing anything list above, I'm still left with lots of things on my to-do bucket list.

So - what's on your anti-bucket list?

Missed holidays: just part of doing business

Whenever I tell people what I do for a living, they often express their envy.

It's not ALL fun and games. Especially when deadlines loom.

But that's because they're not really aware of what being a travel writer can involve.

The image at the right gives you an idea of just a few of the misconceptions people have about travel writing.

I won't go into a song-and-dance about the woes of what I do, because I do choose to do it, after all. If I didn't like it, I'd do something else.

However, one aspect many people may overlook is the missed holidays due to travel.

I realize many other jobs crucial to our well-being, involve working holidays. Doctors, nurses, EMT's, firefighters, cops, et al work on holidays. We all owe them our gratitude.

For a travel writer though, it's a bit of a different situation. You're often in a foreign country, days away from your loved ones. And while it's certainly not like being in the armed forces, it can still be a wistful time. Even soldiers, sailors, and pilots have their comrades-in-arms; unless they're in a group press trip, travel writers are more often then not, going solo.

With Good Friday right around the corner, I started to ponder the times I've missed Easter due to being away.

One year, I had to leave the day after Good Friday to fly south, by myself to do a two-week trip in the southern U.S.

Lucky for me, alligators don't take holidays.

Another year, I just got back from a two-week trip padding in the Florida everglades and Fishing in the Keys on Good Friday. At least that one was a shared trip.

Yet another time, I was just returning - alone - from Thailand the day after Good Friday. I guess if you combine this one and the other one to the southern U.S., it counts as one weekend.

And while it's not really a holiday, I have missed several Valentine's Days due to travel... one I was in Calgary for a trip; another time, I was on a train going to Toronto. Yet another time, I was sick as a result of travel, and couldn't celebrate it.

One of the more memorable absences - from a humorous standpoint - occurred because while I was on a trip, I had an opportunity to visit with a friend who used to be a serious girlfriend years ago. We're now friends, of course. (I like to kid about that one, saying, "Well, I spent my Valentine's Day having breakfast with an ex!" Luckily, the Divine Ms. K has a sense of humour about these things!)

I missed both our birthdays at times, once in Wales, another time in Borneo.

Luckily, I've never been away during Christmas or New Year's. I don't think I'd like that much. But if an opportunity comes up that's impossible to turn down, I'll be there.

So what's the point of all this?

A trip to Alberta's southern Rockies took me away
from home one Valentine's Day.

Well, in pondering this, I realize how lucky I am to be in a relationship in which my partner understands and accepts all this (even if my parrots don't!)

Although she has accompanied me on some of my trips to places like Belize, Africa, Ecuador, the Everglades, there are far more trips I take where she stays home and looks after our birds and patiently waits for my return.

So this Easter is more like a spring Thanksgiving for me.

Because while I wouldn't change what I do, when I think back to all the amazing travel experiences I've enjoyed, I'm grateful for that - and for having a partner who supports the kind of vagabond life I sometimes lead.

Travel video is NOT new - it boasts a long & storied history

One of the earliest "travel video" producers.

In past blog posts, I've written about some of the classic books of travel literature. There are posts all over the Internet featuring lists of the best of this genre, which is really all subjective, of course.

Now hold on, Baba Louie - before you click to another page, this is NOT a list of my favourite travel books. In fact, I won't be going on about travel writing at all in this post - at least not about travel writing in its written form.

I go to a great many professional development symposiums, conferences, workshops, etc. during the course of a year. There's no doubt that the landscape of travel writing has changed dramatically in the last few decades, first with the entrance of the world wide web into the area traditionally dominated by print media, with a bit of television and radio programming thrown into the mix. Then came social media. So it's crucial travel media people stay on top of the game.

Now, social media is seen to be a very new aspect of travel media coverage. But there is one aspect of it that perhaps is not really new - it's just, well, different.

I'm talking about video.

At most of the pro-d sessions I've been to in the last few years, one of the common themes that seems to stand out, almost like a mantra, is "Video is king."

We truly are a video-oriented society.

Choose your weapon: video cam or DSLR?

That's one of the reasons I've started putting my energy into producing some travel videos for my own YouTube channel as well as for the site TripFilms (some of which have been picked up by USA Today and MSN for their sites).

However, although it seems to be the "latest-and-greatest" way to share travel adventures and experiences. video presentation of travel stories is not new - it's just much more accessible to the average person than it was when travel films first began, almost as early as movies themselves.

You don't need a huge camera crew, expensive equipment, and almost unlimited funds to make travel videos these days. There are inexpensive video cams, DSLR cameras with video capabilities, relatively inexpensive software editing programs with which to produce films/videos, and a greater ability to travel the world than ever before.

It's certainly come a long way since the days of Nanook of the North, a 1922 documentary made by Robert J. Flaherty, a professional prospector and amateur film-maker. (No, it was NOT Frank Zappa who first used Nanook.) Flaherty made this film during two years of living in an Inuit village on the shores of Hudson Bay in northern Quebec. He didn't have a lot of other films to pattern after, so he was a pioneer - and some of the techniques he developed are still in use today. It may have also been the very first video featuring someone paddling a kayak. You can watch the movie in its entirety on YouTube.

That was made and distributed while films were still in the silent era. (For a real treat, I've embedded the full-length version of this film at the bottom of this post. Enjoy!)

Once the "talkies" came into vogue, it didn't take long for filmmakers to introduce that into what was becoming a popular topic for the "shorts" shown in theatres between the cartoon and the feature attraction. One of the first to jump on the bandwagon was James Fitzpatrick,who produced a series of TravelTalks for MGM.  You can still see some of them online, or as fillers on TCM (that's where I stumbled across them).

Just like reading the old travel literature in books and magazines from previous decades, it is enjoyable as well as instructive to watch some of these old films, and get a sense of where we've come from.

Some of them were interesting, and - judging by today's standards - not all that great. But it was an evolving art, just as the videos produced today are also an evolving art.

So as you're watching - or perhaps, producing - another modern-day travel video, take time to think back to the past and realize that what was old is new again.


Nanook goes kayaking: the first-ever paddling video?

Sometimes, bad situations can be good ones in disguise

Like anything else in life, paddling can impart lessons.

Kayaking in sight of the Alaskan coast.

One of the toughest lessons many of us have to learn - certainly, I've found it to be - is that what may seem like a bad situation may actually turn out to be quite good.

Or at least do some good, where you wouldn't expect it to.

I've experienced many significant  examples of this in my life. But none probably more so than when I got hypothermia in Alaska.

It quite possibly saved my life; at the very least, it resulted in a series of actions and incidents that might not otherwise have played out the way they did.

It was August, 2004. I was in Wrangell, Alaska, preparing to start a week-long kayak tour down the coast with a brand new company. The tour consisted of a guide and several other travel writers invited to go on this first-run trip to sort of test it out for the company, and help promote it by writing about it for various publications.

The day before the tour began, we went down to a quiet bay in front of the town to practise in-water re-entry to a kayak so we would be prepared in the event we capsized one in the water during our trip.

Now this can be a tricky manoeuvre if you have no previous experience attempting it. Although I had exited and entered a kayak while in the ocean before, that did not involve tipping it, first. It was also in the warm waters of the Caribbean as opposed to the fairly frigid waters in the Gulf of Alaska, a section of the North Pacific Ocean off the coast of Alaska.

Because we weren't going anywhere and we thought it would be a routine kind of operation, we didn't wear wet suits as we would be on the trip.

Bad move.

I was having a devil of a time trying to climb back into the kayak after righting it following my "capsize."

The guide came over to steady it and encourage me. That's when he realized things were starting to go south.

I think I heard him say, "Grab my boat and hang on."

I ended up back on shore, shivering uncontrollably. I couldn't get warm, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Back at the B'n'B we were staying at, I was having a hard time talking, moving, focusing, and I was still cold while eating lunch.

I remember the guide saying, "When I saw your eyes roll back into your head, I knew you were in trouble, I knew we had to get you out of the water."

Someone said my lips looked blue.

So off they trundled me to the local hospital.

Turns out, I was hypothermic. They ran a series of tests, said I'd be okay, but the doctor said there was no way he could let me go on a five-day kayak tour given my condition.

So my trip ended before it began.

Immature bald eagle on the Pacific coast.

However, the doctor said something else.

He said there were some odd readings with respect to my heart, something he could not definitely determine the nature of, with the equipment available at the small town facility.

He advised strongly to go to my family doctor back in Vancouver and get a better diagnosis done.

I did that, and was a bit floored by the result.

After performing all the proper scans at  St. Paul's Hospital in Vancouver, my doctor told me I had a bicuspid aortic valve in my heart. It was a genetic condition I'd been born with, and eventually I would need surgery to correct it, probably within 10 years. In the meantime, I had to be sure to take antibiotics for any dental procedure to prevent the very-dangerous potential infection from getting onto the valve.

Armed with that knowledge, when I started experiencing odd symptoms continually in 2012, they performed an electro-cardiogram and based on the results, told me I needed to have open-heart surgery as quickly as possible.

That happened almost eight years to the day I got the news about my heart condition.

By November, I'd had surgery. By the following June, I was well enough to have re-scheduled shoulder surgery to repair a torn labrum. With some good rehab, I was back paddling by mid-August.

What brought this to mind recently was a video I saw on the Paddling.net Facebook feed, dealing with the topic of hypothermia and paddling. You can see the video below.

So - I am NOT for a second suggesting hypothermia is a good thing, it's a serious issue and one all wilderness travellers should be prepared to recognize and deal with. Do NOT take this as a suggestion to go out and get hypothermic to see what health issues you might have. (I feel I have to state this here, on the off-chance someone who's a Darwin Award candidate reads this and misinterprets the message.)

I began this post with the thought that bad things can produce good results, that from something bad, there can always spring some good. However, while we're experiencing the bad, it can often be a real challenge to keep that in mind; let's face it, it's tough to see the sunshine if you're stuck at the bottom of a deep mud-bog, trying to claw your way out.

But eventually you will, and you'll once again see the sunshine, you'll find the good from out of the bad.

So if you start to feel a sense of despair, or depression, or you're discouraged, try to find something that's happened in your life like my hypothermia, then remember how, even though it was a really crappy experience at the time, it morphed into something that brought some real good into your life.


Some tips about hypothermia.

Where in the world is YOUR favourite cuppa joe?

"Where is your favourite place to travel?"

Cups up! Campfire cappuccino.

As a travel writer, that's one of the questions constantly asked of me when I meet someone for the first time.

That's not what I'm writing about, though.

If you've ever wandered onto my Facebook personal page, you probably know how much I love coffee. And coffee culture. And trivia about coffee. Friends are constantly posting stuff about coffee onto my Timeline.

And, of course, people always like to know what my favourite coffee is, where is my favourite place to drink or purchase coffee, and - since I'm a travel writer - where is the best cup of coffee I've ever had.

That's easy.

The best cup of coffee I ever had was during my very first international trip (outside of Canada and the U.S.) in 1991.

Belize.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

It was our last day, we had an afternoon flight out of Belize City to LAX, then on to Vancouver.

For our last meal in the country, we decided to go for brunch at the Fort George Hotel.

From the first sip, we knew we'd stumbled on something exquisite. We were having coffee-gasms. Right there in the hotel dining room.

Several cups later, we finally came up for air, and asked our server what kind of coffee it was.

He smiled, and said, "Guatemalan chocolate coffee."

Even Nikki, our African grey parrot, loved Second Cup.
We never feed our birds caffeine, though.

Now it was not "flavoured" coffee; I'm not a fan of that type of coffee (yeah, I'm a purist). The "chocolate" was simply what it was called. It was rich, sweet, fragrant, smooth - and that was just the aroma. It almost didn't need cream or sugar.


After I returned home, I was on a mission to find a coffee as close to that coffee as I could. None of the Guatemalan coffees I tried came close, though. Then, eight months later, at a mall in Edmonton, I decided to grab a coffee at a Second Cup.

Now I'd never tried their coffees, since, at the time, I lived in Fort St. John, B.C. and there were no Second Cups, not even a Tim Horton's there, at the time. I looked at the menu, saw "Guatemalan" beside something called "Huehuetenango." So, I tried it.

Bingo!

While it wasn't exactly what I'd had in Belize, it was the closest I'd ever come. Or ever would come: Sweet, rich, mellow, just about perfect. I liked it so much, I gave them my address and credit card info, and set up monthly shipments of a few pounds to Fort St. John so I could enjoy it all the time.

Slurping coffee aboard a Chilean ship docked in North Van.

Sadly, Second Cup - the only company licensed to sell it in Canada, then - stopped carrying the brand in 2008. I found a place in Ontario that now sells it, and will ship it, but it didn't taste as good as it had in the past, so I've resigned myself to life at Tim's. Cheaper, less hassle, but not as good.

Since that trip to Belize, I've sampled coffee all over the world. Ironically, because we import coffee from places like African and South America for consumption in North America, that often leaves lesser-quality coffee in those countries.

Travelling around Africa for six weeks, I gave up trying to enjoy a good cup of coffee, and opted for tea instead.

Ditto, in Ecuador. Although I didn't give up coffee for tea, it was not as good as the coffee I drank at home.

When I returned to South America six years later, Starbucks had infiltrated the consumer coffee market, so forget about enjoying an authentic native coffee.

Starbucks in Lima tastes the same as Starbucks in Taipei, which tastes the same as Starbucks in Vancouver, which tastes the same... you get the picture. And yeah, I'm not a Starbucks fan. If I want burnt coffee, I'll take a cup of Tim's and re-heat it in the microwave.

I have enjoyed good cups of coffee elsewhere.

The best iced cappuccino I've enjoyed was a Terri's Cappuccino Bar in Fort St. John. It was a regular daily indulgence there, winter and summer, for two years.

Don't forget to add the Bailey's!

And nothing beats a cup of "campfire cappuccino, brewed on a camp stove, served up with a healthy portion of Bailey's, during a camping or paddling trip.

I tried to obtain some samples of Kopi Luwak during a trip to Malaysian Borneo, as that renowned "civet-poop coffee" is produced in Indonesia. No luck, though - although I did enjoy some wonderful "pulled tea." (As it turns out, the way this coffee is harvested may not be in keeping with good practices with respect to treatment of wildlife, so I may postpone the hunt indefinitely.)

Enjoying a coffee on the road in Haida Gwaii.

As for other coffees...

Kona coffee from Hawaii is VASTLY overrated, in my opinion. I've sampled several cups on both Maui and the Big Island, including some at a coffee plantation.

Quite frankly, I couldn't figure out what the fuss was all about.

And while I've never sampled Jamaican Blue, I suspect my reaction would be much the same as it was to Kona.


That's not to say I'll never enjoy a cup of coffee on the road. But I feel like I've already found the Holy Grail of Coffee, so I'm resigned to the fact that even if I'm at Avalon, the coffee they serve there probably will not match the cup I enjoyed back on that April morning in Central America.