T H I S+W E E K

Veritable Venice
By John Krich
A summer resident savors the city's eternal spirit -- and contemporary contradictions

Australia by horseback
By Pippa Gordon
Here's a novel way to see Queensland -- and to share a mother-daughter journey

D E P A R T M E N T S

Road Warrior
By Don George
Adventures of the Business Traveler

The Surreal Gourmet
By Bob Blumer
L'eau de vie: Cognac with every meal

Mondo Weirdo
Hippos in the night

> Readers' Tips and Tales
Lost in the Sahara

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Your virtual travel agency

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LA S T+W E E K

Tuesday, Sept. 16, 1997

Lost in the Sahara
By Jeffrey Tayler
A simple overnight trip becomes a battle for survival
A N D
Dunescapes
By Pamela Roberson
A desert portfolio

A full list of all
Wanderlust articles

Andrea O'Donnell | Lost in the Sahara
10:53am Sep 18, 1997 PST (#2 of 3)

not exactly an adventure, but I coasted a few miles into the Sahara on a very vicious camel once. When it eventually threw me off, I refused to get back on and in typical form - 'I'd rather crawl home on my hands and knees than get back on that [expletive]' - I trotted off. Within minutes, my leg muscles were straining at the effort of walking through the incredibly dense sand. The heat was stifling, even though it was dusk. Pretty soon into my trek, psycho-camel passed me out with a contemptuous shake of the head and a disgusting gob of spit. By the time I got back to base camp, I was on my hands and knees, and very, very repentant.

Selene Ilios | Baltimore: Beyond the Inner Harbor
04:32pm Sep 17, 1997 PST (#12 of 12)

... i grew up in the boonies, up near the PA line, after my folks moved up from North Carolina. By the time I was 16 or so, we were heading down to the city for fun (country life to a curious 16 year old is one long continuous torment).

Now, I remember Blaze Starr's 3 O'Clock Club--she was in her 50's by then, but was still one of the most famous burlesque queens in America. Her club was in the area called The Block. Everybody knew The Block. It was devoted soley to the carnal desires of the city's workingman, for the most part. It was dreary, which made the neon all the more intoxicating. And I remember that the strip clubs were the only place to hear good, funky, gritty music. The bands played anythng, as long as the strippers could do their grind. I experienced my first hooker in one of those dumps; her name was---get this---Kitten.

And I remember around Fells Point the rats were as big as Shetland ponies; that whole area, where "The Harbor" is now, was trashed, filthy, and spooky; filled with drunken sailors and hoods.

Highlandtown; tough, ethnic Pole (I think) neighborhood, for the most part. Brick. Everywhere brick. Dundalk; tough, Irish, depressing.

I hated the goddamn place! Sort of . . . at least half the time, anyway. I just can't believe what they've done to it.

Chris Arnold | The Ugly American -- Why Does the World Love to Hate U.S. Tourists?
02:03am Sep 17, 1997 PST (#54 of 57)

boston baseball meet on prefs page. Yeah, the truth of the matter is that individually American tourists are often very well-behaved overseas. I'm caught in the interesting position of being a de facto American living in England, even though when I was growing up in America I always considered myself a British ex-pat. When I moved here and people heard my American accent I was called to account for all things American, which obviously got on my nerves. Europe is bombarded by American culture (TV, films, music) and American political news, and even though it's true that Europeans buy the stuff, there's just as much grumbling about American cultural imperialism.

Europe is caught in this fascinated love-hate thing with the States. There does seem to be such a huge pipeline of info, news, entertainment, etc. from the US to Europe, and many people are fascinated by what life in the US must be like (they want to know how Americans can stand living in a country with a. that many guns, b. that many television channels, c. that many fundamentalist Christians, and d. such large geographic area). At the same time, America is viewed sort of as an embarassing relative, a bit like John Candy in Planes, Trains and Automobiles. It really bothered me when I first moved here, because many of the patently ridiculous things about the US (the same things that made me move to the UK in the first place) were heaped upon my shoulders. Eventually I learned to shrug and say "yes, the US is in many ways completely mad, but there are good things about it, and its diverse enough to largely avoid the worst features". It will be very interesting to go back to the States, as I'm doing this week, and see exactly how much I'm changed.

Readers' Tips and Tales Issue No. 24 | 23 | 22 | 21 | 20 | 19

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