Freelance travel writer Chuck Thompson first came to the attention of the public with his book about the realities of travel writing, Smile While You're Lying. I enjoyed and sympathized with his message that it's almost impossible to make a sensible living as a guidebook writer if you're expected to absolutely visit all the assigned destinations. His other advice is that travel should be full of adventure and risks, which I also support. So I gave his first book a big thumbs up, despite the howls of indignation from the travel writing community. Oh well.
And now Chuck has gone and done it again with his second book entitled To Hellholes and Back: Bribes, Lies, and the Art of Extreme Tourism. You can order it today at Amazon.
The National Geographic Blog offers up a fine interview with Chuck which sheds light on why he wrote the book, his opinion on so-called "dangerous" destinations, and the importance of getting off the road to find new experiences. He also points out that his former themes of being a travel writer are now less important and he's moving on to new subjects. He's a man to watch.
Christopher Elliott conducted the interview, which was also posted on Chris' blog a few days earlier.
What's the common thread between your designated 'hellholes'?
On the most basic level, they're all places that have earned extremely negative reputations with people who have never been there. Taken together, they represent the whole spread of traveler paranoia -- from crime, disease and bloodshed to standing in long lines in the Florida sun next to little Caitlins and Coopers waiting to get on the Rock 'n' Roller Coaster Starring Aerosmith. India's death-or-glory salesmen and promise of GI infections intimidated me personally, but as a global outsourcing hub and magnet for terrorists, it neatly packages the worst economic, cultural and political fears of modern America. So, a book covering these places seemed like it would have both personal meaning and universal relevance.
What's the point you were trying to make by visiting these places?
I didn't start off with any point in mind other than to confront some of my own biases and see what happened. I try to approach everything I write about with as agnostic a mindset as possible, which, sadly, is not much the fashion these days.
The predictable and perhaps natural way to go into a project like this is to assume that you'll come out at the other end with a cheery, hands-across-the-sea message of global brotherhood and a stern lesson about judging others from afar. But I went to these places willing to call a spade a spade. If my experience supported it, I was fully ready to say, "You know what? I was right. This place really does suck. This society is completely screwed up."
What I finished with was something in-between. The Congo and its ubiquitous AK-47s I never need to experience again. But I gained more respect for Miley Cyrus than I would have thought possible.
Of all these destinations, which one scared you the most?
Easily the Congo. For one, just the genuine threat of violence. I mean, there's a civil war going on there.
But more than that, the complete lack of information was alarming. It turns out virtually nobody goes to the Congo. Consequently, it's almost impossible to get an accurate idea about what's going on there, how to get around, and so on. Even the major guidebooks devoted to Africa include only a few perfunctory pages about the country. And all the Africans I spoke to said, "Do not go to Congo under any circumstance!"
For a while I thought I'd have to abort the trip. Then I found Henri, who got me through the country, but turned out to be an adventure in and of himself.
It seems as if you're saying as much about tourists -- specifically American tourists -- as you are about the destinations you visit. What are you trying to say?
My general point about American tourists is that by and large I think they're pretty polite and open-minded and no worse than any other travelers and not at all deserving of that old "ugly American" tag.
The larger thing I discovered while traveling for this book is that while everyone seems to love bitching about the Americanization of the world -- from McDonald's to Disney to gluttonous consumerism -- the reverse seems to be much more the case these days. The world is influencing America far more than America is influencing the world. And often not in a good way.
Political corruption essentially taken for granted. Religious intolerance. Municipal bankruptcy. Enfeebled currency. Military adventurism. Toothless media. In one section I used the dismal ascendancy of soccer in this country as a symbol for all of this social decay -- which I know will get a lot of people thinking I'm an ass in the same way that I angered Eric Clapton fans by dumping on him in Smile When You're Lying, but to me it's an apt and sort of funny metaphor.
You seem to have laid off criticizing travel writing in this book, for the most part. Do you feel as if you made your point in your last book, or do you still have something to say about travel writing? If so, what is it?
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