The Vagabond
/ / Published 9 October 2008 in Vita.mn (print and online)
There's a point in Rolf Potts' new book when the travel writer goes somewhere particularly unexpected: Kansas. Sandwiched between a chapter about a three-month sojourn in Thailand and a satirical essay about walking across Andorra, this tale of a trip to a museum in a sleepy Midwestern town feels oddly exotic in its familiarity.
"I wanted to show that the attitude of travel can help you see past the superficial surface of your home, too," Potts explained by phone from Chicago in the midst of a tour for his book "Marco Polo Didn't Go There: Stories and Revelations From One Decade as a Postmodern Travel Writer." "Off the beaten path doesn't just mean a village in Nepal but also can be someplace nearby that is outside of your normal habits and prejudices."
It's this ever-curious approach, as well as his turn-on-a-dime ability to mix gonzo adventure with nuanced rumination -- often in the same story -- that make Potts stand out in the world of travel writing. He seems like the ideal drinking companion, full of verve, incredible tales and unexpected insights, all of which are sure to be on full display during appearances at the Twin Cities Book Festival on Saturday and at Common Good Books on Monday.
Potts' first book, "Vagabonding: An Uncommon Guide to the Art of Long-Term World Travel," laid out his egalitarian travel ethos and offered a how-to guide for those interested in following in his ever-wandering footsteps. In spite of the adrenaline and audacity running through many of his own stories, his overall travel philosophy is not expressly adventure-driven: "This book is not for daredevils and thrill seekers," he writes, "but for anyone willing to make an uncommon choice that allows you to travel the world for weeks and months at a time."
In its own way, "Marco Polo Didn't Go There" is an even more enticing advertisement than "Vagabonding" for the joys of travel. Granted, you'd be hard-pressed to replicate, say, the misadventures in "Tantric Sex for Dilettantes," a hilariously self-deprecating tale involving a Lenny Bruce-quoting swami, unrequited love and no actual sex scenes. But each chapter presents a compelling case for the transformative wonders of venturing into the unknown, and makes you take stock of your life, makes you think, "Why can't I be that guy?"
Potts may not have the name recognition of Bill Bryson, Paul Theroux or Frances Mayes, but "Marco Polo Didn't Go There" should help change that. From the opening pages, in which he crashes the Thailand set of the movie "The Beach," he establishes that his is a voice to be remembered and savored. In lesser hands, this tale could read as an obvious, swaggering farce, but Potts uses the quirky quest as a means to methodically tug at the frayed edges of the tourist experience and to reveal the complexity of the place he's exploring.
"I try to avoid the old stereotypical, hyper-exotic travel account," Potts said, "because you can't really get away with that anymore. It's more often the counterintuitive part of the experience that is most telling about a place."
The results of this philosophy may not be the sort of stories that would be approved by the local tourism board, but these extra layers of insight make the tales all the more interesting.
_______________
Like this? Read a story about my own attempt at semi-gonzo journalism: The Old Ba' Game
/ / Published 9 October 2008 in Vita.mn (print and online)
There's a point in Rolf Potts' new book when the travel writer goes somewhere particularly unexpected: Kansas. Sandwiched between a chapter about a three-month sojourn in Thailand and a satirical essay about walking across Andorra, this tale of a trip to a museum in a sleepy Midwestern town feels oddly exotic in its familiarity.
"I wanted to show that the attitude of travel can help you see past the superficial surface of your home, too," Potts explained by phone from Chicago in the midst of a tour for his book "Marco Polo Didn't Go There: Stories and Revelations From One Decade as a Postmodern Travel Writer." "Off the beaten path doesn't just mean a village in Nepal but also can be someplace nearby that is outside of your normal habits and prejudices."
It's this ever-curious approach, as well as his turn-on-a-dime ability to mix gonzo adventure with nuanced rumination -- often in the same story -- that make Potts stand out in the world of travel writing. He seems like the ideal drinking companion, full of verve, incredible tales and unexpected insights, all of which are sure to be on full display during appearances at the Twin Cities Book Festival on Saturday and at Common Good Books on Monday.
Potts' first book, "Vagabonding: An Uncommon Guide to the Art of Long-Term World Travel," laid out his egalitarian travel ethos and offered a how-to guide for those interested in following in his ever-wandering footsteps. In spite of the adrenaline and audacity running through many of his own stories, his overall travel philosophy is not expressly adventure-driven: "This book is not for daredevils and thrill seekers," he writes, "but for anyone willing to make an uncommon choice that allows you to travel the world for weeks and months at a time."
In its own way, "Marco Polo Didn't Go There" is an even more enticing advertisement than "Vagabonding" for the joys of travel. Granted, you'd be hard-pressed to replicate, say, the misadventures in "Tantric Sex for Dilettantes," a hilariously self-deprecating tale involving a Lenny Bruce-quoting swami, unrequited love and no actual sex scenes. But each chapter presents a compelling case for the transformative wonders of venturing into the unknown, and makes you take stock of your life, makes you think, "Why can't I be that guy?"
Potts may not have the name recognition of Bill Bryson, Paul Theroux or Frances Mayes, but "Marco Polo Didn't Go There" should help change that. From the opening pages, in which he crashes the Thailand set of the movie "The Beach," he establishes that his is a voice to be remembered and savored. In lesser hands, this tale could read as an obvious, swaggering farce, but Potts uses the quirky quest as a means to methodically tug at the frayed edges of the tourist experience and to reveal the complexity of the place he's exploring.
"I try to avoid the old stereotypical, hyper-exotic travel account," Potts said, "because you can't really get away with that anymore. It's more often the counterintuitive part of the experience that is most telling about a place."
The results of this philosophy may not be the sort of stories that would be approved by the local tourism board, but these extra layers of insight make the tales all the more interesting.
_______________
Like this? Read a story about my own attempt at semi-gonzo journalism: The Old Ba' Game
