If places we expect much of sometimes disappoint, the inverse is also true. Today, travellers share about places they visited that turned out to be hidden gems.

From the very obscure to the well-known, each of these travel tales attests to the fact that the best moments in travel catch you by surprise.

Cambodia. (Nomadic Matt)

Cambodia. I didn’t really have any expectations about the country. I knew it would be poor, rugged, and undeveloped. But other than that all I knew was that it had Angkor Wat.  Coming out of Vietnam, a country I hated, I thought anything would be better than there. Cambodia was all the things I said but it was much more- the people were so upbeat, the atmosphere chaotic but relaxed at the same time, everyone was friendly, and happy you were there. Cambodia was the opposite of Vietnam. Though the country wasn’t pretty, the people made up for it. I ended up extending my stay, spending extra time on the coast and in the capital. I can’t wait to go back.

Tasmania, Australia. (Ant Stone from Trail of Ants)

When my girlfriend, Reb decided we were heading to Tasmania I smiled and nodded. Inside I was imagining a timid island doused in dank forests and eerie village folk nibbling on dried salmon. Then I began some light-hearted research and got snowballed by what must be the world’s most intense tourism campaign, and it almost all rang true.

Tasmania is underpinned by some unreal rock formations; from proud cliffs and classic peninsulas to the underworld realms of caves and boastful mountains. Couple this with the world’s most sublime beaches, the world’s cleanest air and a history so epic that it’s rivalled only by its future.

While parts of Tasmania remain undiscovered those that have been are deservedly promoted as regional trophies. Such a stage doesn’t just cater for the endless convoys of caravans and campervans, but also plays home to some of the most untormented populations of wildlife in Australia. From possums and platypus to kookaburras and quolls; add the infamously savage Tasmanian Devil and the absent Tasmanian Tiger (thylacine) and you have a quintessentially furry cast. Timid Tasmania turned and socked me with an unforgettable, unexpected yet truly monumental punch and I’m still unable to stop staggering.

For more information on Australia’s island state check out Discover Tasmania or follow my blog over the coming weeks.

Lake District, England. (Angelina Hart from The Little Travelers)

A place for us that was an “oh, we’re in the neighborhood, so maybe we should check it out” was the Lake District of northern England. We just happened upon the world of Beatrix Potter, which turned out to one of our kids favorite things of our entire trip. It was truly adorable for children ages 2-10. I’ve never read or heard anything about it so it was a wonderfully delightful day that wowed all of us.

Cochamó, Chile. (Eileen Smith from Bearshapedsphere)

Cochamó promised to be just another town standing in the way of home, and I was convinced to go there by a man who was retracing his own history, having been a Peace Corps volunteer in the early years in the skinny republic of Chile. I was not optimistic but willing to give this southern town on the Reloncaví estuary a try.  The water rises and falls with the tides, flooding the front yards of the hastily-built stilted homes constructed at its edge. I ate a slowfood lunch of fish and salad and the sun hung stable in the sky for hours after it seemed it should have set. I was offered and took five-hour horseback ride, ducking among the trees, eating astringent caqui fruits and hearing the white blossomed ulmos (trees) buzzing with nectar-collecting bees before I even saw them. Giant, climbable granite boulders and cliffsides dwarfed me, my horse and my ever-slipping saddle. Sunset over the estuary was stripey, perfect, and I had aromatic leaves in my pocket given to me by my guide, which I found when I arrived back to the urban sprawl of Santiago.

Nepal. (Dave from The Longest Way Home)

Like a sledgehammer on the side of my head Nepal was my unexpected gem. I’d arrived a few days before Christmas, and was expecting a place crawling with tourists, tours and soulless commercialism.

Instead I found myself walking down a near deserted road in Pokhara breathing in the winters chill air, yet still warm from the high sun. Before me a vivid blue skyline background magnified by the magnificent Annapurna ice capped mountain range. Beside me, the quite, gentle chanting of “Omadi Padi Hum”  flowed out of store fronts as a cow ambled across the road without concern. A local man passed by and pressed his hands together and greeted me with a smile and humble “Nameste” before moving on.

I looked up and felt a lifetime of emotion overcome me. It said quite simply, “this is home”. This is what it feels like.

After near 4 years of searching I finally felt something many had  ridiculed me over, and something I was desperately certain of that existed.

Nepal, is  not my home. But it did, quite unexpectedly, one winters morning give to me the gift of a feeling for something I am searching for; and now know exists.

Dominican Republic. (Rosalind Cummings-Yeates from Farsighted Fly Girl)

Because I tend to over-research like a maniac, I haven’t experienced many destination surprises. The only place that has managed to catch me off guard was the Dominican Republic. I had consciously avoided the island because the country has been charged with many human rights violations, not to mention forced slavery of Haitians working on plantations. That just doesn’t inspire many high expectations. I had been searching for an ecomomical place for a family Spring break trip last April and the Dominican Republic kept coming up. I checked the latest Amnesty International reports and the findings appeared to be a bit better, if only because of the huge push to build resorts and a subway system to increase tourism and raise living standards. But I was still skeptical. We traveled to La Romana, which is a fishing village at the southern tip of the island, hours away from the capitol of Santiago. I was intrigued by the bustling communities whizzing by on motor bikes. Mango trees seemed to dot every street and kids playing baseball were everywhere. We stayed in a hotel with mostly German and French tourists so I was pleased that we had to rely on our Spanish to communicate. From that point, we were embraced like long lost relatives everywhere we went. The warmth of the people was genuine and unexpected. The natural beauty, from caves we discovered horsback-riding, to the nature preserve on Sanoa Island, was unforgettable. Devouring the spicy local cusine of boca chica fish and mangu plantain stew, I got to talk to Haitians who informed me of the political situation. It’s not good, the Haitian border is patrolled and many Haitian workers are afraid to go home because they won’t be allowed back. But they acknowledged that there were more jobs for them and they could send money home.  I learned a lot from my Dominican excursion, mainly that you can’t truly judge a place until you’ve experienced it. 

Midwest USA. (Greg from Greg Wesson’s Esoteric Globe)

The Midwest of the USA has some great places, and most tourists probably would never think of going there.  Chicago, St. Louis, Omaha (even, a stretch to call mid-west, but Denver). There is something about the air in Midwestern cities. It’s so clean and fresh.  Omaha was quite a shock, as most Americans would probably never suggest a tourist stop in Omaha.   The downtown area is nice, they have a beautiful old market area, there are some nice lakes, and you can get excellent steak dinners for not much money.  The area is also home to many German immigrants, and thus home to some great German food.   I had an excellent meal of potato pancakes and a selection of wurst sausages at a little German restaurant in Bellevue called Edelweiss, which I would highly recommend.  Good thing the air is so clean and fresh in the Midwest, because after all that wurst, a night-time stroll to work off some calories was definitely needed.

The jungles of Laos. Photo by Derek Turner.

Lightning Ridge, Australia. (Nora Dunn from The Professional Hobo)

When I rolled into Lightning Ridge – a tiny outback opal-mining town in Australia, I had high hopes but low expectations. And my expectations were perfectly met, when I (initially) saw the faded billboards and weather-beaten look of a town trying too hard to be attractive to tourists.

So after driving more than a little bit out of my way to get there, I was prepared to drive away the following morning.

Lucky for me, I had one evening; one chance for Lightning Ridge to redeem itself. And so it did. In fact, I met such a warm and friendly group of people at a Rotary meeting that night, who introduced me to more fabulous people over the next few days, that I stayed a week in this place I had only intended on passing through. I now have friends there who will surely be so for many years to come.

Sometimes looking beyond the façade of a place and allowing its true colours to seep in can result in the most beautiful of experiences.

Venice, Italy. (Debby Lee Jagerman from Debby’s Departures)

Venice, Italy. Well, yes, I guess I had some expectations, as Venice is obviously quite famous. But, I was not anticipating that I would feel that Venice would be awesome enough to visit at least five times during my five-month solo travels in Europe.

Thinking that I would only travel to Venice once, the first time I went, I explored the tourist sites. But from that experience, I was drawn to Venice, and felt that there was so much more to discover. So I went back again…and again. I visited the islands of Murano and Burano on my next trip. Another time, I just walked up and down the busy main streets, filled with tourists and stores to people-watch and window-shop. My favorite trip was strolling off the beaten path, exploring the quiet side streets, and experiencing the local life. I saw locals use boats as most of us do cars, children playing, and women preparing fresh greens for the evening meal.

Finally, I took my mother and sister to Venice so that they could experience the magic of this city, and so that we could take a sunset Gondola ride together.

And yes, I would even go back again!

Grand Canyon, USA. (Tammie Dooley from Solo Road Trip)

My son and I set out for the Grand Canyon to celebrate his graduation from HS. Seventeen hours later a parking lot filled with buses, crawling with fellow travelers, greeted us. Both had envisioned the Grand Canyon with its sweeping vistas of color, water, sky – not this. We’d projected ourselves into a pristine environment, feet dangling over the side of a steep drop-off, wind ruffling our hair. Struggling to a point that provided a glimpse of the canyon, we returned to the car dejected by our disillusions. At the exit a Ranger asked how we’d enjoyed the Grand Canyon. “We were hoping for something, uhhh, quieter with better views.” The Ranger said, “I don’t know how much time you have, but if you travel to the North Rim of the canyon you’ll get what you came for. Only 10% of the people seeing the Grand Canyon see the North Rim. There’s only one drawback, it’s a 5 hour drive from here.” We thought “exclusivity, feet dangling over the sides, wind ruffling our hair – we’re there!” Wildlife, sunshine, and the slightest of breezes met us this time. Giddy with seeing the panorama before us, we frolicked on the unprotected edges of the pristine North Rim until dark. It was better than anything we’d dreamed.

Po Lin Monastery, Hong Kong. (Nikolas Tjhin from Unearthing Asia)

On a recent trip to Hong Kong, I visited the Lantau Island and went over to the Giant Buddha Statue at the Po Lin Monastery. I wasn’t expecting much, judging from what my local friends said. But as you may as well know by now, travelers would often be intrigued by the small little things that locals find unamusing. This was definitely a good example of that!

The journey towards Po Lin Monastery started with a 20-minutes cable car ride called the Ngong Ping 360, towards Lantau Island from Tung Chung MTR Station. This was an experience in and of itself, with the amazing view to be enjoyed throughout the ride. I can see a walking pathway down below the cable car, which turns out to be this adventurous hiking trail around the island. The ride stopped at Ngong Ping cultural village in which tourists can shop and unwind, but I was more interested with the Giant Buddha Statue and immediately made my way towards Po Lin Monastery.

The walk was steep and the wind cooling (it was winter time in HK), but it was worth the effort – the Giant Buddha Statue was truly a sight to behold. Over 34 metres of bronze atop 268 steps of stairs! There are relics of Sidartha Gautama himself, and various carvings, scriptures and statues. Nearby, I also visited the Monastery which featured a grandiose hall with colorful carvings and paintings. All in all, definitely worth a day trip visit!

Laos. (Derek Turner from The World By Sea)

To be shamefully honest, I couldn’t have even told you where Laos was when I first arrived to Asia. But every time I’d meet a person who’d experienced Asia and the country was mentioned, their eyes would go distant and with a slight smile, they’d murmur something like, “Ahh… Laos…”

Two months later I learned why. My Loatian adventure began with a ½ day drive and a 7-hour hike into a remote village. Oxen stood with goats, stood with chickens and dogs. Children stood barren amongst grass-covered huts. All watching as I walked muddy paths through their village. Corn grew tall, next to fields of rice, next to thick jungles. It felt pure, untouched.

I zip-lined into tree houses, slept atop trees, under nets to the symphonic sounds of nature, and woke to howling gibbons. I rode my bike through villages to waterfalls, and traveled by boat and tube down the Mekong. The people were poor, but no one seemed to notice. I’m not sure in all my travels that I’ve ever a people more genuine-quick to smile and say hello, with nothing at all to sell. It was beautiful.

It’s a place I never planned on visiting, but anytime I pause at the beautiful picture painted by my experience, I can’t help but stare into the distance and smile slightly… Ahh, Laos…

What about you? Have you ever been pleasantly surprised to discover a hidden gem on your travels?

© Gretchen Wilson-Kalav for TravelBlogs, 2009. | 12 Hidden Gems: Great Destinations that Caught Us by Surprise | 18 comments |
Post categories: Panel Discussions
Post tags: Australia, Cambodia, Chile, Cochamó, Dominican Republic, England, Grand Canyon, Hong Kong, Italy, Lake District, Laos, Lightning Ridge, Nepal, off-the-beaten-track, Omaha, Po Lin Monastery, Tasmania, USA, Venice

© Gretchen Wilson-Kalav for TravelBlogs, 2008. | The World By Sea | No comment |
Post categories: Blogs
Post tags: activism, Africa, charity work, Dominican Republic, sea travel, volunteering

Notes from the Road is a recent addition to TravelBlogs, but it’s been around since 1999. The site combines Erik Gauger’s stunning photography – shot on a traditional large-format film camera – with his engaging stories about people and places.

These days, the site is attracting quite a bit of attention, thanks in part to Erik’s detailed coverage of a small Caribbean island’s struggle with an American golf course developer.

TravelBlogs caught up with Erik to talk more about travel, photography and the Guana Cay conflict.

You mention on your site that you often travel to ordinary places. What is it about ordinary places that appeals to you?

Sometimes in travel writing, there is an emphasis on the exotic – the farthest place. I am all for this idea, and I love the travel writer who can make alive a place I have never heard of. But I am an amateur travel writer, and I travel on a budget.

‘Ordinary places’ to Americans are the suburbs, the Midwest, our flat wetlands, our small towns. We know these places well, and our popular culture uses these places as symbols of the ordinary. But I’ve found the extraordinary in places we perceive as ordinary.

I believe that the idea of discovery and awe in travel isn’t increased by how far the airplane flies. In an age of high gas prices and talk about carbon footprints, I think this is an empowering idea for travelers – the excitement and magic of travel exists around the bend.

You can go to Madagascar on a steep budget and have a terrifically organized tour, and see things like never before. But I believe that the idea of discovery and awe in travel isn’t increased by how far the airplane flies. In an age of high gas prices and talk about carbon footprints, I think this is an empowering idea for travelers – the excitement and magic of travel exists around the bend.

Is part of reason you go to ordinary places a distaste for destinations tailored to tourists?

I don’t have a distaste for destinations tailored to tourists at all. Rather the opposite, I cheer them on. You know, us Americans get about two weeks of vacation a year. We just want to make this short time together worthwhile, to reconnect with our family, relax. We travel writers have the opportunity to be arrogant about the ‘authenticity’ of our travel experiences and to dish on those more planned, comfortable travel experiences. But I never want to be that person, I don’t disparage anyone their right to reconnect with their family and drink a rum punch.

But there is a side of the travel and tourism development industry which I dislike, and as an amateur travel writer, it’s my obligation to take this element to task – newspapers don’t have branch offices in Nicaragua, only travel writers can report on the dangers the travel industry poses to cultures and places.

There are a lot of places around the world which have suffered at the hands of big, foreign developments which pay little respect to the local culture, the local environment and in fact often try to duplicate the comforts of the urban west in place of the local style and customs. These are the all-inclusives of the Caribbean, the golf mega-developments of the Pacific, the super-hotels of the Mediterranean and Central America.

I was recently in the Dominican Republic and witnessed the effects of the all-inclusive development atmosphere first-hand. There are huge parts of the coast that are like graveyards for yesterday’s failed mega-developments. The caterpillar tractors are still there, the unfinished hotels like skeletons on the coast.

In Punta Cana, the mega-developments rob their guests of any experience that has anything to do with the Dominican Republic. It is the Las Vegas strip with a beach. My sense was that many people felt trapped, like they wanted to get out and see the country, but couldn’t. Others fell into the trap of the all-inclusive, quickly learning to ask the staff to attend to their every whim – demanding food, complaining about the service, staying indoors at the pool or the buffet.

I also visited a development that is lauded as the opposite of the mega-development. A family run eco-lodge in Nicaragua where literally everything is made locally, and everything goes back into the local economy, and everything is sustainable. It is a place called Morgan’s Rock, and the attention to detail on every single sustainable issue is a model for how developments should be built in the future – places like this are always so much more lovely than those cold all-inclusives. The idea is that tourism development must add to the local culture and environment, not defy it. It must empower the locals in their entrepreneurialism, while celebrating their land and culture. I am always for the side of development that brings jobs, but if it brings jobs at the expense of the environment, it’s just another skeleton coast in the works. These places are real – there are many places in the Caribbean which were once poor and agrarian. Tourism came, the island made economic advances, but the development destroyed the island’s ecosystems, and then the tourism stopped, and the people were poor again, but also their island was not the beautiful place it used to be.

You write that you think travel writing is “the most wide open non-fiction template on Earth”. Who are some travel writers who you think really illustrate this?

My favorite travel writers do not always consider themselves travel writers. When an author of history, science, food or the environment, for example, gets up and travels to write about their subject, is it travel writing? I think so. David Quammen, for his ability to bring biology alive and science alive right in their native elements. Elizabeth Royte, who makes her subjects, and their subject matter, alive. Paul Theroux, for his endless ability to describe people. Andrew Sullivan, who can weave controversy and travel together into a thoughtful yarn. Edward Marriott, for never romanticizing the exotic. There are so many – I like unique accounts by people who are not just travelers, but maybe orchid collectors, or educators, or ornithologists.

You operate with quite a unique photographic set-up, using a large format print film camera. What made you decide to use that kind of traditional camera, rather than going digital?

I am sometimes amazed by people’s reactions to my use of a 4×5 camera. I first started mentioning the type of camera that I use almost as an apology for not having more photographs of people, movement, animals. In the world of blogs, editors sometimes seem almost repulsed by my not using a digital camera, as if I am holding back on the world’s greatest technology, to my own ignorant detriment.

The fact is, I love the advancements of the digital camera, and I carry one in my backpack now, mostly to capture wildlife, document something for later review, and, increasingly, for people shots.

The 4×5 accomplishes my photographic objectives better than any other camera can. I demand the highest level of clarity and sharpest grain. A large format camera has a film surface which makes it like a 500 mexapixel digital camera, and the optics for these cameras are outstanding. But the true benefits of the large format camera come into play in the field. The camera’s simplicity makes it ideal for capturing landscapes. For one, it doesn’t fail in extreme temperatures. And more important, you have perspective control, and you can use the relationship between the front and back of the camera to solve depth of field issues in ways no modern camera will likely ever be able to achieve. It’s kind of like the Mujahidin in Afghanistan. They probably admire these amazing American guns, but they can only use the old Russian kalashnikovs, because of their practicality in the field.

Great Basin, USA: Large format cameras are ideal for landscape photography. By Erik Gauger: Used with permission.

When I observe other travelers with cameras, sometimes I see their use of them as a kind of crutch. Their faces are always in that viewfinder – the digital camera really enables this kind of behavior – it feels like they are missing out on an experience in lieu of bringing back a very long and laborious slideshow to bore their friends. I want to tell them to put the camera away and talk to their wife – when that one extraordinary moment comes, spend time crafting the photograph to perfection.

With a large format camera, every photograph requires a five dollar expense and about fifteen minutes of preparation. This keeps the camera in the backpack all day. It’s assembled only once or twice a day.

One theme that you’re quite passionate about is the topic of development in Great Guana Cay. For the uninitiated, could you tell us a bit more about the Guana Cay and Bimini Bay conflict?

Before the Great Guana Cay incident, I often wrote in Notes from the Road that travel writers have an obligation to write about what is really happening in the places they are writing about. I want to read about the funny things that happens to the author. I want to read about that accommodating hotel. I want to read about that delicious margarita – sometimes. But what if that special place packed away on that faraway beach is suddenly about to be paved over into a theme park, at the objections of the people who live there?

To me, it is the quintessential travel story. It pits poor fishermen in a traditional community against legions of foreign businessmen and billions in investment, and a government whose hands are tied by the hotel industry.

Do I write about the margarita again? I was advocating that travel writers should welcome the controversy, bring alive these places by bringing us the drama.

But then, ironically, I was tested by my own talk.

I had grown up knowing this very small island in the Bahamas called Great Guana Cay. I had dived there many times, teaching myself underwater photography. The northern half of the island was undeveloped, and once, my mother and I were stranded there after our boat’s motor gave out. We had to cross through the interior of the island and make it to the former Disney cruise stopover, which had been abandoned.

We found the caretaker, who was very helpful in getting us help for our boat. But during our stay there, I saw things I wasn’t supposed to see. Although Disney shut down their operation on this island, the dolphins they kept in pens were still there, very visibly scarred and unhealthy. And the place was a mess, just left there to rot away. People were saying that the dredging project to get the cruise ship near the island was responsible for all that mysterious coral dying off the island. Guana Cay has the most spectacular coral reef in the Northern Bahamas, and its tourism industry is a sort of cottage diving industry, based on this reef.

I wrote about the Disney incident for Notes from the Road, but then I found out that a 585 mansion golf mega-development would be built on the island, with a manicured golf course and a marina, which would be blasted from the mangroves. Mangroves, of course, are important for barrier islands like Great Guana Cay for many reasons. They are integral to the health of the island’s fishery, and to the coral reef. The mangroves also protect the island from hurricanes, and the animals that live in these twisted marine forests provide sustenance for the native community that has lived their continuously for 200 years.

Writing about Disney was easy, because I had experienced the issue first hand. But now, I was the only travel writer who was knowledgeable about this new issue facing this same property. One side of me was saying – you don’t have time for this, and this is too obscure an issue for your readers. And another side of me was saying – this is your issue, and this is the travel writer’s obligation. You cannot avoid this, especially since you said it yourself. You are the only person who will ever have the opportunity to bring this issue out of the Bahamas, and into the international spotlight.

In a few weeks, I was hooked. I had interviews with scientists lined up who had been my childhood heroes – people I never imagined talking to. I was reading peer-reviewed coral reef articles, and travel narratives about sea turtle researchers. I was sharing my old photographs of the reef with conservation organizations, and newspapers were calling me to find out how the court case was going.

I was most fascinated with the fact that the golf mega-development proposed for Great Guana Cay had marketed itself as a green development. I knew enough marine science to see through this, but I also knew that the idea that a green development could also be the most environmentally unsound development was a perfect issue for Notes from the Road, because there is drama in these more complicated, involved environmental issues.

I still write about, and work on the Great Guana Cay issue every day. To me, it is the quintessential travel story. It pits poor fishermen in a traditional community against legions of foreign businessmen and billions in investment, and a government whose hands are tied by the hotel industry. It is a story of the tiniest grassroots movement – only about 170 people live on the island – who are literally taking the entire Bahamian government, and one of the most important developments ever to come to the Bahamas, to task for the illegal manner in which the development was given approval to build, and for the countless environmental and cultural travesties the development is, and will, have on the island.

Young mangroves in Guana Cay. By Erik Gauger: Used with permission.

How can we get behind the Guana Cay cause?

I tell people to join the discussion, teach the press about the issue, and apply the story to development issues in their own region. The issue of tourism and ‘sustainable development’ is a complex one, with few precedents. The more people who read about and write about an issue like Guana Cay, the better.

You can check out more of Erik’s writing and photography at his website, Notes from the Road.

© Eric Daams for TravelBlogs, 2008. | Notes from the Road: Interview with Erik Gauger | 2 comments |
Post categories: Interviews
Post tags: activism, Bahamas, Caribbean, Disney, Dominican Republic, Great Guana Cay, Nicaragua, photography, travel writing