The Banned List

Ever wondered what a writer isn’t supposed to say? Check out this list of oft over-used turns of phrase that have been banned by one of the publications I work with. If the stuff you're reading (or writing) is full of these, it’s time to up your game...

- foodie
- xx-lover’s (eg, art-lover’s / food-lover’s etc)
- referring to people as if they’re defined by one things (‘Urbanites will love…’)
- referring to the reader as a potential tourist (‘Visitors will find…’)
- referring to travellers (‘Most travellers bypass…’) and travel generally
- quirky
- an XX for all the senses
- an assault on the senses
- must-see
- xx's paradise (eg, shopper's paradise)
- trendy/funky
- on-trend
- we're loving...
- XX has it all
- a XX of contrasts
- eye-opening
- oh-so
- spurious references to celebrities
- alliteration
- indulge in a spot of... (eg, pampering)
- good for the… (eg, soul/waistline)
- mouthwatering
- awe-inspiring
- an XX to remember
- fresh (as in ‘fresh fish’ – also ‘comfy’ beds and ‘spotless’ bathrooms: why would we include them if they weren’t?)
- referring to food as ‘tasty’ (you’d hope it would be)
- treat
- gem (particularly ‘hidden gem’)
- boasts… (if the thing doing the boasting is an inanimate object, eg ‘the hotel boasts a pool and spa’)
- ooze (eg, ‘the hotel oozes charm’)
- award-winning (meaningless on its own – and not that helpful unless it’s a widely-known and prestigious award)
- fare (instead of food)
- achingly (hip/pretty etc)
- culture vulture
- The place (for XX or to be seen etc)
- chic, when used excessively (shabby-chic, boutique-chic etc)
- adrenaline junky
- referring to crowds/scenes/type (‘the arty crowd’)
- default adjectives (eg, ‘lush’ for any type of verdant landscape; ‘sleek’ for modern interiors/architecture; ‘cosy’ for bedrooms or pubs, ‘bustling’ for market etc)
- airy (as in ‘light and airy rooms’)
- Think… (when asking a reader to imagine a place)

Vancouver

In a little over a week the Winter Olympics are going to kick off in Vancouver, BC, Canada. Depending on your political persuasion, your social activist penchant or your desire to watch curling on television this event is either a source of excitement or rage. Rage? Really the Olympics conjuring rage in everyday average folks? Yup – if you talk to certain members of the population the mere thought of the Olympics is enough to throw them into a expletive doused tirade that would make a sailor blush.

So what’s the fuss all about?

Nothing in life is straightforward – least of all an event as large as the Winter Olympics. Vancouver, the Provence of British Columbia and the government of Canada (by this I of course mean tax-payers) have all opened their wallets to the tune of billions (yes the b words) to finance the cost of the games. The argument is that this money could be better spent on social programs and that staging an event such as this is at it’s best vanity and at worst a colossal waste of cash.

On the east side of Vancouver sits a neighbourhood called East Hastings. Hastings is one of the worst neighbourhoods in North America. By worst I’m referring to the fact that it has the highest AIDS rate per capita then anywhere on the continent, the crime-rate is the highest of any place in Canada, the average income is the lowest in Canada and the list of other social problems and economic disparity is as long as your arm. The argument is that the money spent on the games could have been better spent on cleaning up this area of town.

Two years ago during the Beijing Olympics, all of the ‘undesirable’ folks (the drug addicts, the beggars, the homeless and so on) were rounded up and shipped out of town to whitewash the problems from the attention of the world. In Vancouver, there isn’t a plan to ship anybody out of town, but there most certainly is a plan to shield the public from seeing the not-so-nice side of the city. When Olympic officials came to Van to give the city the final once-over they were consistently routed around the troubled areas and it was kept most definitely on the down-low.

You can see the arguments that perhaps the dollars spent on luge tracks and giant torches could have been better spent on these people who really do need a hand. I agree – ending poverty, building habitable housing for the unfortunate and providing adequate healthcare for the masses is a cause that goes beyond nobility. But here is the real question – the tough one.

What makes you think that if the Olympics weren’t being held in Vancouver that the government would be doing anything about these problems? The issues in East Hastings have been around for at least 20 years and nothing has been done about it. Status-quo is a hard thing to fight – no matter how apt, noble or universal the desire for change.

There are always better things to spend money on. I make my living writing about travel, adventure and art – these are all things that are surplus to need in almost every way. From a pragmatic point of view the world would be a better place if we spent our surplus funds on charity. But that’s not the reality. I can’t very well condemn the Olympics and then remind people to buy a copy of the travel guide to Hawaii that I wrote. So what do I think is the right thing to do?

In many way’s I’m an idealist – I see the Olympic spirit as one of the last bastions of peace through sport and play. If we remove the Olympics what do we have left? Let the Olympics come to Vancouver BUT don’t let the Olympics blot out the problems that the city has (and so many other cities around the world). The media of the world is there – point them in the direction of what they should see. When else will the eyes of the world be so solely focussed on Vancouver for such an extended period of time? If there were no Olympics nothing would have changed for the underprivileged and there would be zero media coverage of any of these issues.

In judo they talk about using the energy of your opponent and re-directing it back against them. For those that don’t see the same opportunity here, you’ve lost sight of the opportunity of a lifetime.

Reissued - Zion

From the archive - Zion NP - Utah, USA

Sand People

This video has been kicking around for a while and I finally got around to posting it on YouTube so that others could have a look at it. This was shot almost a year ago when I was cycling in Egypt and Sudan. When I came back from that trip I had all sorts of footage that got used for a few different projects – some was used by Lonely Planet to create a few cool vids (Click HERE to see the LP video) and some was used by myself in slide shows and to show friends what the trip was all about. In the end there was some leftover stuff that didn’t get used anywhere and I wanted to make use of it. I came up with the idea of a sort of DVD extra – the cutting room floor as it were. What was left had a fun and kinetic feel to it, so that is how I decided to edit it together. Hope you enjoy, thanks for watching!

West Coast Drip Feed Part II

New Zealand, South Island, West Coast – Drip Feed Part 1

Moab drip-feed part 1

Burning Man Evolution – Video

On the last day of Burning Man there was a strange feeling in the air. It felt like the morning after of a massive house party where there was little to do beyond clean up and try and figure out what just happened. The week was winding down and there was nothing me or anyone could do about it. The Man had burned and the Temple was set to go alight later that day, lost I walked from our camp and onto The Esplanade (the main street of Burning Man). In the morning haze and warming ambiance I saw my wife Sophie standing alone in the desert. She was lost in her thoughts and engaged in kinesthetic meditation. There is something simple, beautiful and wonderfully playful about hula-hooping. There she was lost in her thoughts when this song came on the stereo from the camp adjacent to ours. Teardrop by Massive Attack has always resonated at a deep level for me – there is something haunting about it that has always stuck to my soul. This version was a cover by a guy called Newton Faulkner and it just fit. It was the right song at the right moment with the right things happening right there and then. At that moment that song became the song of the trip – it is and maybe always will be my Burning Man song. When it came time to put together a film of my Burning Man photos and video – there was no need to even think about what song would back them.

This really was an amazing experience that affected me far more then I expected it to. I hope these images in some way convey what this experience was all about. Sit back and enjoy Burning Man through my eyes.

If you can't see this video - click HERE to go straight to the source.

Triplets!

When I arrived home the other day, after three months on the road, there was the usual stack of mail in the box. Junk mail, bills and the odd correspondence. Amongst the letters was a package from the folks at Lonely Planet. I knew exactly what was in there – three babies that have been gestating for quite some time. Fresh off the press and on the shelf at a bookstore near you – Lonely Planet’s Cycling New Zealand, Lonely Planet’s Honolulu, Waikiki & Oahu and Lonely Planet’s Hawaii Guide. Three guides that I put heaps of work into and I’m happy and proud to announce that they are now available and ready to check out! Click on the titles to see more about the books and order directly from the LP website.

Burning Man Photos - Drip-Feed Part II

Burning Man Photos – drip-feed part 1

Burning Man

It’s 3am on Wednesday night or I guess it would be Thursday morning. Days have lost their meaning. The desert air is cool and clear. The dust storm from earlier today has cleared to form a crystal sky. I can feel the structure swaying under the weight of all the people. I’m standing atop 10 meters of scaffolding with far too many people than what the manufacturer would have intended. I’ve just climbed a steep ramp to get to the top of an enormous slide. Like a kids’ slide from a playground reinvented by a mad scientist with no regard for public safety. In front of me the slide starts of at a reasonable angle before dropping away to near vertical for 25m and finally leveling out at the bottom. I should be scared that the whole contraption is going to implode. I should be scared that I’m going to get run over by some overzealous overindulged slider. But the truth is all that is the least of my worries. In truth I’m terrified that the catholic schoolgirl outfit I’m wearing – complete with micro-mini skirt - will offer me no protection from the inevitable rug burns from the Astroturf slide surface. Before I launch myself into oblivion I take one last look at the horizon. I can see fountains of fire bursting into the sky, full scale Spanish galleons sailing around the desert, the Thunderdome from Mad Max in full combat mode and countless other weird and wonderful things exploding around me. I tuck in my skirt, say a silent prayer to the god of rug-burn and go for it. Welcome to Burning Man.

Before I went to Burning Man all of my friends were asking what it was going to be like. In truth I didn’t have much I could tell them. Using the vernacular of the event I was a virgin – it was my first time. I was full of questions, unknowns and a genuine curiosity of what this thing was going to be all about.

So what was it all about? The week long event finished a fortnight ago and in many ways I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck it was all about. I look back on it now and it’s still a blur. Moments wrapped up in emotion, lit by fire and nurtured by love. People assume that Burning Man is some huge debaucherous party or some aged hippy love in. Or that it’s some raver thump-thump e-fest. Maybe it’s some oversized art festival with more cash spent on large scale art then I care to imagine. Maybe it’s just a huge social experiment with 40,000 people living together for a week in relative harmony. Maybe it’s normal people leaving normality behind for a week. Maybe it’s a playground for adults where flamethrowers, giant slides, contraptions with names like The Teeder-todder of Death are commonplace. Maybe it’s a place of unbridled creativity running wild for all to see. It’s a city, it’s a family, it’s anything you can imagine and some things you can’t. It’s all that. It’s none of that. It’s all a dream. It doesn’t exist. Don’t believe what you’ve heard. Run away. Forget what you think you know. It’s ok. Come closer. Sit a while and take it all in.

Burning Man is something that I will never forget and it’s something I’ll never really be able to fully explain.

have a look at this amazing time lapse video and get a taste...

San Francisco

Jack

I arrived in San Francisco late last night. The flight from Calgary was without incident – as I flew I tried the roughly guess how many ‘plane-rides’ I’ve been on in my life. After adding up the flights of the last year I realized that an admission of such a vast carbon footprint would summon Al Gore to absail through a skylight and arrest my ass – so I stopped counting. My friend Kelly picked me up from the airport and we headed into the Mission district to find some food. We settled upon a charming pizzeria that boasted the third best pizza in America, according to GQ Magazine – at least that’s what our camp-as-a-row-of-tents waiter was boasting. The pizza was great and the luscious vino was perhaps even better.

Today I hit the town – riding the train to the heart of the city my first port of call was Columbus street and the ‘Beat’ area of town. As a writer I have a few fellow scribes that I put upon a rather tall pedestal. The top rung of this bro-mance from afar is dedicated to Jack Kerouac. Kerouac wrote the seminal Beat Generation novel, ‘On The Road’ – which faithful readers of this blog will remember as my favorite book of all time. On the edge of Chinatown is a little alleyway that has been named in his honor – Jack Kerouac Lane is nothing more then a 100m stretch of pavement connecting two streets. Inset in the pavement are Jack’s words – immortalized for all to see.

Just around the corner is the ramshackle, “Beat Museum” which tells the story of Kerouac, Ginsberg and all of the other legends of the form. Though lacking in actual artifacts, save a few first additions it is home to a wealth of information and reprinted photos. Here is where things start to get a bit weird. I was standing in the museum, minding my own business when some middle aged woman walks up to me and says, “Oh my god, it’s amazing. It’s uncanny. You look exactly like him!” I wasn’t sure what she was talking about and was a bit perplexed that this random stranger would start of such a strange conversation with me. I replied, “Excuse me??”

“You look just like him. Just like Kerouac!”

If she was looking for some way to placate me, some sort of red button to push that would convince me to buy whatever she was selling I was in. she had me. “Really you think so?”

“absolutely, it’s amazing!”

I was flattered and a bit uncomfortable – I’m not so sure I see what she’s talking about. But imagine if you were a huge Elvis fan. You had all of his records, you could recite the set-list from the ’65 comeback special from memory and knew those trainspotter details that either make you look cool or strange depending upon the company you keep. And one day you head to Graceland and somebody comes up to you and says that you look just like the king – odd.

The rest of the day was spent cruising around the streets, checking stuff out. Dinner with an old friend (Sharif from my African Adventure) and a long awaited good nights sleep…

Looking forward back

Ten years is a long time. A decade gone in an instant. In 1999 I was living in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. I had just graduated from art school (The Western Academy of Photography) and I was about to enter a new stage of life. I was finished with school and I was ready to venture into the greater world. At the time I was working with young people through the YMCA, helping to develop young leaders. As an exercise we wrote letters to ourselves to be opened 10 years later.

Today I was going through a bunch of stuff at my folks place and in a long forgotten manila folder I found the letter. I’d forgotten that I’d actually written in, let alone what I might of said. Ripping open the envelope I was filled with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. Fear that I might not have lived up to my expectations and interest to see where my 22 year old headspace was at.

The letter consists of a series of pre-ordained questions – and the answers were sometimes laughable, sometimes prophetic and sometimes dead on – here it is, in all it’s ragged and honest glory:

Name: Scott Kennedy (still true!)
Nickname: Stumpy (in some circles, that’s still me)
My Closest friends are: Renee, Gavin, Jon (Renee was my girlfriend at the time and we still keep in touch, Gavin and Jon are still great friends – even though we are thousands of miles from each other much of the time)
Some cool expressions these days are: “The Shit” “The Bomb” (looking back, I don’t think they were that cool – even at the time)
My favorite teacher ever was: Gary Koroluk (still true)
When I’m not in school, I like to: Climb (still true, though I like lots of other things now.)
My favorite band is: Pearl Jam (still true)
My best memory from 1999 was: Climbing in Utah (it was an awesome trip as I recall – ironically I will be there again in a month)
My favorite movie is: The Empire Strikes Back (still true, honest!)
Favorite book: On The Road – Kerouac (Still true)
Usually, I like to wear: Comfy clothes (more true then ever)
Some important world events I witnessed I the 90’s were: I saw Star Wars Episode 1 on the first day it opened (OK I should be getting points for honesty that I am sharing this. My god – the end of communism, the end of the millennium and so much more and the best I can do is Star Wars – fuck me.)
I dream of being: Climbing / ski bum, mountain guide, photographer (done all those things! And loved them all!)
Though I’ll probably end up a: ski bum (to be honest, it’s over-rated in the long term)
If I could give any advice to the future me, I would say: Remember, have fun! (I still stand beside that)
In 10 years I will be: a Mountain Guide (true – though I don’t do much guiding these days)
And I will have: happiness (you bet!)
The world will have found solutions to: Hunger (sadly not yet)
And a major discovery will be: cure for cancer (nope)
I think the biggest trend will be: Polka music (I believe I was taking the piss – good god I hope I was taking the piss…)
By 2010 I will have traveled to: Everywhere – Thailand, Nepal, France, Asia, Alaska (well I’ve traveled nearly everywhere – though not to Thailand, Nepal or Alaska…)

All and all it was an amusing trip down memory lane – it’s interesting to see what my goals were at the time and how as I’ve grown since then – or not grown in some ways!

photo of the day

midnight overpass

Freedom.

What is freedom? It’s the right to choose, it’s the right to refuse, the right to do anything or even the right to do nothing. Maybe freedom can be as simple as becoming unencumbered. To steal a metaphor from the most American of pastimes, baseball - this is what today was. On my bike tour it was like I was swinging two bats in the on-deck circle, today I dropped one and swung for the fences.

Calgary is an awesome place to ride a bike through. Once upon a time the powers that be decided to crosshatch the city with paved bike paths facilitating commuting and riding throughout the city without ever crossing a city street. This morning I left my parent’s house in the far northwest of the city and headed downtown. Within 5 minutes of leaving the house I was on the pathway system and headed south. Mid-week, mid-morning the path was all mine. Gone was the rack loaded with gear. Gone was the handlebar bag, the flag, the florescent vest, the GPS, the expectation of miles, the wonder of where I might sleep tonight. The bike felt light as a feather, like an overpowered muscle car just begging to go faster.

The perfect pavement urged me faster and faster. Like an un-caged animal I let loose, standing up on the peddles, giving it all I got. Paralleling the freeway I felt like I was gaining on the semi-trucks. Where once they used to clip at my heels, today I was making my own way, on my own road. Soon enough I was downtown. I played and danced among the traffic, trackstanding at the red lights and running the yellows when the coast was clear. Hopscotching uptown I weaved up the one-ways and down the side streets. Bump onto the sidewalk, skip to the front of the traffic line and beat them across the intersection. mashing on the pedals, music raging in my earphones. Sunkist pavement, lunchtime pedestrians fill the street, I weave through them like a game of mouse and cat.

After a day of play it was time to head home. Back onto the bike path and hammer the pedals all the way home. 55km for the day and it feels like child’s play. Seems appropriate – the freedom to play.

While I was in town I picked up this t-shirt – never more an appropriate find.

shirt detail

The Final Recap

Distance - 2000km
Location – Burlington, Ontario – Winnipeg, Manitoba
Accommodation – hotel 90% of the time, camping 10%
Weight before ride – 175lbs
Weight after ride – 165lbs
Thigh circumference before ride – 19.5”
Thigh circumference after ride – 23”
Days riding – 14
Average distance per day – 143km
Rest days – 3
Number of days with significant hills – 13
Number of days with rain – 4
Furthest day – 216km
Number of days over 160km (100miles) – 5
Number of flat tires - 2
Song of the trip – Alive – Pearl Jam

I'm in there somewhere, on the right about half way to the stage.

Beard status – there is was… gone

Photo of the trip – The Road

The List

It seemed to be a common denominator, whoever I met as I was on my bike ride would always say, “wow, you don’t have a lot of stuff!” it’s true I went mega-light, but I did have all that I needed. So I thought I’d show you what I took and point out some stuff that was in the ‘must have’ category.

L to R top to bottom

1 – Marmot ultralight rain jacket
2 – Mountain Equipment Co-Op Drifter +15 sleeping bag
3 – Thermarest Z-Lite sleeping pad
4 – Patagonia zip-off trousers
5 – Mountain Hardware fleece shirt
6 – Specialized Cycling shoes
7 – Pearl Izumi Cycling jersey
8 – shower cap from hotel (used to cover handlebar bag in rain)
9 – toothbrush (with handle cut off)
10 – Integral Designs SilTarp
11 – water bottles (x2)
12 – Canon HD Video Camera
13 – tensor bandage
14 – Patagonia Capaline boxer shorts
15 – zip-ties
16 – MEC arm warmers
17 – Seal Line 20L Drybag
18 – Giro bike helmet
19 – Icebreaker Superfine wool t-shirt
20 – Ibuprophen
21 – Solio Solar charger (charges iPod, Cell phone, GPS, etc.)
22 – camera case
23 – passport
24 – extra tape for video camera
25 – extra battery for video camera
26 – sun glasses
27 – 8GB USB stick
28 – Petzl Headlamp
29 – Canada flag
30 – maps
31 – micro bike lock
32 – 10m of cord
33 – camera battery charger
34 – tent pegs (x4)
35 – solar charger cables
36 – cell phone charger
37 – iPod Charger
38 – Garmen Etrex Legend CX GPS
39 – cell phone
40 – iPod
41 – handlebar bag
42 – Pearl Izumi bike shorts
43 – sunscreen
44 – Pearl Izumi Bike gloves
45 – Icebreaker running socks
46 – MEC mini dry bag
47 – cycle computer
48 – bike lights
49 – Leatherman
50 – hand sanitizer
51 – extra screws
52 – tire levers
53 – spare break pads
54 – eye glasses
55 – reflective vest
56 – energy bars
57 – Buff headscarf
Not pictured – Canon G9 digital camera, Gary Fisher Wingra touring bike, ASUS Eee PC 8.9" netbook laptop compter and case, flipflops, Chafe ease cream, bike tool, extra tube, patch kit.

So what were the most valuable pieces of gear? The shower cap was invaluable, the iPod kept me sane, the GPS kept me on track, the good quality bike shorts were worth every cent.

What didn’t I use? Cell phone charger, USB stick, lights, spare break pads.

Total weight – 22lbs (not including bike)

That’s it and that’s all. Other then a few extra bits and pieces that I didn’t use, I was super happy with everything I brought. I wasn’t left wanting anything and wasn’t ready to ditch anything in the bush along the way.