What?? Look at me – so happy!
Yep, you read that right: I am now heading up Travel for Yahoo! And I’m beyond excited. So, things at A Broad Abroad will be… a little slow for a while. I got a relaunch to do. Bear with me, and sign up (on the right hand side) for a subscription so you’ll get all the updates emailed to you! But things are about to get real exciting real fast.
After the jump, the full press release!
The Puppy looks awfully Banksy, no?
On the edge of Kabul, Afghanistan, framed by the snowy peaks of the Hindu Kush, lies the Darul Aman Palace, the former home of Afghan King Amanullah Khan. Built in the 1920s as part of a modernization campaign by the King, it now sits ravaged by thirty years of war. But it never had a peaceful history. According to Wikipedia:
Darul Aman Palace was gutted by fire in 1969. It was restored to house the Defence Ministry during the 1970s and 1980s. In the Communist coup of 1978, the building was set on fire. It was damaged again as rival Mujahideen factions fought for control of Kabul in the early 1990s. Heavy shelling by the Mujahideen after the end of the Soviet invasion left the building a gutted ruin.
Over the years, the Russians, the mujahideen, the Taliban, local artists and the Americans have all left their mark – and it’s known amongst select few as a sort of gallery of war art. I was recently allowed inside as one of the guys I was with knew the guards (always helpful to have friends in high and low places!) and as I was wandering around, saw the most amazing graffiti art… which looked like something out of the Banksy playbook. I was assured it was just an homage – but… you never know.
After the jump, more amazing graffiti and pictures of the actual palace:
In homage to Cher’s new world tour, I recreated her “If I Could Turn Back Time” video … on a Russian Tank in Afghanistan
You can get almost anything in America – except a good old fashioned Soviet era tank in which to fool around on… or a wood handled Kalashnikov to play with. Funny that. So imagine my delight when I saw the abandoned tank field in front of the police station in Bamiyan. It was like I turned into a saucy little head scarved five year old.
After the jump – more fun with tanks and guns… and the original Cher video I was trying to recreate (sadly sans a Bob Mackie onesie).
Someone is confused… “What do you Mean-o You-o Don’t-o Get-o My EYEtalian???? It’s Goddamn perfect-o!”
Last April, pigs flew. I boarded a cruise ship with my 74-year-old father. Let me rephrase that: I, who am terrified of boats and get seasick at the sight of water, went on an eight-day excursion from Barcelona to Monaco with a born-again, gun-collecting Tea Partier who [despite getting his uvula removed] snores like a drunken sow. And we shared a room.
[Ed Note: Seriously, do you know how many people die on cruises? The 2011 Costa Concordia disaster aside, every year during cruise season there’s like a story once a week about someone “accidentally” or drunkenly falling overboard – and don’t even get me started on the Norovirus… or the suicide rate of someone who has sat through one too many floorshows].
But then I was offered a cabin with a balcony (so I could always jump if need be) on the Azamara Cruise from Barcelona to Monaco. And before the Ambien I’d taken the night before could wear off, I was on the phone asking Daddy to go with me. When she found out, my older sister said what everyone else was thinking: “Have you lost your damn mind?”
BUT. Not only did the experience change our relationship for the better, we now have plans to do it once a year. And so, because I now think everyone should bond with their parents on a trip, I offer you some tips for how to travel with a parent:
I’m not even sure I can express how much I love Udaipur, India. the first time i went in 1996, I was mesmerized – I mean, how many cities have lake palaces that you have to take a boat to and you can stay in (it’s a Taj Hotel) – also known as Octopussy’s harem home in the Bond flick. Theres the main City Palace (above) and the Monsoon Palace (Khan’s home in Octopussy) which is on top of a mountain and has the most incredible views out into the mountains and over the valley. The women walk around in brightly colored saris and there are even elephants wandering the streets.
i love an elephant out on the town
Your imagination goes wild here.
And bonus: it’s fun and funny as hell.
I love a death doll
Chichi is cool for so many reasons – chief amongst which is: it has the largest indigenous market in Central America. Clearly, I had to go. And I was not disappointed. Mayans, for miles around, come in every Thursday and Sunday to sell intricately sewn textiles, death masks, chickens, dolls, sweaters, chotchkes, you name it, all at the foot of the 400-year old church of Santo Tomás. The church is built atop a Pre-Columbian temple platform, and K’iche’ Maya priests still use the church for their rituals, burning incense and candles and in really special cases, they burn a chicken for the gods. It’s kind of amazing – especially as I’d assumed all the Mayans died out years ago. I was wrong. Thank God. [Ed note: Mayan rituals are a lot like voodoo rituals – involving chickens, blood, candles, booze, cocaine, leaves and fire. I think it must be a universal fact that pluralist gods liked to party. A lot]. There was also a sick restaurant area in the middle of the market which served the best fried chicken I’ve ever had, hands down. Don’t tell Aunt Dee I said that. She’ll be pissed.
After the jump: The market from heaven:
Anyone who knows me knows I love glamour. And nothing says sheer eleganza like Spa Castle in Queens, New York. I mean, come on – who doesn’t love a good, old fashioned, Korean scrub n soak in a Persian palace? Spa Castle offers things like “Chocolate Mud Wraps” (the mind boggles); Private “royal” body scrubs; and in “Sauna Valley” you’ll find Ice rooms and infrared saunas where “Each room, equally ornate in structure and design, offers specific healing affects through the combination of the infrared rays converted to heat with the natural essence of the room itself. The lining of each room is made from natural and authentic components, each organically beneficial to the body.” No, they are not kidding – sign me up!
Check out the sheer elegance after the jump:
One day you may find yourself in Bamako, the capital of Mali. I know – crazy, right? But never say never! And if you ever want to see Timbuktu (which I suggest you do), you will have to go through Bamako. Besides, as I learned the hard way, YOU JUST DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE GONNA END UP! And, as some of you may be aware by now, one of my (many) mottos is: Poor Planning Pisses Me Off.
So, After the jump I present you with a list of fun filled, fabulously odd things to do in Bamako that may just change your life:
Oh Heeeyyyyyyyyy….
Throughout history, women have always had things done to them to make them “beautiful.” Nowadays, we pluck, wax, shave, inject, and silicon bag ourselves all so we can be pretty. But the saddest part is, due to globalisation, everyone kind of looks the same.
When traveling and visiting historical sites or archaeological digs, you quickly start to realize that that chick to the left in the Santa suit would’ve been passed over by pretty much every guy on the planet a few hundred years ago. Back in the day, before airplanes and all that, beauty was pretty subjective and every region had it’s own idea of what was hot. Most of which we’d find pretty hideously fascinating today.
Take for example the Mayans. Now they used to think women with flat foreheads, crossed eyes and razor sharp, piranha like teeth were the shizznit. So, according to my guide in Chichicastenanga (Guatemala), when Mayan girls were very young, boards would be tied to their heads with a bead hanging from it (so the eyes would be trained to cross) and their teeth were filed to sharp points to look like Jaws. Don’t even get me started on what their talent would be… I have no clue. But the imagination boggles – biting through trees? Severing chicken heads? Pillaging neighboring Incan villages?
Hello, gorgeous…
The view from the top. It was hell getting there.
While I do love traveling alone – sometimes you have to join a small group of randoms you don’t know. Which I actually find fun – you learn how to deal with other people, how to behave yourself and hear some really funny things. I joined a group in Colombia when I decided to do the trek to La Ciudad Perdida – an archaeological site of an ancient city in Sierra Nevada, Colombia. It is believed to have been founded about 800 AD, some 650 years earlier than Machu Picchu. Ciudad Perdida consists of a series of 169 terraces carved into the mountainside, a net of tiled roads and several small circular plazas. The entrance can only be accessed by a climb up some 1,200 stone steps through dense jungle. And the entrance can only be accessed by a three day hike up 90 degree sloped jungled hills across rivers, over two inch ledges and some seriously shaky slat bridges. But there was the promise of an added bonus: A Real Live Cocaine Factory. (Note: I do not do drugs, but I do do effed up experiences like checking out how these things worked).