The Anniversary Routine: Che Guevara's Travel Technique for Free Food and Drink

Before he became a marxist revolutionary, secular humanist and anti-imperialist martyr, Ernesto Guevara  undertook a spontaneous motorcycle journey with his friend Alfonso to explore the South American continent. The 23 year old, fresh-faced medical graduates, under the guise of leprosy doctors, jumped on 'La Poderosa' and began the comedic, ad-lib adventure documented in Che's travel notes The Motorcycle Diaries.

After numerous disasters and set-backs their haggard motorbike finally gave up in Chile, but through wit and discernment the pair managed to hitch lifts, scrounge for food and find shelter at night to make it to Venezuela. Never knowing where their next meal would come from these tactful backpackers developed a "highly refined technique" that seized advantage of citizen's good-nature. They  labelled it the "Anniversary Routine" (Guevara, pp. 130-131).

Step 1) Say something loudly to your travelling companion, immediately identifiable as your own culture, something containing slang and drawl. The candidate will take the bait, immediately asking where you're from. Use this to  strike up a conversation.

Step 2) Begin to speak of your hardships, but don't make too much of them, all the while maintaining a gaze fixed in the distance.

Step 3) Let your friend intervene and ask for the date. When the candidate provides it your friend should then sigh, saying: "Imagine the coincidence, it was a year ago today." The candidate will inevitable ask; "a year ago since what?"; you then respond that it was was a year ago that your journey began.

Step 4) Let out a gigantic sigh, saying quietly to your friend, as if you were confiding in him: "it's such a pity we're in these dire circumstances and aren't able to celebrate." The candidate will immediately offer to pay for your drinks. Refuse for a while, admitting it would be impossible to ever pay him/her back, but finally accept the offer.

Step 5) After the first drink, you should steadfastly refuse to accept another, whilst your friend makes a concerned  face at you. The host will become a little angry and insist, but continue to refuse without giving reasons. They will continue to ask until you confess, full of embarrassment, that your local custom is to eat when you drink. The host will then also offer to buy you some food. Just how much you can push for will be based on how you judge the candidate's face.

I do not recommend using this snidey trick, honesty and openness being something backpackers pride themselves on, but it is definitely one way to stop yourself from starving. The Motorcycle Diaries contains many others humorous stunts and tales that happened along the way; from Che taking a dump out a window onto someone's orchard to accidentally shooting the dog of a stranger that was kind enough to give them a bed for the night.

Being able to look back on the adolescence of one of the 20th Century's most iconic people in this manner allows us to realise that he was just a normal human being like the rest of us, but a human being that decided to make a change. Through martyrdom, humans can be seen to hold god-like status, when truthfully we are all cut from the same cloth. In the words of the late Margaret Mead: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has."

The Downward Spiral of Consumerism

This post shares with you two pieces of text I have come across that truly convey the stupidity of  the materialist society we are now a part of. People are being constantly tricked through advertising and mainstream media into believing that in order to be truly happy they must have this particular product or buy that particular good. This creates a downward spiral of consumerism in which people are purchasing and purchasing in the hope that they will one day become fulfilled. In reality however this is like trying to keep a bucket full of water; not realising there is a hole in the bottom. The first of these pieces is an excerpt from Charles Bukowski's short story "The Gut-Wringing Macine" which can be found in his The Most Beautiful Woman in Town compilation.

“I would like to work 7 days a week if possible, and 2 jobs if possible.”

“Why?”

“Money Sir. Money for colour TV, new autos, down payment on a home, silk pyjamas, 2 dogs, an electric shave, life insurance, medical insurance, oh and all kinds of insurance and college educations for my children if I have children and automatic doors on the garage and fine clothes and 45 dollar shoes, and cameras, wrist watches, rings, washers, refrigerators, new chairs, new beds, wall-to-wall carpeting, donations to the church, thermostat heating and...”

“All right. Stop. Now when are you going to use all this stuff?”

“I don’t understand, Sir!”

“I mean, when you are working night and day and overtime, when are you going to enjoy these luxuries?”

“Oh, there’ll be a day, there’ll be a day, Sir!”

This highlights the fact that consumerists will always be needing the next thing, in turn never actually getting the chance to truly enjoy what they already have. Everything good will take place at some point in the future. What they don't realise however is that this 'end' is also moving, always remaining slightly out of reach. The second piece of text is a parable taken from Tim Ferriss' 4-Hour Work Week. It's simplicity clearly defined the true value of money. The businessman can only see happiness as a product of accumulated capital wealth - blinded by greed. More is always better on his terms, whereas the wise Fisherman understands that TIME is the only real commodity we should be living by.

An American businessman took a vacation to a small coastal Mexican village on doctor's orders. Unable to sleep after an urgent phone call from the office the first morning, he walked out to the pier to clear his head. A small boat with just one fisherman had docked, and inside the boat were several large yellow fin tuna.

The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish.

“How long did it take you to catch them?” the American asked.

“Only a little while,” the Mexican replied in surprisingly good English.

“Why don't you stay out longer and catch more fish?” The American then asked.

“I have enough to support my family and give a few to friends,” the Mexican said as he unloaded them into a basket.

“But...What do you do with the rest of your time?”

The Mexican looked up and smiled. “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take a siesta with my wife, Julia, and stroll in the village each evening, where I sip win and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, Señor.”

The American applauded and stood tall. “Sir, I'm a Harvard M.B.A. and can help you. You should spend more time fishing, and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. In no time, you could buy several boats with the increased haul. Eventually, you would have a fleet of fishing boats.”

He continued, “Instead of selling your catch to a middleman, you would sell directly to the consumers, eventually opening up your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village, of course, and move to Mexico City, then to Los Angeles, and eventually New York City, where you could run your expanding enterprise with proper management.”

The Mexican fisherman asked, “But, Señor, how long will all this take?”

To which the American replied, “15-20 years. 25 tops.”

“But what then, Señor?”

The American laughed and said, “That's the best part. When the time is right, you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.”

“Millions, Señor? Then what?”

“Then you would retire and move to a small coastal fishing village, where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take a siesta with your wife, and stroll into the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos...”

The Ethos, Pathos & Logos of Travel Writing

Ethos, pathos and logos are the three modes of persuasion coined by Aristotle to classify a speaker’s appeal to their audience. First appearing in his work On Rhetoric, these devices still shape different disciplines such as marketing and advertising, and can be used to greatly assist your travel journals and stories.

Ethos

Ethos is the grounding beliefs that characterise your writing. The word ethics derives from ethos, which refers to the credibility of the writer. Are you deemed by your readers as a reliable source for information? Do they act on your recommendations and suggestions? Do they avoid tourist traps and places not worth the visit? If so then you have this nailed down, but if not how do you convince readers that you are a reputable figure with whom they should have vested interest? This is where the other two parts of the triangle come in.

Pathos

Pathos is the mode of persuasion through which you convey emotion, the word pathetic deriving from this Greek origin. Do your stories suck readers in and get them emotionally attached? Do they make them reminisce about the time they too spent at a particular destination? Or, do they make your reader what to drop everything and buy a one-way ticket so that they to can experience what you are describing? Ideally your travel writing should answer all of these questions affirmatively, but this can prove very difficult.

Don’t make your stories boring, factual accounts of what there is to do somewhere. Your blog should not read like a Wikipedia article. People read your stories for an alternative view on events - to be entertained and inspired - not to be informed about the population of Salta or the approximate topographical area of Brisbane. Facts like this pass into one ear and out of the other. Make your stories passionate whilst retaining the authority of ethos. Sway your audiences with exciting personal experiences, funny anecdotes, and descriptions of the characters you meet on the road. Positive reference experiences will take the fear out of prospective adventurers which in turn may finally convince them to take the plunge and make that journey they have always been dreaming about.

Logos

The final point of the persuasion triangle is logos; the logical appeal of your writing. Facts and figures can make you seem credible, but, as mentioned above, travel writing should be much more emotive than logical, more pathos based than logos. Logos should not focus on information that people can easily obtain through a Google search, but with small nuggets of gold that can genuinely assist a backpacker on a daily basis. What little known local restaurants prove a cheap and hearty meal? Which regional tour companies provide the best value? What are some must do's that won't appear in any travel manual?

Answers to these questions can only be given by someone who has been to that particular place and experienced things first hand. Yes guide books can be useful, but you are not going to venture far off the beaten track by taking all your recommendations from them. Guide books are not bibles, they are 'guides'. Tell your readers about quirky little bars you visited and inviting places you have accidentally stumbled across. This will complete the triangle of persuasion and enhance your ethos in the process.

Root these three aspects within each of your travel stories and you will gain a much more loyal subscription base. They will get to know you on a deeper level, learn to trust you, and share the stories with others. Now, what are you waiting for! Go out there and write...

Look Closer: Break Away From Mainstream Think

Tune in and avert your eyes to the blank telescreen. They’re watching you sleep, telling you to eat what could be Soylent Green. Now look away and go back to bed. They will get what they need when we sleep, work and play, when we consume and OBEY.

Because we are all born in to a controlled mindset. God-money makes a death threat on ethics. Governed by greed and a stale routine. Can we just justify the means if we’re

Plugged in, tuned out? We all need to wake up because we've been detached for too long. We need to de-program from shifting with the public eye. We have a right to question why. See through the lies, re-sensitize, and look closer.

Get schooled, get married, get it on. Start a family. Hurry, move along. You might start to think, make a different move, lose your only mind that you've never used anyway. Walk on the white line. Brainwashed.Walk on the same side. Brain dead. It’s secure and safe like you need it all to be.

Peppering their punchy lyrics with references to 1984, They Live and Soylent Green, Set Your Goals manage to get across a scarily strong message in this otherwise upbeat punk-pop tune. Mainstream media is turning us dumb; turning us into a consumerist society in which supposed happiness can only come through material goods; turning us slowly into robots. This may seem exaggerated at first, but as Set Your Goals say: "Look Closer". I URGE everyone to stop walking the white line of conformity and venture off into a world of freedom and adventure. Because only once you're off the beaten track can you really discover who you actually are.

Dylan Moran's Reasoning Behind NOT Taking Photos On Holiday

With his stuttering, vaudevillian, on-stage delivery, Irish comedian Dylan Moran could initially be mistaken for a rambling drunk. Behind this persona however is an extremely sharp intellectual, and as I continue to delve into his catalogue of material he is fast becoming my favourite comic on the circut. The following extract, scribed from his live show 'Like, Totally', takes an alternative perspective on how to document your memories:

"Some people take pictures on phones.. .I don't know why people do that, it's very weird.... everybody does that now, we all take pictures! It's the same with holiday photos, you record something to look back on it... even though you're not really there when you're taking the picture because you are too busy recording it... so you're retrospectively going to look back on where you weren't... and tell yourself you had a good time. But that's what holiday photo's are. You go away and come back then show your friends: "look" "look" "it's us"........ "I know!" they reply. "I hope you enjoyed yourselves."

In my personal opinion, Moran has hit the nail on the head here. People spend so long trying to document their adventures in the most fantastic ways possible that deep down they never actually embrace and appreciate the moment they are experiencing. I've personally been guilty of this many times; most recently when visiting Machu Picchu. It was wet and overcast when we staggered off the Inca Trail towards the Wonder, only one thing running through our heads: Get that iconic photograph of Machu Picchu in all it's glory over our right shoulder. And we got it, but at an expense I have only really started to appreciate now.

As the temperature warms through the Peruvian morning, rises into the afternoon, the mist and clouds begin to lift. We however were there at 9am, with a bus to catch just before lunch. Visibility was minimal at best, and any chance of a clear photo looked to be shrinking by the minute. Our tour leader Marcelino gave a fantastic guided walk through the Incan ruins, explaining exactly what each carving meant and what each room would have been used for. I would love to share this information with you now, but, alas, I had unknowingly fallen foul of Moran's philosophical teachings. Writing this post six months down the line, Marcelino's words are simply a purple haze in my mind; a mind whose attention that day was focused directly on the sky above and the movements of the ominous cumulonimbus blanket floating through it. Yes I captured that proud moment, kilted up and draped in the Saltire flag, but would that day have been even more memorable had I stopped worrying about factors outside of my control and simply listened? I can safely answer Yes! It would have been.