Here you can browse through my blog posts prior to February 2022. Currently I'm sharing my travel experiences, candid opinions, and what's on my mind solely on my Facebook page. — Rick

What’s Going on with Kosovo?

Cameron Hewitt, co-author of my Croatia & Slovenia guidebook, has shared a tour guide’s insight that may complement what you’ve heard on the news about Kosovo’s new independence. Here it is:

You might have heard that Kosovo declared its independence from Serbia. Is this good news or bad news? It’s too early to tell.

If their independence takes hold, Kosovo will become the seventh country to emerge from the break-up of Yugoslavia. About nine out of every ten people in Kosovo are ethnically Albanian (and generally Muslim). Fewer than one in ten is Serb (a Slavic cousin of the Croats, Slovenes, and Bosniaks, and generally Orthodox Christian).

Why do the Serbs care what happens to Kosovo, with its tiny Serb population? It’s partly because they fear for the safety of the Serbs living in Kosovo, but it’s mostly because many of the important historic, cultural, and religious sites of the Serb people are in Kosovo. To put it into context, a Serb once told me, “Kosovo is the Mecca and the Medina of the Serb people.”

For most of the 20th century, Kosovo was considered part of Serbia, the largest constituent unit of Yugoslavia. But because Kosovo is such a political hot potato, the communist dictator Tito set it up as a semi-independent “autonomous province” within Serbia. That compromise didn’t last long.

The Yugoslav wars of the 1990s actually started in Kosovo in the 1980s, when the Albanians there began to push for more independence from Serbia. Serb strongman Slobodan Miloševic went to Kosovo to support the Serb minority, and made provocative statements implying Serb aggression toward Kosovo. This started a chain reaction that led to Serbia’s annexation of Kosovo, Slovenia and Croatia declaring independence from Yugoslavia, and a decade of fighting in the region.

After the Balkan Wars and the ethnic cleansing in Kosovo, it became a UN protectorate–still nominally part of Serbia, but for all practical purposes separate and self-governing (under the watchful eye of the UN).

The plan was always for Kosovo to eventually declare independence. But on Sunday, the provisional government unilaterally declared its independence without going through proper UN channels. (It had grown impatient that its UN bid for independence was being stalled by traditional Serb ally Russia.) So far, the Republic of Kosovo has been recognized by the US and most major European powers, but not officially endorsed by the UN. Key opponents include Russia, China, and Spain (which sees unsettling parallels between Kosovo and its own Basque region).

So, what now?

Pessimists fear that Kosovo’s declaration of independence will upset the delicate postwar balance of the Balkans; that militant Serbs will flock to Kosovo to fight to keep it as part of Serbia; and that it might even provoke the Serb half of Bosnia-Herzegovina to secede from the Bosniak/Croat half. Last summer a young Serb who lives in rural Bosnia-Herzegovina–well-educated, articulate, and Western-looking–told me, “Ninety percent of the people in this town have never been to Kosovo. But ninety percent of us will take up arms and fight to the death to defend it.” He acknowledged that he was one of those people. I shudder to think that he might be heading to Kosovo as we speak.

Optimists are holding their breath to see how the Serbs will fight Kosovo independence. The new Kosovo government has very carefully stated it will protect the rights of its minorities (read: Serbs), which is a good sign. (It was Croatia’s failure to respect its Serb population that partly sparked the war there.) And Serbia has said it will not take military action (but, then, much of the fighting of the 1990s was not “officially endorsed” by the government, either).

If Kosovo independence works, it will be the final chapter of a long and ugly Yugoslav succession, and everyone there can finally get on with their lives.

Stay tuned. And if you’re a religious person, now is the time to pray for peace in Kosovo.

Copenhagen TV Script Structure: Puzzle Done

On my last entry, I gave you the parts for my Copenhagen TV script puzzle. I enjoyed your comments and suggestions.

Someone asked why I’m re-doing a show we already did. I produced about 50 shows in the 1990s with a different production company. I’ve kept about a dozen of these in circulation, including an episode on Copenhagen with a side-trip to Ærø. Why update? Things have changed hugely in Denmark in the last 10 years, I like the way we make TV better now, the new generation of TV is high-definition and widescreen, and the original show rushed Copenhagen to include the lovely island of Ærø…plenty of reasons to bring out two shiny new shows on Denmark: one on Copenhagen only and the other on the Danish countryside (including Ærø).

Here’s the structure I decided on for the Copenhagen script. I’m flying to Rome today and over Hudson Bay I’ll be pounding on my laptop to come up with a Copenhagen script. I’ll post it in a couple of days. Skål!

Copenhagen TV script structure to be shot in July 2008:

Canal Tour – lively open cruising past glorious Copenhagen cityscape

City lay of the land, talk about moats and walls, expansion

Little Mermaid, Han Christian Andersen statue, obligatory mention, short

National Museum, for real history — sweep from Viking age

Town Hall Square, start town walk for city orientation

Introduce Christian, local guide who’ll be my side kick for half the show

Strøget, pedestrian boulevard, use as spine to cover Danish cultural insights

Smørrebrød, open-face sandwiches, have Christian demonstrate the ritual, fun eating

Rosenborg Castle, park with naked Danes sunbathing, tour palace which introduces Christian V the greatest king, see sumptuous crown jewels

Cathedral Neoclassical statuary, a bridge from castle to Thorvaldsen’s fine statues

Thorvaldsen Museum, Neoclassical statues

Nyhavn, Beer and pølse, fun with people on harbor, beer on the street culture and the “dead man’s finger” hotdogs with social commentary (lingo, employment scheme for disabled, etc.)

Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek art gallery (city’s best gallery, transition: paid for by beer money), fade to black (say goodbye to local guide, end of day)

Slick new Metro, new day, modern city, commerce

Free loaner bikes, pick one up to explore colorful Christianshavn

Christianshavn, quaint old Copenhagen

Pastry — the “Danish,” stop by beloved bakery in Christianshavn

Vor Frelsers church, climb striking spiral spire for view including Christiania

Christiania squatter community, with local guide, talk about the hippie ideals of this experimental community

Nazi Resistance museum, free spirit showed itself vs. Hitler too

Amalienborg, changing of guard, today treasures its freedom…no euro?

Tivoli, colorful amusement park, close with midnight fireworks

And then I say, “Thanks for joining us. I’m Rick Steves. Until next time…keep on travelin’.”

Finding a Structure for a Copenhagen TV Script

The task facing me this month is finishing up scripts for this year’s TV production. (I need to get on the ball to enable my producer Simon to work with the tourist boards to get permissions and dates set for all the visits.) We’ll shoot three shows in April and three shows in August. These will be combined with the shows we filmed last year to create our new 13-episode public television series, debuting this fall.

To write a script, I take the guidebook chapter, distill it down to only the material that would be good on TV, and then fiddle with the elements to try to come up with a good, balanced script: start lively, cover the big-picture context early, break heavy museum visits with light food and fun activities, determine when and where to work in local experts, cover the clichés but go deeper on elements of substance, avoid redundancy, and finish on a fun up note.

As I was working on establishing a structure for my Copenhagen script, it occurred to me that others might enjoy seeing the process…and even playing script-designer. So, here are the elements I think would make a good half-hour show on Copenhagen. If you’ve got nothing better to do, you can build your own show (and even submit your structure or suggestions on this blog). In three days or so, I’ll show you the structure I plan to use for our new Copenhagen show (and perhaps the rough script, if I can get that far). Here are the pieces:

The Little Mermaid
Town Hall Square
Nyhavn, the old sailors’ port
Amalienborg, changing of guard
Nazi Resistance museum
Christiania (squatter town)
Free loaner bikes
Rosenborg Castle and crown jewels
Hans Christian Andersen statue
Canal Tour
City lay of the land
Smørrebrød, open-face sandwiches
Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek art museum
Tivoli amusement park
Strøget, pedestrian main boulevard
Christianshavn
Beer and pølse, local hot dogs
Vor Frelser church
Slick new Metro
Cathedral with Neoclassical statuary
National Museum
Thorvaldsen Museum, Neoclassical statues
New “Black Diamond” library
B&B booking center
Pastry – the “Danish”

What Shapes Your Trip: Ads or Info?

I was at the Los Angeles Times Travel Show this weekend. I speak there every year. It’s my favorite…probably the best in the country. I found this year’s show particularly enjoyable.

Speaking in front of a thousand travelers, trying to project my voice above the Tahitian drums and the hula shows, I had the fun of making the point that the vast hall around us was filled not with information, but with advertising. At least, smart consumers should assume as much.

The show, packed with travelers who paid $10 each to get in, was a shrill festival of brochures and catalogs with mariachi happiness bouncing off the walls and expertly eye-catching women promoting their booths by prancing around like peacocks in heat.

One thing I complimented the show staff on was how the editors of the LA Times travel section rather than the paper’s advertising department put on the event, distinguishing it from many other big travel shows. Still, I was interviewed by a film crew after one of my talks and found they were not talking about travel…but making an ad to promote next year’s show.

The show reminded me how anyone sorting through information to help make travel decisions needs to understand how just about everything you encounter is promotional — pushing someone’s business interests.

I spend 120 days a year in Europe researching my guidebooks, and last year I kept thinking how a major part of my work is simply picking up promotional fliers and talking to people paid to promote. As a consumer advocate, I need to sift through everything and come up with what is truly worth the vacation time and money of my traveling readers. The pickings are often very slim.

In Europe — where tourism is a leading employer and source of foreign revenue — local tourist boards are pushing whatever has seen the big investment in the previous year. Whether I’m researching my guidebooks or making TV shows, local promoters of tourism are eager to slip on a dirndl, meet me at the airport, and steer me to what they want promoted. I get the feeling that most “travel journalists” are easy prey in this regard. Arriving in a new city, I often find a gift from the tourist board waiting on my hotel bed — a binder filled with advertisements. Sorting through it, there’s almost nothing worth keeping.

In Switzerland, the tourist board is particularly aggressive and strong. They support our TV production work generously with guides and hotels when we ask. It’s tricky to explain that rather than the new casino and the new chic restaurants, I find other slices of the culture more interesting to film: the riverside hike, the subsidized bike-rental program (that gives work to “hard-to-employ” locals), and the heroin-maintenance clinic (to show Americans a creative and pragmatic Swiss approach to drug policy).

Typical bus tour companies also struggle with their economic needs corrupting the product they offer. For instance, the standard whirlwind itinerary makes time in Amsterdam for diamond polishing, but not for Van Gogh. Why? It’s money. The awesome Van Gogh Museum costs $15 per person ($750 for a busload of 50 tourists), while the diamond-polishing exhibition is free for the tour company and offers 20 percent kickbacks on diamonds purchased. No wonder tour guides promote the notion, “If you haven’t bought a diamond in Amsterdam, you haven’t really experienced the city.”

One of my least favorite writing gigs is when the European Tourism Commission hires me to write an article about what’s new in Europe, and they require that each country in their group is worked into the article. That’s understandable, as Malta and Iceland pay just like France and Germany to be a part of this promotional agency. But it’s hard to write a good article when the driving force is treating all member nations equally rather than what’s new and of value to traveling readers.

The Web has become a primary source of information for many travelers. I love the Web as a tool, but it’s tough for consumers to know what’s real information and what’s slick promotional material. When assessing hotels, for instance, what looks like information is often a carefully crafted sales pitch. This is a major pitfall for naive travelers.

That’s why I believe, even in this Internet age, an ethically written guidebook remains the best source of information for the independent traveler. A good guidebook gives you hard opinions rather than paid ads. Actually, the contract my publisher and I have comes with a little clause (nicknamed for an author of a B&B guidebook who made lots of money charging for listings, and then showcasing them as guidebook entries rather than ads) prohibiting me from accepting any payment for any listing in my books…something I wouldn’t do anyway.

To sum up: Travelers — like any consumers — need to understand who paid for the information that’s trying to shape their decision-making, and why. Twelve million Americans travel in Europe every year. The bestselling guidebook to any European destination published in the USA (which, last year, was my Italy guidebook) didn’t even sell 100,000. There’s a lot of fish left to catch…and even this blog has a promotional agenda: to get every traveler to bite.

Let the traveler beware. (And happy travels!)

Lost in a Hindu Temple Dance

Jon wondered about my Balinese experience, so I dug this up.

This is the only thing I ever wrote with the help of a mushroom omelet. Back in the 1980s, I wouldn’t have admitted I had a hallucinogenic helper. It’s fun to share it now, exactly how I wrote it — exuberantly over-the-top — as a twentysomething travel writer.

Bali is great. And an evening super-sensitized in that tropical Hindu world is magical. Recalling just three hours in the village of Ubud, the “Balinese Florence,” I realized that some of the greatest moments in travel are yours when you become a mute poet. Just observe. Put yourself in a personal tiki hut, let your jaw hang loose, permanently awestruck, and open your eyes and ears so wide they touch.

I sat under my thatch writing by flickering light while the smoke from my quiet mosquito coil did a cobra dance. Here are some thoughts straight from my journal recalling just one evening on the road in Asia.

*****

Lanterns painted a rutted dirt road through the new darkness. Thin, unloved street dogs played with my shadow, which walked before me…as if leading me to the candlelit temple.

Batik smiles ushered me to a bamboo chair where I joined 30 people seething like barnacle tongues to the churning beat of a 20-piece gamelan orchestra.

A gamelan is a kind of xylophone, usually accompanied by a busy Balinese bamboo band of flutes, strings, and percussion instruments. To the casual tourist who gives it no more than an ear-glance, it is a jumble of jungle noise worth a photo and a few minutes, but nothing more. But if you look into the musicians’ eyes, you see they are dancing as one, high above that dirt floor, and making music in tongues that’s as pure as Mozart. Children hide attentively on the laps of the performers, and all are lost in the same musical beat.

The temple was a peacock of happy candles; its warm outline against a starry black backdrop empowered the music below.

Through the temple’s door danced a goddess-gowned girl. Just another sorry sight on the street, now her Krishna eyes dug deep into mine. She quivered like entranced butterfly wings. Then, suddenly, there were four dancers waving like sea leaves; their eyes, fingers, and the gamelan mallets are puppets from paradise tied to the same god’s strings.

They throb with the gong and flute, like fish Eskimo-kissing, intensifying to the speeding gamelan churning like a train in heaven. Orion reaches for the temple, and I find myself breathing heavily in this seductive tide pool.

Down the lane is a volleyball court, the local equivalent of “Chuck E. Cheese,” where 25 kids sit cross-legged in fake Levis under a TV on an eight-foot pole with a mini-thatch. “TV Jakarta” is beaming in an Indonesian Donny and Marie. “Marie” has big heart-shaped lips under jet-black hair, and “Donny,” every bit as dreamy, plays an organ with a rhythm box. The kids eat peanuts, clap after each song as if the performers were actually in their midst, and wonder why I’m sitting with them.

Ten o’clock is late in this town. As I wander home past huts with well-combed bangs and sleeping dogs, I enjoy smiles and eye contact with the few locals who are still out. Couples sit on rails enjoying cheap talk, genuinely focusing on the present as all that matters.

Back home in my simple, dimly lit bathroom, a 10-inch lizard startles me. Then I’m literally driven out of the place by a ferocious three-inch beetle. I fall asleep wondering what creatures will crawl over me in tonight’s darkness. Dogs are barking Morse code for miles around, and soon the roosters will tell me the sun has risen and another day has begun.

*****

This kind of experience can be yours. Find a culture like India’s or Bali’s where if a drop of menstrual blood touches a man’s head, he’s sterile, and a child’s first toenail cutting is a sacred and magical ritual.