Tim Leffel is more than just Perceptive Travel’s fearless leader — he’s also a fearless cyclist, particularly when said cycling involves stops for wine and beer. Also he’s written a book called Travel Writing 2.0. And he does many other things of a writerly nature.

In the July issue of Perceptive Travel, Tim chronicles his journey on Missouri’s Katy Trail in  Two Wheels, Two Drinks: Biking Through America’s Heartland. Not that long ago — if you measure time on a cosmic scale, August qualifies –  I had a chat with Tim about his piece and how he does his writing thing. I was not even a little bit influenced by the fact that he owns this site, as my unconscionable delay in running this interview clearly indicates. In fact, since then, he’s had another fine piece in the webzine, Sidesaddle Girls at a Mexican Rodeo.

Two Riders (Neither Tim) Having a Beer Along the Trail, at Augusta Brewery

Alison Stein Wellner: So I really did like this piece, but I have to admit I often get bored when I’m reading stories about a long cycling/rafting/hiking trek. Were you conscious of reader boredom as you were writing this?

Tim Leffel: I get bored of those stories too — unless you’re an avid enthusiast, if you’re writing about a hike, a ride, a rafting trip, it’s important to just skip the irrelevant stuff, and include enough details to give the reader a general impression of what it feels like. And that’s the nice thing about doing something like this –  when you’re out there for multiple days on end, there’s lots of quiet reflective time, where there’s not anything going on. So you can just focus on what’s interesting about the experience.

ASW: Why did you decide to write about the Katy Trail?

TL: I had met somebody at one of these meet-ups, a place where tourism people meet with travel writers and talk about ideas. I didn’t know [the Katy Trail] existed.

For some reason, I’ve always been drawn to stories like this — I like a real journey that happens at human speed. I can feel it, and smell it. I notice more things about a place when I travel through it in this way. The next thing I want to do that’s like this is a kayaking trip from Central Florida to the Gulf of Mexico.

ASW: Was the Katy Trail what you’d expected it would be?

TL: I did know that was there were wineries along the trail, and I expected it to be mellow — not a lot of sipping and swirling and wine snobbery. But this is a conservative part of the country, so I was expecting it to be more sedate than it was. And then there were those brewpubs and breweries — some of them were really amazingly good, and that just surprised me in the land of Budweiser. The ride itself, and the towns along the way — it was a lot more fun than I expected. Of course, as a travel writer there have been times I’ve been on the reverse side of that expectation!

ASW: One of my favorite parts of the story is when you meet fellow cyclist Charlene.  And that made me wonder, how did you take notes when you were busy cycling? It’s hard enough for me to take notes while I’m walking without bumping into things.

“Charlene is riding the whole 225–mile trail, but she’s not your typical spandex–covered road biker with something to prove. Puffing on a cigarette when I pull up beside her, she’s alternating between biking and walking. We chat for a while about where she’s been camping along the way, and the lowdown she’s gotten from one campground owner about which towns to avoid for overnight stays. “I’m not worried about somebody stealing my cart of stuff though,” she says. “I’ve got a loaded pistol in case I run into any trouble.” This seems like a good cue to return to my solitary journey, so I bid her goodbye and she’s soon a dot in the distance behind me.” – From Two Wheels, Two Drinks: Biking Through America’s Heartland.

TL: I pedaled up about a mile in front of her, and then I stopped and wrote it down, Paul Theroux style. In general, I didn’t take a lot of notes along the way — just phrases and impressions here and there. Maybe that’s laziness or maybe it’s convenience. Digital cameras do make things much easier, I can just take a picture of a sign and move on instead of copying down what the sign says.  I generally write down notes when I’m having dinner or at the end of the day — I think about what’s made an impression.

ASW: And I have to ask about notebooks — what’s your pleasure there?

TL: I’m not much of a notebook snob, I use the cheap spiral-bound ones that I’ve gotten for swag.  I have traveled with a Moleskine, but I don’t like them — they  don’t lie flat.

ASW: What kind of research did you generally do for a story before you leave home, and what did you do for this one?

TL: It depends. Next week, I’m going to Chile, and I’m not reading anything, not doing anything, I’m just showing up and seeing what happens. I like doing that when I’m going to city. But for this [Katy Trail] trip I did do research, since there were a lot of logistics involved — I needed a place to sleep each night,  I needed to know where the wineries were along the way.  In this case, there was a great Katy Trail website that was super comprehensive, it told me everything that I needed to know.

ASW: What’s your writing process?

TL: I have certain tricks to avoid looking at a blank piece of paper, to take the path of least resistance: I wrote the factual stuff first, the history, the details about the trail, whatever I knew I could do quickly and get it out there — that was about a quarter of the article. Then I refer back to my notes. I don’t know if I have a clear voice, but I do have a good irony meter — if something makes me laugh know I’ve got to get it in the story, like the part about the corn cob pipe museum, for instance.

“Coasting into Hermann on a bicycle feels perfectly natural: everything is still on a human scale. In Washington, you can tour a museum that’s part of one of the old brick riverfront factories that has been around since the 1800s—Missouri Meerschaum. It’s “the world’s oldest and largest manufacturer of corn cob smoking pipes.” – From Two Wheels, Two Drinks: Biking Through America’s Heartland.

I wrote the story in bits and pieces, I didn’t write it in one sitting.  It was more of a mosaic process. I move things around a lot on the page. I’m pretty brutal about self-editing, I’ll chop [out] three or four paragraphs if they just don’t add to the piece — even if it’s interesting word play. If I cut something and I think I can use it later for something else, I’ll keep it. Although I do think if it’s that’s good, I’ll remember it again.

ASW: And where do you write?

TL: I have a wife and a daughter, and that has a really impacted my writing habits. I do most of my work in my office — it’s quiet in there. I’m like a newspaper or nonfiction writer, I get up every day and log on and do my thing, and then it’s eight hours and I’m done.

ASW: Okay, I have to ask: since you edit the publication you’re writing for, who edits you?

TL: It depends on how tight the deadline is. Sometimes I send it to a writer friend, but usually my wife reads it — she’s a personal trainer actually, but she’s got a good eye — she spots technical problems, tells me that I’ve used the same word three times in the same graf, things like like that. But since I’ve been the editor of this publication five years in January, I’ve developed a pretty good sense about what works and doesn’t. I’ll let some things slide from other people that I wouldn’t tolerate in my own piece. There are good points and bad points about that.

ASW: Any advice for travel writers?

TL: When I was researching my book, the same advice kept coming through. Be a professional, read the guidelines, read what’s in the publication and make sure that what you’re proposing matches. Do what you say you’re going to do. It’s amazing how many don’t do it, but it’s so easy to leap above the crowd by being a professional.

ASW: And how about advice for finding unique ideas to write about?

TL: I think that’s a hard thing to advise people on, since you almost have to have a sixth sense. The important thing is to keep looking for something that surprises you — then you can find a unique angle, but you’ve got to have your eyes open and senses open and look for something out of the ordinary.

A couple of years ago I interviewed Tim Leffel for Write to Travel’s ‘interview with a travel writer’ series. Even then, it was clear that he saw the writing on the ‘digital’ wall for freelance writers.

In response to the question ‘What do you see as the future for travel writers in the printed media and online ?’, Tim replied…

The future looks fantastic if you’re riding the right waves. Writers who whine and moan about where things are headed remind me of buggy whip makers complaining about the automobile. I actually had a veteran travel writer tell me last week that she has never written anything for the Internet and doesn’t understand it. That blows my mind. What is she going to do 5 years from now–retire?

We’re in a transition phase right now where pay for Web articles is nowhere near what magazines pay, but the glory days of print are clearly fading behind us in the rear-view mirror. Newspaper travel sections have dwindled to almost nothing and it’s getting increasingly tough for travel magazines to thrive.

The Web is not yet generating the same kind of ad revenue for corporations that print does, but if you own what you produce, that’s actually an advantage we individual experts can exploit. I know a few travel writers who are pulling in six figures without sending out a single query letter or doing any revisions per article for a flighty editor in New York. They write about what they love for their own site and their passion makes them money.

One person can create a mini-empire relatively easy these days if he or she is patient and persistent. It’s a different mindset though, obviously. You have to be more creative and multi-functional rather than just stringing sentences together to meet an assignment.

His new book, Travel Writing 2.0, based on his own experience and that of over 50 other mainly online  travel writers,  follows through with these thoughts, offering clear advice and, if you read carefully, a fully mapped out path on how, as travel writing transitions between traditional and digital media, travel writers can create diverse income streams.

Early reviews of Travel Writer 2.0 by Tim Leffel is indicating that this is a must read book and resource for travel writers, new and experienced, who are interested in making real money from their writing in the digital age.

Tim has also created a companion Travel Writer 2.0 blog site that features interviews with successful travel writers.

Travel Writing 2.0 is available in print or PDF e-book form (Kindle and iBook versions are due out later in the year) directly from the publisher and also at various online bookstores including Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.

And thanks to Tim, one lucky Perceptive Travel reader has the chance to win a free copy. All you have to do is leave a comment, telling  us about your thoughts on the future of travel writing. And next Wednesday (October 6th), a winner will be chosen randomly to receive an PDF e-book copy of Travel Writer 2.0.

There’s no shortage of books and articles around on the art of travel writing, focusing on the traditional old school methods of publication, requiring constant query letters and creating relationships with newspaper and magazine editors.

But in this digital age, when there are so many different ways in which travel writers can develop their careers and build up their portfolio and their income, these books just don’t make the grade.

New and experienced travel writers need a more definitive up-to-date travel writing guide – one that focuses less on query letters and more on how to use new technologies to develop a multi pronged approach to travel writing.

Now, thanks to veteran travel writer Tim Leffel, there is such a book.

Called Travel Writing 2.0: Earning money from your travels in the new media landscape, this book looks at the pros and cons of these new technologies and discusses everything from why you should blog to writing for webzines, from owner content to writing for online networks, from carving out a niche and developing a platform to how compensation comes in many forms plus  how to develop multiple streams of income.

Tim points out that these new technologies have changed the way that many successful travel writers are earning incomes. By adapting to the new technologies of the digital age, they have been able to chart their own course and maintain ownership of their content while developing a platform that marks them as experts in their field.

But they have only succeeded through hard work, determination, discipline, and a willingness to learn and adapt to the new technologies.

Highlighting the thoughts and the road to success of dozens (52 to be exact) successful travel writers who write predominantly online, Travel Writing 2.0 is a gold mine of information, a modern day guidebook for those interested in the business and marketing side of travel writing, with chapters on niche development, self promotion, and online income streams.

A definite must read for both new and experienced travel writers interested in developing and expanding their online presence.

But don’t just take my word for it.

Here’s what a few other reviewers have said about Travel Writing 2.0…

 “…unflinching look at the market and what you have to do to carve out your place… This book is solid, honest, and a much needed insight on a difficult career choice. You think you want to be a travel writer, do you? You should read this book.” – Nerd’s Eye View

“Travel Writing 2.0 is most useful for the seasoned freelancer in its breakdown of potential travel writing markets and advice from other writers onto how to break into the world of travel writing.” – Freelance-zone.com

“This is the first guide to earning money from travel writing in a media landscape turned upside down. With stories and advice from dozens of working travel writers, editors, and publishers, Travel Writing 2.0 leads readers on a path to success straddling print and electronic media.” – Travel, Writing, and Photography

(Disclaimer:  While Tim Leffel, author of Travel Writing 2.0, might be the editor of Perceptive Travel blog, he had no editorial input into this review. A complimentary review copy, however,  was provided by the author)

Darrin DuFord started his traveling life when he co-founded the band Motor Betty. He’s since become a travel writer, and although his curiosities lead him in many different directions, he often finds a way to work music into his travels. That’s what happened in his latest Perceptive Travel story,  A Dialog of Echoes in Uruguay.

He’s the author of Is There a Hole in the Boat? Tales of Travel Without a Car in Panama, and a contributor to Transitions Abroad, GoNOMAD, Perceptive Travel, Travel Channel’s World Hum, and McSweeney’s, among others. He lives in Queens.

Alison Stein Wellner: What made you decide to go to Uruguay?

Darrin DuFord: I planned to go to Uruguay to research their native meats — like nutria, which is a rodent.  When I was getting ready to go, I kept noticing references to candombe, a style of drumming in Uruguay. My old passion for drumming took over, and I thought, I’m first going to write about that. So I kept researching candombe, and put the nutria idea on hold.  I hooked up with a candombe teache there, and arranged a lesson.

ASW: What sort of research did you do?

DD: I ordered some music CDS from some artists from Uruguay,  and I read some of the liner notes — that helped out. I also went back and forth with my drum teacher on email.

ASW: How did you handle note-taking?  You’ve got such great details in this story, but you’re also holding a drum a lot of the time, which seem like it would make it hard to hold a notebook!

DD: It’s a process I keep on honing every time I travel.  I have small notepad with me, I don’t bring a laptop — I’m old school analogue, so I’ve got my pen and paper,  but it’s dark outside on the street, so I’m just getting lost in the sensory experience. Once I get back to the hotel, I write it all down.

“I followed the sounds of the drums ricocheting off the houses. The walls seemed alive, responding to the drums in perfect time. As a percussionist, I caught a naughty thrill hearing the irresistibly sweet—and often forbidden—marriage of drums and street acoustics. That was when I noticed Pocitos—this residential neighborhood—was noticeably well kept. I thought of David Byrne’s ruminations in his Bicycle Diaries  concerning the usual correlation between a neighborhood’s affordability and its tolerance for eccentricity. I wished he could have joined us, bike and all.” – From A Dialog of Echoes in Uruguay.

ASW: No laptop, wow.

DD: I often get criticized about not bringing a laptop with me — but I’ve never brought laptop with me, I’m afraid of getting it lost or stolen or some stupid thing. With a notepad, it’s just a stupid crappy notepad. I do prefer Moleskines. I also like hotel pens, although usually when I travel I stay at places not fancy enough to give you a pen in the room. So I “borrow” a pen from reception — a permanent loan. I also bring at least three or four pens from home, but I say it’s always nice to have a fresh pen waiting for you. At reception.

ASW [who would never criticize]: And you also take photos, do you consider that research too?

DD: Yes, in fact it’s faster to take a photo than it is to write something down. Some of my photos are not meant for Flickr, they’re ugly. I take them to save an image, so that when I look at them again, I jog my memory. I do that when it would take too long to whip out notebook.

ASW: So how did you decide on the shape of the story? I really liked how you drew a connection between the drumming and the street murals, the cars left to rust.

DD: That’s something that slowly grew as I was walking through the city. When I was there, I kept asking myself these questions — how can this city not only permit all this drumming in the streets, but why do they encourage it? Here in New York City, if you did that, the cops would come by and shut you up. So I wondered: why is this possible?  To get that answer, it took more than just watching the drummers, I thought, let’s see what’s going on in the culture of the city, what do they value? I took in the old cars, the murals — which say a lot about the artistic slant of the residents. It was a big picture way of explaining to me why they value street drumming.  Anyway, that was the only way that I could tell it –  to dig deep into the ethos of the city.

“Next morning: still coughing up essence of burning bourgeois chair leg. Someone was painting a mural on the façade of an art foundation across my hotel. I had already started a collection of mural photos from previous walks in Montevideo—Batman with a bare, protruding gut; Jesus in tighty–whities; fish with opposable thumbs. The streets were speaking. I kept listening.

I wondered what statement the rusty Studebakers and Morrises along the curb were making. Despite contributing to the city’s sooty air, the cars must have been tickling a particular aesthetic fancy. Some were junked, and were somehow entitled to parking spots as their final resting places, where they oxidized in peace: a charming respect for the elderly. It was as if removing them would be an act of vandalism.” – From A Dialog of Echoes in Uruguay.

ASW: How did you go about writing your story after you finished research?

DD: I only had a few notes in my trusty paper notepad, and once I came back,  I turned those notes into sentences on my computer. This was the first story I wrote after I typed up my notes from the whole trip.

ASW: You type up your notes as soon as you get home? That makes me feel really guilty. I know I should do that, but I never do.

DD: Yes, I type them up. I’m afraid I might lose the notebook.And when you have to type your notes, it does jog your memory  — it is a good exercise for recalling what happened.

[Pause while ASW realizes she quite agrees with this, and considers changing her ways -- but then remembers she is Conducting an Interview; this is not about her, really -- and gets back to it.]

ASW: Okay, so you type up your notes, and then what?

DD: I look at my notes and I look at my pictures, with a little help from space music which puts me in the mode.

ASW: Space music?

DD: Yeah, like Tangerine Dream, Steve Roach. It’s good for putting your mind into the thought mode.

ASW: And where do you write?

DD: Usually at my desk, although sometimes I sit on the floor, sometimes I kneel, and  sometimes I stand, so my body will stay happy with me. I’m always in front of a desk or a computer. I have a regular desktop PC, and I have a MacBook. Right now I’m sitting on the floor cross-legged sitting next to a coffee table.

ASW: I was wondering where you were on computers, since there is maybe a slight anti-technology theme? As you said, you don’t carry a laptop, and in the piece you do make a comment about iPhones: “Many Americans, for example, have become “accustomed” to their families and friends hunching over iPhones at the dinner table.”

DD: I wouldn’t call myself anti-technology, because it has a place. If I didn’t have a computer, it would have taken me a long time to type out my piece on an old fashioned typewriter. It’s a tool to get things done faster, it’s why I’m on Twitter and Facebook. But for some people, it just seems to take over their life. It was funny thing, I saw comedian doing an act when the iPad came out, and he said, people were given a choice — to get an iPad or a life. And they all chose an iPad. That’s kind of my philosophy on technology. It seems to be destroying the natural social environment for family and friends.

ASW: So I’ve got to know if you ever got back to the nutria story.

DD: Yes, I had time to research the meats as well. I’m getting to that story now, in fact.

ASW: Any advice for travel writers?

DD: As far as narrative travel writing goes, it’s a matter of honing one’s story telling skills. I would say, I usually get inspired when I read my favorite authors, whether its nonfiction or fiction.  David Byrne’s book the Bicycle Diaries — I mentioned that in the story, in fact, that was the book that I read right when I came back. That certainly cast a new light on travel writing, he’s a musician and he’s writing a travelogue book — that helped me see travel writing in a new way. Other travel writers that I like are  Rolf Potts, Bill Bryson, the Travelers’ Tales “Best of” books. For fiction, it’s anyone from Nabakov to Jonathan Lethem.

Richard Arghiris has one of those stories that will make adventurous small children want to be travel writers when they grow up.  Born in the UK, he recently packed up shop in London and has relocated to Central America to write (and also to relax, although he sounds pretty busy to me). He’s written for newspapers like the Independent and the Observer, and he’s also co-author of a number of Footprint guides, to Mexico and Nicaragua, among others.

He was updating his Nicaragua book when I contacted him to chat about his remarkable Perceptive Travel story, A Requiem for Bluefields, Nicaragua, so we talked via email.

Alison Stein Wellner: I typically start out by asking how a writer came across their story, and what made him/her decide to write it. It seems clear since you’re writing a guidebook and now live in Nicaragua that you’re doing extensive in-country research. What made this particular story about Bluefields stand out as one you wanted to tell? Was there one particular encounter, or was it something that gradually crept on you over time?

Richard Arghiris: I spent over a month in Bluefields with my partner, Jennifer Kennedy, whilst we interviewed over a dozen people about Law 445, also known as the Demarcation Law. The idea was to self-publish a series of articles and videos about the political changes occurring on Nicaragua’s Caribbean Coast, specifically those affecting the land tenure and human rights of the region’s Indigenous and Afro-descendant peoples. By the time we’d finished travelling around and talking to people, I had several ideas for potential articles, one of which was a piece about Bluefields.

I have to admit, initially, I was not particularly keen on the city. But as time went on and I got to know it better, it started getting intriguing, in a dark sort of way. I quickly realised that Bluefields would make the subject of an interesting desintation piece, albeit a visceral and alternative one, that perhaps conveyed some of our research into the region’s political background too. It seemed an appropriate idea for Perceptive Travel.

ASW: I’m intrigued by what you’ve said about not being so keen on the place. I’ve found in my own writing that the places I’ve liked the least, personally, are the places I’ve been able to write about the most. (So in a perverse way, I enjoy being unhappy in a place.) Have you found this in your work before?

RA: Yes, I have often written about places I don’t like, as well as negative experiences, although I’m not sure why I focus on those things more than ‘nice’ stuff. Partly, I find it difficult to write convincingly about joyous or beautiful things. Partly, I think, it’s a matter of what’s compelling. Unpleasant places may be uncomfortable to visit, but from a writer’s perspective they’re rich in material.

Take the Mexican border-town of Ciudad Juarez, for example. Ciudad Juarez is the infamous murder capital of Mexico, epi-centre of an escalting drugs war and a squalid dump by most accounts. It draws the worst of all worlds and has very little to offer in the way of charm. Its a quintessential border-town. Ugly, threatening, dark. Now I’m not suggesting anyone should visit the place for pleasure, but if you’re looking for exciting material, somewhere ‘interesting’, somewhere challenging, then it’s going to be a rewarding destination on some perverse level. Ultimately, you can suffer a great amount of pain if you’re onto a good story.

“The port was delirious with activity. Beyond a warren of dank brick alleys where consumptive sailors sweat out their sins, gangs of inebriated fishermen shared cigarettes and bantered. A ripe aroma of rotten fruit, diesel, dead fish, and grease suffused the air. A procession of weathered vessels bobbed past concrete piers where laborers loaded and unloaded supplies. A confused volley of orders, enquiries and insults flew back and forth like a flock of deranged sea–gulls.” – From A Requiem for Bluefields.

ASW: Your story struck me as an “anti-travel piece”, in that the destination doesn’t seem incredibly appealing. This is its own genre, of course — I’m thinking of this Magic Mountain piece in Harper’s. As you approached the piece, was this something you worried about — were you ever tempted to “nice it up” some?

RA: In the interests of balance and variety, I tried to pepper it with other flavours, but not too much. Nothing is ever a single shade of misery. Fortunately, Perceptive Travel is an open-minded and alternative outlet, so ultimately I didn’t need to worry too much about the audience feeling comfortable. The piece was not obliged to be ‘nice’.

Although I object slightly to the ‘anti-travel’ label, I get the point about ‘destination appeal’. There is an argument to be made that the real ‘anti-travel’ camp lies squarely in the mainstream. Travel journalism, on the whole, averts its gaze from the realities of the world. In fact, for the sake of sales, it positively denies them. It’s a sad truth that the genre is now little more than glorified advertising for the tourism industry. It has more in common with copy-writing than journalism, and historically, this was not always the case. Once upon a time, travel journalists reported realities, rather than sold destinations. Third world poverty is ‘not nice’, but it is a reality, and a very visible reality for anyone who travels in any one of the world’s impoverished nations. Why aren’t travel journalists reporting it more? The answer is obvious and two-fold. Editors don’t want to publish it. People don’t want to read it. That’s fine, but I can’t pretend the situation is very nice when I can see very well that it’s not.

ASW: I take your point, and quite agree that it’s a shame that the typical travel writer’s lens is often narrow and distorted. But building on this, do you also feel that travelers (not just writers) should go and see these places for themselves? There’s an argument to be made in favor of that, but then you do get into some of the voyeuristic
concerns of  so-called “dark tourism” — I’m thinking now particularly of the controversies surrounding slum tours in Mumbai, the favela tours in Rio.

RA: I don’t think it’s necessary for travellers to actively seek out dark and dangerous places (unless they feel particularly inclined), but when confronted with a difficult or disturbing scene, they should not look the other way. That is, they should not censor uncomfortable realities. Full awareness of the good, the bad and the ugly is what’s needed if we’re to understand anything. Ignoring life’s shadow side is about as clever as a full frontal lobotomy.

All that said, I think that most travellers are out to expand their awareness anyway. Otherwise, why travel?

I did not know people were running slum tours, but it doesn’t surprise me. Whether or not these are a good thing probably depends on the conduct of the operator. There’s no reason why slum tours can’t be ethical, enlightening and helpful to the communities that participate. It doesn’t have to be tasteless and voyeuristic.

The main thing, I think, is to emphasise the human aspect, rather than the photo opportunity. There’s nothing negative or controversial about rural community tourism, for example, which involves immersion in impoverished and underprivileged farming communities. People often come away from such tours with a new-found gratitude and humility. Some even report powerful life-changing experiences. Why can’t slum tours be positive too? After all, poverty is not a crime.

“Wherever I went, there was a palpable sense of loss—not of material riches, but of culture. Since the 1990s, an ever–advancing migratory tide has been eroding the coast’s fragile ethnic fabric. The ancient Rama language, now spoken by a mere handful of elders, is close to total extinction. The Creoles, once Bluefields’ most populous group, are now marginalised and impoverished.”Them mestizos is taking over our land.” An angry community leader, Merryl Campbell, had informed me one morning in a smoky cafe. “If we not careful, sometime soon, Bluefields ain’t gonna be called Bluefields no more. It gonna have some Spanish name, name after some Spanish hero, their hero. You know what is Bluefields?” He said defiantly. “Cotten Tree, Beholden, Old Bank, Pointeen—That’s Bluefields!” – From A Requiem for Bluefields

ASW: Are you able to discuss what other articles or projects may come from your Bluefields research?

RA: I’ve now blogged a few pieces about the Caribbean Coast, including some interviews with people who are either technically or politically involved in the demarcation process. It might all be a bit specific for a general audience, but perhaps useful for anyone who has an interest in indigenous rights. Beyond that, everything’s speculative, although I’ve been trying to get more travel pieces placed with websites and printed publications.

(To see some of the blogged articles, log onto Interamericana and scroll through the features in the banner. Some other Caribbean Coast pieces are also listed underneath it.)

ASW: When and where did you actually write the piece? Did you start to write it when you were in Bluefields? And where, physically, do you write generally?

RA: I wrote this piece sitting at a table in my house in Leon, northwestern Nicaragua. I usually share the house with 8-10 other people, so my work-space doubles up as a dining space. I’m basically nomadic, so I set up my work desk wherever I can. I would like to have a dedicated office but for that I would need a dedicated home somewhere. This is not likely any time soon as I am moving south to Panama soon, and then, afterwards, who knows where. Thank god for laptops.