Backpackers sometimes get a bad rap. We’re considered lazy, dirty bed bug riddled floozies that fill up all the seats on the chicken bus with our backpacks, float between tourist slums so we can drink cheap beer and tick off another place on our itineraries. We’re called cheapskates; spending as little money as possible to delay having to go back to the real world and do real things, like getting a job.

And it’s sort of true.

Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. But just because the majority of us portray some of the characteristics listed above, it doesn’t mean we’re all like that, all of the time.

Ahem.

It’s a very broad generalisation, but what I’ve noticed is that as well as that ‘backpacker group’ I’ve listed above,  there’s a few subgroups – the Hippies, the Lads, the Bogans and the Wankers –  so I’m going to jump right on the typecasting bandwagon and share some of my observations on these groups that I’ve come across during my travels. Allow me to put on my judging cap, strap yourself in and try a few of these pigeon-holes on for size;

The Lads (and ladettes)

Cashed up Brits are forces to be reckoned with. Generally found in SE Asia they’ve exchanged their pounds

Lads. Nature's idiots.

for about a gazillion Baht and are living like kings; Eating and drinking their way around town, though you’ll find them at the pubs more often than at the street markets. Often acting like drunk raging lunatics anytime after midday (which is about the time they wake up) you’ll rarely find the lad on the tour bus, but once you’re at the pub you can’t swing a cat sideways without hitting one. -they’re no doubt at the bar trying to pick up anything with boobs. Like a moth to a flame they all migrate to Ko Pha Ngan for the full moon party once a month, which means it’s a great time to see, well, any other place.

Likes: Alcohol buckets, pub curries and cheap cigarettes

Dislikes: Most other things – notorious whingers.

The Aussie Bogan

Southern Cross Tattoo? You my friend, are a Bogan.

Thailand and Bali are both incredibly cheap to get to from Australia, which means that even those on the dole can afford it, and the Aussie Bogans are out in force. Wearing wife-beaters (singlets) and sporting a mullet, these bogans are often found in the beach side pubs with the British lads, drinking cheap beer and watching the cricket. Bogans do like to get a bit of ‘culcha’ so there is the chance you’ll get stuck next to them on the mini bus to the Tiger Temple. Be prepared for some ear piercing Aussie vernacular when ‘Nicko’ yells at ‘Cheryl’ to ‘look after the fucking kids’, because ‘they’re given me the shits!’

Likes: Tribal Tattoos, Tiger Beer, a liberal approach to personal hygiene.

Dislikes: Immigrants, Hippies, New Zealanders, Bok Choy.

The Hippies

Old saying: A hippy a day... will give you syphilis.

You can spot them a mile away. Reggae Dub blaring from the speakers at the Rasta bar, mango shake in hand, The Hippies can be found lounging around all day on fancy triangle cushions discussing the who has the biggest dreadlocks and the differences between normal and organic chickpeas. Harmless more than anything, though you should be prepared  for enough glaring to make you want to crawl under a rock and cry, bucket loads of indignation and the faint odour of Roquefort – The Hippies feet (not unlike the rest of their bodies) are somewhat unaccustomed to warm water and soap.

Likes: Tofu, cheap dorms and armpit hair

Dislikes: Things that are not Tofu, cheap dorms or armpit hair

The Insular American

On my recent trip overseas I asked as all the Americans I crossed paths with if they knew the name of the Australian, Canadian, New Zealand or British Prime Ministers. Not one person got any of them right. Insular Americans tend not to know much about anything that doesn’t happen within their own borders. You could blame the education system, their mind numbingly stoopid TV (Survivor, anyone?) or the perhaps misguided perception that USA really is ‘Number 1’. It’s probably a combination of all. It’s sometimes frustrating sure, but don’t blame them too much, they are after all a product of their environment. Just smile, bite your tongue and have a bit of a chuckle about how much more worldly you are… which is an excellent segue to…

The Stuck-up Backpacker Wanker

Travel Wanker? we'll find out in 15 years or so.

They sleep on potato sacks in a horse stable instead of forking out for a dorm bed. Dinner is a bowl of cold rice.  They don’t fly, take the train, the bus or the boat, instead they hitch lifts on the back of  donkey drawn carts or float on a hand made bamboo raft dkown the Mekong. They can’t wait for you to finish talking so they can role their eyes and chastise you for being a ‘tourist’ and not a ‘traveller’. They’ve always done everything cheaper, harder, longer and immersed themselves further into anything you’ve ever done. Ever.

And they give me the shits. Easiest way to avoid them? –  Forget South America or South East Asia, go to Europe instead.

Likes: Hating other backpackers, not spending any money, taking the hardest, longest possible route as they believe it gives them ‘travel cred’.

Dislikes: Other people. Unless they can wrangle those other people into buying them dinner.

I see bits of myself in about three of those groups.

Notable mentions include The Lonely Planet Army, The Tight-Arse Angry Israeli’s, The Contiki Clubber’s and The Spoilt Princess/Daddy’s Credit Card Troupe.

* One final note regarding Insular Backpackers – it’s not just the American’s. I once had a conversation with a British girl who was quite surprised to hear that Australia had a queen. Imagine how her mind exploded when I explained that it was in fact the very same Queen that she had in the UK, and that the Canadians share her with us too.

Have you noticed how many travel blog sites are out there? Heaps is a gross understatement. On Twitter alone I must follow at least 150 really interesting and informative travel blog writers. I’m always on the look out for new blog to follow - it’s such a joy to find a hidden gem full of interesting facts and travelogues on cities I want to visit or compare trip notes with.

That’s why I’m glad I stumbled across travelblogsites.com. I’ve been following this website for a little while now. They rank the webs best travel blogs on a weekly basis, and profiles the best ones daily. It’s sort of like a one stop shop for quality, independant travel writing. It’s run by the guys from travelpod (which in my humble opinion houses some of the worlds best travel journals… you can read mine here) and I’ve been fortunate enough to now have sanchezjalapeno.com join the TravelBlogSites community which I’m very excited about.

The site is a great resource while to while away a few hours, or get inspired by some really creative travel writing. Check it out or follow TravelPod on twitter

Follow Shane on Twitter , read his guest posts at havepack.com or catch up on his travels here.

“Welcome to Sarajevo. My name is Kovacs and I will be your adopted Papa. I reek of charisma, you know.”

- He wasn’t kidding. More charming than anyone I’ve met before, Kovacs introduced himself to us while we were exploring the Baščaršija – the Turkish quarter of Sarajevo, following our noses around alleyways into pastry shops selling Burek and tiny cafes brewing Bosnian coffee. I was in love with Sarajevo and had been devising business plans in my head, ready to write to my mother telling her I wasn’t coming home, when I was brought back to planet earth by the sight of this tiny man, waving at us and dancing in the street.

We spent 10 minutes (or was it 20?) standing in the middle of the street talking to this interesting man about his life (born in Turkey, lived around the world and had been working in Sarajevo as a waiter for 3 years), the languages he can speak (10, thanks for asking) and would his boss mind if he snuck off for a beer? (“Fuck the boss, lets drink”).

Kovacs led us through the maze of the Baščaršija, past men in workshops belting metal into shape, women chatting in the drizzling rain outside of silk shops and teenagers sipping coffee on tiny stools in hole-in-the-wall coffee shops, until we arrived at the ‘Balkan café’ – a funky bar/live music venue that later that night would be hosting an evening of jazz meets Sevda (local Bosnian music – a bit Soviet, a bit Middle Eastern, very cool). We sat down and ordered some beers. Kovacs explained how he understood his religion “Mine is heart. We’re all people, so just love with your heart”. He then belted out a few acapella versions of some blues songs – he’s a singer and guitarist – much to the dismay of the über cool crown that came to hear the jazz band upstairs. He promised to serenade us if we came to his restaurant the following night. We sipped šljivovica (local brandy) from the mini flask around his neck – a gift from a travelling Scottish lady who though he was hilarious (modest, he is not).

Kovacs was prone to going off on a tangent, which made it hard to follow what he was talking about; I gave up the notion of taking notes. Instead, we drank beer and laughed. Soon after he ran off to work hoping to get back there before his boss noticed he was gone, and we stayed at the Balkan café and chatted with the owner- he introduced himself to us when he noticed we were admiring the cool artwork on the wall. The café had only been open for a month, but it was packed with alternative 20 something’s sporting wild, unkempt hair and dressed in black turtleneck tops.

All we need is šljivovica

We watched the first band take the stage in the upstairs smoke filled room, they played a mix of songs, some big band hits from the 20’s and 30’s mixed and then some slow jazz versions of more popular songs like Radiohead’s Creep. Before I realised it was after midnight so we retired to the hotel, there was a lot of sight seeing to do the next day.

Some beautiful Mosque’s can be found in the Baščaršija. I sat in a café adjacent the biggest Mosque in Bosnia, and listened to the call to prayer, which was just as breathtaking as the ones, I’ve heard in Turkey and Malaysia. Sarajevo is a melting pot of religions; there are Mosques, churches and synagogues around every corner. I spent the remainder of that day walking around the city, with a stray but happy dog following me around. That night we went to see Covaks at the restaurant, where true to his word, he serenaded us while we sipped red wine and ate trout and grilled veggies drowned in olive oil. A midnight drink at the Balkan Café followed, the crown danced and couples kissed in the dark corners and I wished I could stay longer. All good things come to an end I guess, but I hope that’s not true. I’ll be back soon to find out.

The story of Alvaro Perez and the

cats and dogs of Progresso, Mexico

After a swim in the sea I walked back to my hotel in the lovely town of Progreso, Mexico, and the sun beat down mercilessly. I turned down a quiet street and passed a small shop with a man and a boy playing dominos, I stopped by to have a look at what he was selling. With that small decision I ended up having a wonderfully interesting afternoon chatting to possibly the sweetest person I’ve ever met. It reminded me why I loved travelling so much.

Alvaro was a local to Progreso but had been in the USA for the last 23 years, he recently brought his youngest son back with him to Mexico to live. Now back in Progreso Alvaro had started a travel and tour company, was a real estate consultant, and also had the shop we were sitting in where I was buying a few gifts for friends. I felt a little lazy after hearing all this! As we spoke more, it was his work for a particular group which caught my attention. Alvaro calls himself a ‘vigilante’ working for an organization dedicated to stray animals. The group was called the ‘Proteccion de Perros y Gatos’.

Mexico, like many other countries, has a multitude of unregistered dogs and cats that wander the streets, eat garbage, dodge cars and get ‘friendly’ with one another. The scenes of unwanted puppies or dead dogs by the side of the road is constant in many countries – one thing that always bothered me when travelling, making me wish I could adopt them all and take them home with me.. Here was a man whose love for animals had led him to become part of a group fixing these issues in his home town. I was inspired and wanted to know more.

Progreso is not far from the state capital of Merida and a few hours from Cancun. Though small it is quite popular with locals and tourists, and one of its claims to fame is having the longest industrial pier in the world. It fades off into the distance as you look out to sea and is quite a sight.

While Merida, like other big cities in Mexico, already has a large registered organization set up to capture, house, de-sex and control the animal populations, smaller places like Progreso do not have anything. Peoples mentality to animals differs from say, Australia, where you can be fined for not cleaning up after your dog – let alone have unregistered animals wondering around. Currently the local municipal government for Progreso are in charge and they pick up strays, but often just drop them away from town, which doesn’t solve much.

Alvaro told me that his organization aims to convince the local government, as well as individual pet owners, to take more responsibility for cats and dogs.

The group is formally constructed with a president, vice-president, treasurer and secretary, some of them Mexicans like Alvaro and others American and Canadian that call Progreso home. When cruise ships dock at the pier they ask for donations from tourists and as the group saves more and more money they are preparing to get the organization up and running.

Alvaro Perez

The organization plans to open a building in town dedicated to housing stray animals, and to get veterinary students to donate their time and skills to de-sex or provide any medical attention needed for sick animals. These services would also be open to the general public and their pets, hopefully for free. Their group are always in touch with the Merida organisation and this communication is mutually benifical when it comes to gathering data and swapping ideas.

The more I spoke to Alvaro the more passionate he became and I wished I wasn’t just stopping by for a few days before moving on.

What the group also want to do is educate the public, have mandatory registration for animals, and have laws passed to fine people for lost animals or ones not de-sexed. As it stands the government does not want any new legislation as they say the people are too poor to deal with fines.

Currently the group need to get permits, more donations and more willing people to take part. Public market appearances and raffles are planned for the future to attain more exposure.

As the afternoon heat refused to go away, I bought a bookmark and bracelet from Alvaros shop, donated some money for the dogs and cats cause, and we chatted some more. It was sad to leave as I had made a lovely friend, learnt a lot and become thoroughly inspired. It only strengthened my love of Mexico and I resolved to return soon and find out how he was going with all his ventures, particularly the dogs and cats. An unsuspecting Sunday had turned into one of the favourite highlights of my adventures and it gave me a spring in my step as I thought about the next place I was to go and who I’d meet there.

Alvaro and the group are out to make a difference, it is free to join them and they need more help.

If you are travelling through that side of Mexico, stop by Progreso – it has great seafood and a street fiesta every Sunday. Get in touch with Alvaro for some tours, he has a wealth of knowledge and will inspire you. He may even give you a honey sweet as a treat. (I can’t get enough of them now).

Alternatively if you cannot make it there but are interested in giving their organization more exposure or donating in any way, the contact details are:

Proteccion de Perros y Gatos a.c.

Jose Alvaro Perez, vigilante

Cel: 999 994 8525

Apartado Postal No. 30, 97320 Progreso, Yucatin, MEXICO

For information regarding Alvaro’s tour company and real estate venture you can email him or call using the number listed above.

About the Author

Milli Vukovic is a freelance photographer currently in Croatia, but is just as likely to be in Morocco this time next  week. Backpacking around the world in search of the weird and wonderful, Milli is always on the look out for a the perfect shot, an amazing beach and the worlds best laksa. You can follow Milli on twitter or read her travel blog.

Milli@sanchezjalapeno.com

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