Travel. It’s different every time because you go somewhere different. But what about going somewhere familiar differently? Lonely Planet’s new book Experimental Travel is a collection of experiments (set up in the traditional ‘method, equipment, results’ fashion we all remember from high school) that turn traditional modes of travel on their heads. It’s tricky to explain and mind-bending to read, but seems perfect for the frustrated traveller who hasn’t the time or the money to get out of town, but still wants the travel experience. In the tradition of scientific open-mindedness, AB&P grabbed a couple of mates and went experimental travelling …
Travel. It’s different every time because you go somewhere different. But what about going somewhere familiar differently? Lonely Planet’s new book Experimental Travel is a collection of experiments (set up in the traditional ‘method, equipment, results’ fashion we all remember from high school) that turn traditional modes of travel on their heads. It’s tricky to explain and mind-bending to read, but seems perfect for the frustrated traveller who hasn’t the time or the money to get out of town, but still wants the travel experience. In the tradition of scientific open-mindedness, AB&P grabbed a couple of mates and went experimental travelling …
Experiment 1
We kicked off with Expedition to K2—no crampons or ice picks required because in this expedition to K2, you open your street directory and go to K2 on the grid reference. Once there, your mission is to thoroughly check out the area to discover its cultural, aesthetic and gastronomic delights.
There were two choices on the spread our directory opened to. In the first K2, the major feature of the grid appeared to be a hospital, in the second, a train station. A vote was taken and it was determined that a hospital was potentially more interesting than a train station, so off we went. On arrival, we discovered that the hospital took up so much of the space that there was very little besides it to explore. Wandering the surrounding streets, it quickly became apparent that even without going in to the hospital, this was a very hospital-themed grid square. Every second building appeared to be a medical practice of one form or another.
Cultural delights discovered, we went in search of aesthetic. AB&P suspects that a three-month, inch-by-inch search would have failed to turn up any aesthetic delights in this K2. Carparks and well-lit signage are not generally considered especially aesthetically pleasing. We did, however, note that a few gardens had lovely rose bushes.
And finally, on to gastronomic. Having not ventured in to the hospital (where AB&P is sure dried-out cheese sandwiches abounded) we found that gastronomic delights were even harder to find in K2 on a Sunday afternoon than aesthetic ones. The closest we came was a fridge full of soft drinks looked at thirstily through the windows of a closed shop.
All in all, an interesting way to spend an hour on a sunny Sunday. It’s always good to find a bit of the city that you haven’t been to before and now AB&P knows the quickest route to the closest hospital—surely that’s useful information?
Experiment 2
Next up was Taking a Line for a Walk. In this experiment you take a map of anywhere you like, impose a drawing over the top (a shape, your name, a random squiggle, whatever) and then follow that line instead of the lines on the map underneath your drawing. Sounds easy. It wasn’t.
You’ve never realised how much you take the logic of a map for granted until you deliberately impose something illogical over the top. In our case, a wonky star shape over the main shopping areas of Melbourne’s CBD (see picture). Short of developing the sort of superpowers that make walking through solid walls possible, this turned out to be a tricky task.
To begin with, our starting point turned out to be somewhere in the foyer of an office complex that was locked up for the weekend. From there, Melbourne’s many laneways and pedestrian-accessible alleys meant that it was reasonably straightforward to follow ‘our’ route and not too much ‘cheating’ (ie, following the real map, rather than the random one), was required. When we found ourselves wandering around a multistorey carpark off Bourke St looking for an un-alarmed emergency exit, things started to get interesting. You’ve never felt so out of place as when you’re wandering around on foot in a building designed for people in cars!
Trying to cut through Melbourne’s department stores at an angle was made easier by being able to go up and down different levels in order to maintain an approximately accurate direction. Until we got ourselves into another multi-storey carpark and then into the rabbit warren of staff tunnels behind Melbourne Central. Interminable staircases, bare concrete walls and floors, locked doors, surveillance cameras and the niggling feeling that any second security was going to appear and manhandle us outside made this an unpleasant part of the experience. Making it back to the safety of the streets (slightly further north than expected) and a meander down through the lanes of Chinatown was a relief.
Two more carpark adventures would feature in the rest of our trip, a brief spin around the shiny chrome-filled foyer of the Hyatt, a passing wave to the grand edifice of the Town Hall and back to peer wistfully in the direction of the inaccessible foyer where it all began. A definite must for anyone who enjoys the challenge of imposing the irrational on the rational and has a carpark fetish!
This article from Australian Bookseller & Publisher magazine is reproduced by kind permission of Thorpe-Bowker, a division of R R Bowker LLC. © Copyright 2005, Thorpe-Bowker