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I was encouraged to take part in an AmA (Ask me Anything) session on Reddit to answer questions about my occasional manic travelling – having visited 198 countries as the youngest hobby traveller. I answered a fair amount of questions via email, twitter and here, but why not also go for one of the famous Q&A sessions there too? Feel free to add your questions on Reddit: I am Gunnar Garfors, I just finished visiting all the world’s 198 countries as the youngest hobby traveller. Ask me anything.

The fat lady sings. They think it’s all over. It is now. I just visited Cape Verde, country number 198. Shit! Now what? I will never get to experience that adrenalin kick of entering a new country again. Ever. Then again, Scotland will vote for independence in 2014. So there is hope. I have of course been to Scotland, but as a part of the UK. Should the Scottish decide to separate from the English, Northern Irish and Welsh, Scotland will be a new country and must be visited. New Scotland. The leftovers of the UK must too. Where I went to uni. Two new potential countries, in other words. But if that happens the Great will leave the Kingdom. I think they should stay, despite my expected adrenalin withdrawal symptoms. I’ll leave that for later. I will first celebrate completing what has been referred to as an interesting form of madness. In Sal, an island of Cape Verde. Yes, the African island nation south of the Canary Islands. Two brothers, a sister and ten friends have decided to come along. Quite voluntarily. Except for the few little things I promised to tell their loved ones if they let me down. In love and travel everything is allowed. Thomas is a friend who flew in from Spain two days before the rest of us just to make sure that he could find the best restaurant in town. Selfish? Well, he’ll of course join in the celebration dinner on Saturday as well, but still a great thing to do. Ronald just finished ten days of biking in Albania, Montenegro and surrounding areas, stopped at home in Holland for a couple of days before hitting the travel circuit again. Jørn is the Alzheimer’s alibi of the trip, approaching his mid 50s. And Charlotte, my Belgian friend, who showed true impulsiveness by deciding to join the ususal suspects at the drop of a hat. Throw inn the last person to join, Frode, who I only travelled with to North Korea. He sure is up for unusual destinations. I like! Not to forget Andreas who will fly in Friday night for the party the following day. That was the earliest he could make it due to work. Well, someone has to do it. I also have to mention two friends of my brother’s, Trond Ole and Torgeir. I barely know them. But they get an excuse to travel, I get an excuse to make new friends. Win-win. I will of course not stop to travel. Travelling is like a virus. An incurable one. I may have been to all the countries, but I have of course not been in every village or city, on every island and mountain top. Travelling makes me relax. Please don’t invent a cure.

Afghanistan is the 10th least visited country in the world. Go figure. Then again, I always thought it would be even less visited. Not because of its beauty, cold mountains and fantastic scenery, but because of regular bombings, terrorist attacks and being the home turf of Taliban. War zone tourism never really did catch on. I travelled there in 2009 with two friends. Eventually. Getting visas wasn’t the easiest of tasks. The friendly people in the Afghan embassy in Oslo made it very clear that tourists were not welcome. Full stop. We could in other words only get in as journalists or military personell. The most dangerous weapons I’ve had my lethal hands on were a 5 milimeter home-made slingshot, a Zulu bow and arrow and my dad’s sledge hammer. The army option to get in was in other words quickly ruled out. Luckily I am originally a journalist. And an owner of a legitimate press card. So is Marius Arnesen, one of the two fearless friends that tagged along. Asbjørn Havnen, the third traveller in war, is not. He is a big guy, is the occasional sparring partner of the Hulk and drinks any man, woman or beast under the table. The latter has given him a nickname. Dr. Vodka. His physical strength and drinking abilities still don’t make him a soldier, so he ended up posing as our fixer to be able to get in with a press visa. He should have known better. Signing up as the fixer of two spoiled journalists would give him more of an headache than a couple of bottles of Ukrainian vodka. He sure had to work for his fixer title. – Asbjørn, can you fix me a beer? Marius soon picked up on the art of frequent nagging our newly appointed fixer. – Yes, and don’t forget to fix-shine my shoes, fix-iron my war shirt and fix-taste that my food hasn’t been poisoned. Admittedly, I was probably far worse than Marius. Entering Afghanistan The three of us flew in to Mashad in Iran. Entering via an airport enabled us to get a visa on arrival. A single entry one. Take note, travelling overland into Iran does not give you the same privilege. No visas are issued at land based border posts. On the plane to Iran, we met an friendly Afghan guy. He was heading our way, to Herat in northern Afghanistan. We shared a car there. Our visas to Afghanistan were safely stamped inside our passports, but we didn’t have visas to get back to Iran where we would meet my brother five days later before continuing to Turkmenistan. The fact that we might end up being stuck in Afghanistan without a visa out of there freaked Marius out. Sort of. Sort of, as in totally, utterly, completely. And then some. I have never seen a man closer to a fit. Surprisingly enough. Marius is among the most adventurous of guys. He eats extreme sports equipment for breakfast. He kites on snow, ice and water. He downs a cocktail a minute, still managing to down a shot of whatever is on hand in between every one of them. He will contageously laugh you under the table. If his laughter doesn’t make you smile or crack up, please cut down on the botox. But he is not too keen on being stuck in a war-ridden country without the possibility of getting out of there. He first refused to join us across the border but soon realised he’d possibly miss out on the holiday of a lifetime. After some convincing about how easy it would be to get another visa at the Iranian consulate in Herat, he reluctantly joined us into unknown territory. Would he ever forgive us for inhuman amounts of peer pressure from Asbjørn and myself? I think he did. Afghanistan is a photographers paradise. Marius is a photographer. He shot hundreds. We met Maroof and his brother outside Herat, after having crossed the border. The the two locals asked if we needed a ride. They even agreed to drive us around for our entire stay, and we soon realized that they took personal pride in our safety. Much appreciated, although that task must have taken its toll with us exploring various neighbourhoods as if there would be no tomorrow. They showed us various hotels, but we ended up in the only semi-civilized hotel in town. They even had decent Wi-Fi. And good security. Of course, if you are a terrorist, that would be the hotel to blow up. The best and “safest” hotel in town usually is the main target, as we have seen too many times. We still felt safe despite the odd gunshot at night. After all, most of the other guests were hired guns. Or looked like ones. Because in Afghanistan you don’t ask other foreigners what they are doing there. It’s a rule, we found out. Most of them are there on shade business, or so it seems. Their heavy armoured cars in the hotel parking lot didn’t do anything to disguise that impression. What to do in Herat The third biggest city of Afghanistan has tales to tell. It dates back to ancient times, and feels in part like an old museum. The Herat Citadel is well worth a visit, so is the Friday Mosque of Herat, one of the oldest in the country. We were even given old tiles from the mosque as souvenirs from one of the guys restoring the mosque. He showed us around and told us about their massive work load. They have to make sure that all the millions of tiles look as they did originally. A never ending task, I imagine. Herat also used to have many minarets, but most of them have fallen thanks to the unstable foundations of the ancient city. A lot of heavy traffic on the circle road around it certainly hasn’t helped either, but at least the Fifth Minaret is still standing. It gives you a chance to see such a historic structure in relatively good shape. There are also mountains outside town, but we were given polite suggestions of not going there. Kidnappings had recently occured. We listened. Especially Marius. We didn’t go. And of course, the market. Amazing fruit, traditional carpets, cooking utensils, leather shoes, ornaments and burqas. One particular burqa shop, exhibiting nothing but blue burqas, somehow caught our attention. Both Marius and Asbjørn are bigger than me. They both had girlfriends at the time. Both girlfriends were allegedly my size. For some kinky reason or another they wanted to buy burqas as presents to their girlfriends. Do not ask why. Needless to say, I had to try them on. I have ever since struggled with mental images of what the burqas I wore have since been used for. And as a bonus, a photograph Marius took of me with the burqa on has since appeared on the front page of a French newspaper with the photo caption “Close up of Afghan woman. Photo: Marius Arnesen.” Thanks, mate! At least I am honest about my whereabouts. After having travelled a lot, my family has more or less given up on me. They can’t any longer be bothered if I am visiting some place of war, terror or crime. “He will be fine,” they think. Or hope. And this is an arrangement to mutual benefit. If they were to worry every time I travelled to such places they’d have monthly heart attacks. Asbjørn and Marius have both travelled a lot too. They still didn’t feel comfortable telling their families that they were actually in Afghanistan. Which meant that we were “officially” still in Iran, the country we were hoping we would be able to get back into. They even spoke to their loved ones at home, carefully mumbling the answer of where they were, so that it sounded like “Iran…ish.” Hypocrites! Getting back out To enter Afghanistan from Iran was not a problem. Getting a visa to reenter Iran turned out to be a major obstavle. Maroof drove us to the consulate the first morning in town. There was a queue of 36 men with beards. Standing next to the wall of the consulate. At the end of the queue, towards the corner of the wall, there was a small window. The first guy in line had bent down and was negotiating with the consulate staff inside. We were in a hurry to get back out to Iran, where we were to meet my brother four days later. I first entered the queue in a very British manner. At the far back, nodding and smiling politely to everyone. Many of them smiled back. After 15 minutes without moving an inch, I realised the British way wasn’t working for us. I decided to queue, Norwegian style. Rude, ignorant and with active elbows. It worked. I was bending down to the little window in a matter of minutes. The smiles of my local queue colleagues had disappeared. – I’m sorry, but this is an emergency. We really need a visa to get back into Iran. My brother is there. It is urgent. – How soon do you need the visa, sir. – Tomorrow. Or in maximum two days. – I am sorry, sir. That is impossible. It will take at least a week. – A week? I shouted. I could literally feel Marius panicking a few meters from me. The dialogue continued, and I used the words emergency, disaster and urgent a lot. In the end I got three forms to fill out. – I really want to help you, sir. Come back when you have completed them, please. I will see what I can do. We quickly filled out the forms, and I jumped the queue again. Even fewer smiles this time around. A fair amount of the next three days was spent nearby Herat’s Iranian consulate. They needed two photographs and a copy of the application form (photographers and copy shops were conveniently located across the street – no discounts were offered). Theconsulate staff wanted to know about our parents’ religious backgrounds. I then had money in cash, but the consulate demanded that it was deposited into it’s bank account. Which could only be done through a specific bank in town. They later demanded proof of payment. And a negative HIV test. We had to find a clinic to have our HIV tests taken. I will from now on carry a negative HIV test in my pocket for such future instances. The hygiene level of the clinic seemed to be good, and the needles used for the blood tests look reasonably clean. – If we don’t currently have HIV, I am sure that we’ll get it here, Asbjørn joked. Neither Marius nor I laughed. Interrogation time I was soon a hated man in the Iranian visa seeking community of Herat. Rarely have one queue member pissed off so many others. Finally, I still received some good news. – We have what we need. Please come to the entrance door. Wow, a breakthrough! No more back-busting-tiny-window-in-a-wall correspondence. Marius looked particularly happy. I knocked and stated our names and nationality when asked to do so. A porter let us in to a waiting room. There were 9 people already there. It turned out to be interrogation time. On an individual basis. No chance to make sure our stories matched. I was first up. I was taken into a big room. There was a desk. Some big man was seated behind it. I tried to shake his hand, but he wasn’t having it. He even knew what he was doing or had seen too many shady Russian cop shows. He pointed at a little chair by the opposite wall and touched his well-trimmed moustache. – What are you doing in Afghanistan? He asked calmly. We had entered on a journalist visa, but I somehow didn’t think that was the right time to reveal that particular technicality. – We are here as tourists to see the beautiful city of Herat and the scenic surrounding areas. We have heard so much about it. Great place! He hit his fist on the desk. – What ARE you doing in Afghanistann?? There are no tourists in Afghanistan! He clearly wasn’t finished despite his two long seconds of silence. – Are you a spy? I decided this was not the time for bad jokes, but I stuck to my story and explained that we wanted to explore for ourselves this country we only heard awful things about in western media. As tourists. He probably didn’t believed a second of it. Then again, he had two others to interrogate. I still stayed there for another 20 minutes, telling about other trips, and that we had already travelled a lot to a number of unusual destinations. Marius was next up. He was there for a little shorter. I used the time to coordinate with Asbjørn. I said that it might be a good idea to tell the guy that we were really tourists and that we had already travelled together to Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Belarus and other famous tourist destinations. As proof of our genuine interest in the road less travelled. – And you think that will make us look like anything but spies? Asbjørn questioned my cunning plan of synchronized stories before he was called in. Having returned from his 15 minutes of Iranian consulate fame, Marius told me that he had received some of the same questions as me and that he too had reassured the Iranian that we were only tourists. Asbjørn was back five minutes later. With a big smile. – He shook my hand and just laughed. Are you really here as tourists, he asked me? Before shaking his hand and calling us you crazy, crazy guys! Just one more wait later, and we had our passports in hand. With the precious Iranian visa in it. Marius looked 10 years younger. Time to relax With our return sorted, we had time to properly act as tourists in Herat. We had seen the citadel and the mosque between consulate action earlier, and we decided it was finally time to get postcards. But where do you get postcards in a country without tourists? We found gold in the fourth shop, a book shop. The three first shop owners didn’t even know what postcards were. But here, a few cards were hidden under layers of dust and some ancient looking books. Clearly not their main means of income, even for the sole postcard supplier in town. Good stuff, but of course the friendly shop owner didn’t have stamps. – Try the post office, he suggested. A groundbreaking idea. Maroof drove us there. We walked across the big courtyard and into a building. We found a counter in a dark room in the back. No one there spoke English. We showed the postcards, and asked for stamps. Our requests were returned by headshaking. Maroof started translating. He told us that we couldn’t send anything without an envelope. – But they are postcards. They don’t need envelopes. They are designed to be envelope independent, I tried to explain. Maroof did the same to the postal workers. Ten minutes later they had reluctantly agreed to sell us stamps. The postcards arrived safe and unharmed in Europe six weeks later. You know you are in a tourism deprived country when even the concept of postcards is unfamiliar. And that is in Afghanistan. It was one of the most modern countries in the world in the 1970s. Thanks, Taliban! Good job. May the war end soon and democracy return. A realistic possibility? Probably not, but the people there deserves it. Future travellers also deserve it, in my opinion. Afghanistan is a truly fantastic country. I will be back. Soon, I hope. And Marius? He has been back to Afghanistan half a dozen times. Well protected by the Norwegian army while filming news reporters and making award winning television documentaries about the Norwegian operations there. On his next visits he had his return visas sorted out in advance. I don’t blame him.

The North West Coast of Norway. It’s not the first place that comes to mind when the topic is surfing. Maybe it should be. Hoddevik is a tiny village (find it on Google maps and on Visit Norway’s map with much more detail) on Stadlandet, a peninsula which marks the spot where the Norwegian coast turns eastwards. It is one of the places in Norway, and therefore the world, where you have “the most weather.” Waves, storms, sun, hurricanes, sleet, breeze, rain, snow, hail, very fresh air and wind. And rapid changes between all of the above. All of it in a little valley between beautiful but steep mountains that you can easily hike to the top of, thanks to the occasionally used path up the hillside. The mountains aren’t only there for decoration or the occasional hike. They provide shelter and make the beach surfable even during extreme weather. With a couple of exceptions. When even the most hardcore surfers let surf be surf and rather stay inside to play dice games or take each other’s money in high stake poker games, expect the odd storm watcher. And join them at it, just bring an oversized zoom lens. As a buffer between the land and the furious ocean, there is a beach with the fine and soft white sand you would normally expect to find in Samoa, Marshall Islands or Kiribati. What the hell is it doing here? It either got lost or just wanted a little more excitement than is to be expected in the Pacific Ocean. Because excitement you will experience. Some surfers from around the world Just don’t expect much mobile coverage unless you climb one of the mountains or go to the top floor of Stad Surfing, a surf camp in an old traditional wooden house built in a style often seen on the Norwegian countryside. It has been modernized and is now the place to stay in Hoddevik. There is a modern kitchen and common room in the basement and a well-stocked surf shop and bed rooms on the main floors. The owner, Mr. Torkild Strandvik, has run the place for many years after he moved from Greater Oslo to live his dream, to be a full-time surfer on one of the most unique surf spots in the world. What it looks like? Why not check out Torkild’s photo of the day. He takes one every day, weather dependant. To stay there won’t cost the world either, between 250 and 300 NOK, depending on the length of your stay. Surf classes are offered and equipment can be purchased or hired.

The bombs in Boston shocked us all. More than anyone else, it shocked the people in Boston, especially those near the finish line or those who knew someone they feared were near the explosions. So, what happened? Everybody wanted to get information or get in touch with loved ones. At the same time. The result, as James Cridland recently wrote about in a very important blog post, was that mobile networks and some Wi-Fi spots went down. Too many people were trying to get through, essentially overloading them and causing a collapse. It furthermore didn’t take long until the authorities ordered the mobile networks switched off as they feared that more bombs would be detonated remotely. Let us recap. 1. Too many people tried to use the mobile networks. As a consequence they stopped working. 2. Mobile networks were allegedly shut down by the government and would not start working again even when less people tried using them. This has later been denied. 3. People were left with broadcasting, primarily radio, as the only means of information. Old-fashioned? “Good old radio” was there to save the day. But haven’t we long heard that broadcasting is bad, old-fashioned and long past its due date? And that the internet will take over, because it is very flexible and opens up for two way communication, as opposed to the one-way dinosour of broadcasting. “In fact, everything will be distributed via the internet in the future! We just needs to make it a little faster.” Or so, they claim. Because who wants to watch or listen to something at the same time as everyone else when you can choose and personally decide when to consume your content of choice? In Boston, everybody. Everyone affected and everyone interested wanted the available information as soon as it was available, at the same time. Those with broadcasting receivers (in this case, primarily FM radios) got their much sought after info. Those without such receivers got nothing. A smartphone without a connection is as dumb as your high school calculator. Broadcasting is a means of distributing information through a separate one-way network. Being a one-way only network has long been held against it, but turns out to be another neglected strength. Why? 1. Information is broadcasted through a separate network, unaffected of the internet. 2. Such a network can handle an infinite number of simultaneous users. 3. You will as a broadcaster know your costs, no matter how many people who consume your content. In case of internet distribution there is a costs per user, so a huge success in terms of viewers or listeners can actually bankrupt you as you have to pay for every one of those. 4. It is a one-way distribution method which is virtually hack free. It will never be taken down by a (democratic) government, but on the contrary always be kept on-air. After all, it will in case of emergencies be the preferred means of getting information. Just as it is on any normal day. 5. Broadcasting can still be combined with the internet to enable two-way communication, but via a separate channel. A perfect invention I can only reinforce the words of Cridland; The future of radio and television delivery is not only IP, broadband and broadcasting work perfectly in combination and are there to complement each other. To fight for one technology over another is counterproductive, why not work together by demanding mobile phones that support both? Broadcasting obsolete? Absolutely not. Some inventions are incredible and do exactly what they were designed to do. Perfectly. The wheel is another example.

Did you hear about the 25 least visited countries in the world? I wrote a blogbost about them in January. I soon realized that would be the most read post I’d ever written. It was soon picked up on Twitter, Google+ and Facebook, receiving thousands of hits. Business Insider In March, Business Insider got in touch and asked if I would mind having the blog post published on their website too. The website compiles blogposts from many writers, usually on recent and relevant topics. It is the 412th most visited website in the world. I didn’t mind providing travel inspiration to even more people, hopefully contributing to them selecting slightly more excoiting travel destinations that Spain, the Bahamas and Paris. Not that there’s anything wrong with any of those places, except that they are crowded, pricey and very touristy. I guess that means there is something wrong with them. Nevertheless, you get what I am saying. I hate all inclusive holidays. Business Insider received almost half a million hits on the post and made the story ‘famous.’ Yahoo The 4th biggest website in the world, Yahoo, then picked up a story. In a slightly odd way. They picked up an article that The Christian Science Monitor had written about the blogpost, quoting me as a travel writer and linking to my blogpost. I don’t know how many hits the post got, but Yahoo featured it on their main page (yahoo.com) as one of the top stories for at least 24 hours. and it has now been among the top two stories in their travel section for 5 days. They also used the photo of ‘Doors to Hell’ in Turkmenistan. Their punch line of the piece was ‘Obscure? Yes. But that’s part of the charm.’ I like! Kottke Next out was Kottke, a webssite that finds interesting stories online, writes their own often funny version and links to the original one. Reddit Some readers also posted it on Reddit, where people went wild commenting on the piece. One of the people commenting had his nick as ‘pmtuvalu,’ leading some people to believe that the person who made that account is actually the prime minister of Tuvalu, a country in the list and one I recently visited. Thousands of comments were posted, including an invitation to the Prime Minister to do an AMA (ask me anything) on Reddit. That listing gave me thousands of hits. The comments on Reddit range from plain out stupid to brilliant. Here are a few examples: You just called the Prime Minister “dude”, dude. I wish I had this guy’s life. I’ve been to Liechtenstein! You can drive right in. [Response:] And 10 minutes later, drive right out the far side again. To be fair, some of them are itty bitty and very isolated. I can understand why they wouldn’t get visitors. [Response:] Yeah, it does all seem to be a mix of “wartorn shithole” and “in the middle of the pacific” I’m thinking Google should go to Nauru, do his Google Street View thingy, and give them Google Fiber and computers. I’ve always wondered why every time Bhutan is mentioned in a blogpost, there’s a big Nordic face taking up half the frame. In other languages Hungarian Index then came up with their own version, again linking in to my blog post. Hungarians seemed to love it and flooded my blog with hits. And more recently a Chinese version was posted by Sohu, one of the biggest website in the country, and a Vietnamese version by Zing. Russian Fergana News also posted their own version. They picked up the story from the Facebook page of Alternative Turkmenistan News which linked to my blog post. TV 2 The biggest Norwegian commercial television broadcaster, TV 2, tried to call me repeatedly. First when I was in Tuvalu, then when I was in Kiribati. Of course, Netcom/Telia Sonera which is my employer’s telecom operator, can’t be bothered to set up roaming agreements with any Pacific countries, so TV 2 couldn’t get through. What happened to being a service provider, Netcom? TV 2 finally got through, thanks to Twitter and Skype. They did a story on my travelling in general (having visited 197 of the 198 countries) and didn’t link in to the blog post. It still provided more Norwegian hits than usual. And then some Many other websites have also listed the post. Let me just mention a few such as Twisted Sifter, New Advent, Dominican News, Somali Land Press, Zagat, Independend Traveler, Democratic Underground, List Gazette, Toronto Star, Nubby Twiglet, eHotelier, 11 Points, Boston Herald and FARK. Do you know of more? Please add them in the comments below. In total, the story received almost a million hits from Business Insider and garfors.com alone. The others do not make statistics available, but I presume that Yahoo must have generated at least ten times that. Several million people have in any case read the blog post. But the question remains, how many will actually go to any of those countries as a result of it? No one knows, but it will be exciting to do a similar post with updated numbers in 2 years time to try to find out. And thank you very much all who have tipped others about the blog post and to all of you who got in touch with me with questions, comments or own travel stories! It was much appreicated to hear from you all. I will keep travelling and continue blogging about my trips to relatively unusual destinations. It is doubtful if any of the stories will be distributed as widely as the 25 least visited countries, but I you may still possible enoy future posts. And yes, I am writing a book about my travels. Whether in Norwegian, English or both remains to be seen. Do not hesitate to get in touch if you’re interested in publishing it.

The laughter heard in Kiribati is very frequent and very warm. The latter is not because of the equatorial temperatures. People here are just incredibly friendly, open minded and easy going. And they usually have good stories they are more than willing to share. If you don’t find them funny, their laughter bombs will more than compensate for your lack of humour. “Welcome to Tarawa. We don’t have much, but enjoy our warmth and hospitality.” The Twitter message from David Lambourne, a lawyer here, reached me before I managed to check in to my hotel. Lobby Wifi access is always welcome, especially in countries where your telecom operator from home cannot be bothered to arrange for roaming agreements. Shameful, Netcom / Telia Sonera! The message did naturally not lower my expectations much. Expectations that were already very high after the amazing hospitality I received the last few weeks in the five other Pacific countries I visited. So, just a little warning for you wannabe hermits out there. If you don’t want to meet new people, don’t come to Kiribati. They will make you feel at home through sharing stories, advice and anecdotes. Whether you want to or not. If you prefer feeling sorry for yourself, stay in your hotel room or go snorkelling. The water is pristine and extremelly clear. And there are a bunch of WWII wrecks to see around Tawara, the main island. The underwater world For even clearer water and more aquatic life, go to the outer islands. If diving is your passion, you will find yourself in eden, heaven and paradise all at once. Even the water temperature is on your side. There are not a lot of diving companies, though. Ocean Flower Underwater World Sight Seeing was the only one I found. Expect more to pop up if tourism increases. And the locals I spoke to claim it is already happening. That wouldn’t take much though, Kiribati is currently the fourth least visited country in the world. That in itself is an attraction to many, but it doesn’t really help if you don’t even know that the country exists. Had you heard about Kiribati before? Yes? How do you pronounce its name? I bet you a beer that you do it wrong. ‘Kiribati’ is not correct. Neither is ‘Keereebatee’ or anything similarly creative you might come up with through any over creative brainstorming session. Who needs S? The letter ‘s’ does not exist in Kiribati, but the sound ‘s’ does. So, to pronounce ‘s,’ you write ‘ti’ or ‘tu.’ ‘Kiribati’ is therefore pronounced ‘Kiribass.’ ‘T’ followed by any other letter than ‘i’ or ‘u’ is pronounced ‘t’ as normal. Piece of cake. – Of course, there is no ‘h’ either, Kaure told me. He is the only registered taxi driver in Kiribati. He sometomes carries individual passengers, but usually operates as a shared taxi. In that case, a trip will set you back between a few Australian cents and a couple of dollars, depending on the distance. – No ‘h?’ What do you do about hotels, I asked. – We don’t have any. We have guesthouses, a lodge, an inn, a couple of motels, a pension and some flats. Of course there is an ‘h’ in guesthouse, but why let a little detail ruin a good story. The question is why they have excluded certain characters? Legend here has it that Hirham Bingham Jr., the missionary who first came here, lost his typewriter in the ocean. When he eventually got it back up, the ‘s’ was missing. The nearest typewriter repair shop was back in England, so he had to think outside the typewriter box. It sounds like a urban legend story, but I heard it from locals. They wouldn’t bet their house on its accuracy, but it made for a good laugh. Another one. Are you sinking, too? – In western media, we always hear that Kiribati is one of the first countries to disappear due to global warming and increased ocean levels. How do you feel about that? I asked two locals in The Captains Bar, the bar with the best location in Betio (pronounced Besio), the biggest town in the country. – That is bullshit! We aren’t sinking. Far from it. Nothing has changed here the last 50 to 100 years, it is not going to either. The answer of the guys was clear. Very clear. They went on to explain that some of the country’s politicians use what they call a myth as a way of getting world publicity and ultimately money. Which can’t be all bad. The infrastructure in Kiribati can do with some improvements. Just remember the cry wolf story, Kiribati. If you really start ‘sinking’ one day, no one will believe you. Highway from hell The road between the airport and Betio is appalling. The distance is less than 30 kilometers, but it will take a good hour to cover the distance thanks to uncountable potholes. The road also goes through every village, so drivers must be considerate. Of course, there isn’t much space for alternative routes. Kiribati is huge compared to Tuvalu, but still tiny with its 811 square kilometers. The entire road will be totally redone over the next year or two, something that ought to tie the country better together and open up for more effective business opprtunities and tourism. The locals are very much looking forward to this, judging by how much it is discussed. Then again, who can blame them. They have been promised the new road for years, but work is apparently finally about to start in April. Or May. This year. Allegedly. Accommodation There are plenty of options for accommodation, especially on Tawara. The government’s tourism site gives a good overview, and you can even check availability, comapre prices and book from there. Utirerei Guesthouse is the preferred bed choice for most NGOs, although there are several good options. Betio Lodge is for instance expanding by building 12 new brand new flats and a swimming pool. Expect to pay between 60 and 90 Australian dollars per night in most ‘otels.’ Nightlife Midtown, Seamen’s and The Captain’s Bar are on top of the list, although do visit Gateway if you’re up for the cheapest beer in town. Just be aware of the state of the joint, though. Do not expect beer mats, clean glasses or much talk that is printable in any semi-civilized form. You’ll fit right in if you are among those adding litter to discussion forums across the internet. Kiribati is a safe place to visit, just be careful if walking home at night. Street lights are not yet in fashion here. Then again, you can always call Kaure. On ATAXI (28294). Phone numbers here are only 5 digits. Why complicate things in a country with just over 100,000 inhabitants? Flying in There are two possibilities to fly in to Kiribati. Air Pacific (soon to be renamed to Fiji Airways) has flights from Nadi every Monday and Thursday. Do note that they leave Nadi at 05:00. Just don’t blame the receptionist for giving you a poor room after you’ve shown your grumpiest, most sleep deprived face, upon check-in. Your option is Our Airline of Nauru which flies from Nauru to Kiribati and on to Majuro, Marshall Islands and back. It is cheaper, but supposedly less reliable (they only have one old 737) and it only visits Kiribati every other week. The good thing is that Our Airline provides the only link between the southern Pacific countries with the northern ones (Palau, Federated Sates of Micronesia and Marshall Islands), so you can visit all the countries in the Pacific without having to revisit Fiji between most countries. Just plan well. Kiribati is yet another place I have to revisit and spend more time in. Being one of very few tourists in paradise certainly makes you feel special. And even if the tourist number will increase when word gets around, there is plenty of space for many more than the 4,800 tourists that currently visit every year.

Saturday March 30 is a big day for rubber ducks world-wide! The annual ‘Great Hawaiian Rubber Duckie Race’ will take place in Honolulu for the 26th time, running. You or your duck not in Hawaii? Do not despair, you can put your money on as many ducks as you want. Online. And if your duck wins, or even crosses the finish line as one of the 50 first duckies, you are – as the owner – in for some special prices. They include Hawaiian holidays, Hawaiian duck tours (of course), a swim with dolphins and miniature Ipads. The race isn’t happening all on its own, it comes with other forms of entertainment, games and food as part of the ‘pre-race festivities.’ The many hundred ‘cute’ rubber ducks are dropped simultaneously into Ala Wai Canal in which they will fight the fierce but silent battle towards the finish line. And don’t be late, the race starts exactly at 13:16. It only costs $5 dollars per duck. Proceeds will benefit United Cerebral Palsy Association of Hawaii. Hesitate no more, adopt-a-duck today! Of course, as with any adoption, you will need to fill out an official adoption form. Aspiro TV, formerly known as Rubberduck Media Lab, should certainly put some marketing dollars here. You in, Espen? So should the rubber duck collectors, my colleagues at Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation (NRK). How many ducks have you entered into the race, Hege, Helge and Erik?

I could feel it even before the plane landed. This country is one of a kind. And again, when leaving the aircraft. I have never seen a smaller terminal building. It was raining, but we still had to queue outside for passport control. There simply wasn’t room enough for 25 people inside the building. Very few people visit Tuvalu, and there isn’t too much infrastructure to accommodate tourists either. To me, that is a good thing. I prefer places less travelled. People are more genuine, more welcoming, and everything seems more real than what is the case in ‘tourist hells’ around the world. The friendliness experienced in Tuvalu is second to none, I wasn’t even allowed to walk the 1,500 meters to my apartment if someone I knew passed on moped. They then stopped and insisted on driving me to the door. I will always remember what to me is the third last country to visit. Frequently changing weather I have now been exploring Tuvalu’s main island and capital Funafuti for the last two days. Yesterday it was raining. Big time. You know when you drive through heavy rain and your windshield wipers cannot keep up? I was jogging through extreme Pacific rain, and my eyelids were like windshield wipers at full speed. They still couldn’t keep up. I kept on jogging, but couldn’t see anything clearly. Very refreshing though! Today the sun is out. Although it will certainly rain for sure. The changes in weather are fast and furious. But with the sun from the blue sky, the Pacific stereotype is back. Except that it isn’t really. This is Tuvalu, the first country to ‘sink’ should ocean levels rise. Of course, the country will not sink. It will be flooded. But the legend of Atlantis is strong, and in common language sinking sounds scarier, more dramatic and maybe more real. People here are worried, and they have good reason to be. The same applies to neighbouring Marshall Islands and Kiribati. ‘We are sinking!’ In Marshall Islands earlier this month, I got talking to an old guy in a bar. He asked me where I was from. – Norway. – What? Nowhere? – Nor-way, I said. Slowly but loudly. He still looked puzzled. – It’s in Scandinavia. It’s in Europe. Northern Europe. He didn’t react instantly, but had a sip of his beer. Then he raised his voice. – We are sinking. We are sinking because of you! He lifted his finger and pointed at me. – Because of me? I looked around, securing exit options. – We are sinking because of pollution from Europe, he explained. The old guy was a little drunk, but there is no denying that such feelings are not unique. Countries here may sink, or flood, and it may very well be because of pollution primarily from Western countres. I will not enter the debate whether global warming is man made or not. I do dislike opportunists like Al Gore, taking credit for being the guy enlightening the rest of us about global warming. He may be right, partly right or wrong. He is still using his status as a former US vice president and presidential runner-up to make money. A lot of it. Without showing any genuinity, in my opinion. That still shouldn’t stop us from doing our part. Earth Hour like initiatives might just help the people of Tuvalu and other Pacific islands be able to stay in their homes on their islands. Scientists do on unbiased terms seem to be agreeing that ocean levels will actually rise, regardless of the cause. And that makes the old guy in the bar and a lot of people on Pacific islands nervous. Where will their new homes be? What to do The seriousness left aside, what is there to do here? The lagoon is great for swimming, snorkelling and diving, just bring your own gear. There is one sand beach of any size and loads of rock beaches, so that is always an option. The water temperature is always very pleasant, so is the clarity of the water. Do also try to hitch a boat ride to other smaller islands. Just ask around, someone will be able to help you. And go or bike to either side of the island. There is more to see to the north, past the harbour. Where the atoll is on its narrowest you will get the sound of waves in stereo. A fantastic experience for anyone slightly interested in sound. And those who just enjoy waves. There isn’t a huge amount going on in terms of nightlife, at your first look and unless you dare going beyond the obvious choices in the center; The bar of Filamona Guesthouse and the bar of Vaiaku Lagi, the only hotel of the island. But dare venture a little further into the unknown, and you have Matagi Gali towards the eastern end of the runway (photo below), Lucky Set nearby Filamona and Pier One by the main harbour three kilometers outside the town center. And of course, as in any country, getting in touch with locals and ending up in a real house party always invites for the very best and most real experiences. Foodwise, it was a little disappointing. Being in the middle of the Pacific, I would expect more fresh seafood, but that doesn’t seem to be among the favourite Tuvalese dishes. These people sure like their meat! Fish were available some places though, but less fresh than in Marshall Islands. Do however not miss out on the pancakes filled with fresh coconuts and fish, they were fantastic! You can get them in Snackbar, the cafe of the airport terminal building. Enter through the entrance towards the bank. Oh, the bank. You’ve got the black card? Am-Ex Gold? Visa Platinum? Emerald Super Duper Mega Mastercard Plus? It just won’t matter. Tuvalu is one of the very few countries were cards are not accepted anywhere. Bring cash! You can change money in the bank, but cash is still king. Australian dollars are preferred. The country around the runway Funafuti is the biggest island of Tuvalu, and also the capital. Its 2.4 square kilometers makes up 9% of the entire country, yet it is the home to half the population. Needless to say, there isn’t much space left. But an airport is needed, of course. And one with a refreshing and positive name too! OK, so maybe Funafuti International Airport isn’t all that unique, but the airport code will make you smile. FUN. You can’t beat it, really. The central location of the runway means that almost everything can be seen from the 1,524 meter long runway. Which does not have a fence around it. After all, it is in use as a runway only twice a week. Both times by the only airline that services FUN, Air Pacific which flies from and to Suva, the capital of Fiji on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The rest of the time, people use it for just about anything. Jogging path, yoga spot, walking dogs, playground, sports fields, shortcuts or simply as a part of the road network. There won’t be a lot of tourists making use of the runway, though. The country only gets 1,200 visitors each year which makes is the 3rd least visited country in the world. When leaving by plane, remember that there is a departure tax of 30 Australian dollar, the currency being used (although some coins are from Tuvalu). There is a passenger ship running to Suva every now and then, but it rarely carries tourists. The trip usually takes 3 days, according to one of the mechanics I met in Suva. I’ll let the camera speak. All photos below (and above) were photographed from the runway or less than two minutes walk from it. Click on the photo for higher quality.

How to see a fair amount of a country if you only have a day? If the country is Tonga, renting a scooter will do the trick. That is if you are happy seeing only Tongatapu, the main island where the capital Nuku’alofa is located. Of course, no one should go to Tonga for only a day, as I discovered yesterday. James Cook arrived in Tonga in 1773 and soon came up with the name “Friendly Islands.” It is not hard to understand why, I have rarely experienced such hospitality. And I did not want to leave, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Tonga is made up by 176 island, 40 of which are inhabited. The south coast of Tongatapu is made up by fantastic unspoiled small beaches and hundreds of “blowholes.” Big waves force ocean water through tubes in the rocks and create spectacular geysir effects. The bigger the waves, the higher the water explosion and the louder the sound. It is very fascinating to watch and may occupy you for hours. You can get around by a rental car or by taxi, but the latter is rather expensive. Or you can rent a scooter. It will set you back 20USD for 6 hours, but driving around on one lets you see, listen to and smell the country in a very different way than in a car. Maybe more importantly, it makes you get very close to the locals in villages and along roads. If you drive a car, some people will wave and smile. If you drive a scooter, almost everyone does. Many of them do also want to chat to you. Not to mention how fun it is to drive a scooter. I had never rented one before, and didn’t even think about it until a waitress recommended me to do so. She said it would be too hot to walk around. I never looked back. Not until my photo was commented upon by a friend did I realize that I had been driving around on the scooter with a bike helmet. How could I know? I am a scooter renter novice. It won’t happen again. Driving around, you will be amazed by the green and lush palm tree forests on the island. Or if you prefer the water, there are activites from here to Antarctica. How about swimming with giant whales? Plus of course the usual suspects such as diving, snorkelling and fishing. I will just let the photographs talk. I little advice is to not rule out Tonga if you are considering a trip to the Pacific. Or else, you are committing a crime against your own holiday memories.

Scottish writer Robert Louis Stevensom decided to settle here the last few years of his life, taking the name Tusitala which is Samoan for ‘Teller of Tales.’ 123 years later I am on a mission to visit all 198 countries of the world. Samoa was number 193 on the list. The ten islands that make up Samoa are among the first in the world to experience every new day and every new year, being just west of the international time line. But that is not the only reason to visit. And many have found out. The country is much more touristy than Marshall Islands, although that doesn’t really take a lot. Samoa is splendid for surfing, diving, fishing and hiking. It is in fact so green that the people who live here do their uttermost to stand out from it all. Almost every house is painted in bright colours. Add the many white waterfalls, beige beaches, black rocks, blue ocean water and white waves and it all becomes a cheerful experience to travel around. I rented a car to explore the island. The 150 Tala (50USD) was a great investment, despite a number of rules I should stick to. The rental car manager listed them without blinking. – Drive on the left, don’t park under coconut trees, go slowl through villages, especially near churches and don’t drink and drive. I didn’t think any of that should be a problem, although he soon contradicted himself when recommending where I should go. – You should definitely stop at Litia Sini Beach Resort for a swim and a couple of beers. – But you said no drinking and driving? – Don’t worry, it’s a Sunday. The police don’t work today. – Seriously? So if I want to rob someone, I should to it today? – Hehe…any Sunday would be a good start, yes. Actually nothing happens on Sundays in Samoa. Except church. Everywhere. I have rarely seen as many churches as on my drive around half the country. And the sermons seemed to be well attended. That calls for respect. They expect you to pass you slowly. I did. Not that I had much choice with my banger of a rental car Honda, but that’s a different story. Samoa is a true natural paradise. There are trees and vegetation everywhere. I also saw dozens of different fish species on my 20 minute snorkeling off the beach. Do beware of stray pigs, chickens and dogs, though. They are also everywhere. You will find a decent choice of gourmet restaurants in Apia, the capital. There are also many resorts with superb restaurants around Upolu, the main island. They are primarily located on the west and south coasts. You may also want to visit Savaii by plane or boat. That is the second big island of Samoa, and less touristy. You will also find blowholes there, vertical tubes that go through the rocks down into the sea. When the waves are big, seawater is pressured through them, creating a geysir effect. I didn’t go to Savaii, but I will have to leave something for my next visit. The country is also relatively well connected thanks to several international airlines operating to and from Apia. Air New Zealand has a dialy flight to Auckland, whereas Virgin Samoa takes care of Australian destinations and Air Pacific will transports you from Fiji several times a week and from Honlulu once weekly. I flew in from Honolulu with a couple of dozen surfers. They all checked in surf boards. I now understand why. The waves battering the coastline even appealed to me, a true novice surfer. More photos below.

You haven’t even heard about the country? You are not alone. Marshall Islands is the 5th least visited country in the world. But why is that so? It is probably the best diving, snorkeling and fishing nation in the world. There are 1,059 registered species of fish living in, or should I say below the nation that is made up by 29 coral atolls and 5 islands. That makes it ‘the fishiest countries on earth,’ according to marketing materials, at least. Marshall Islands is hard to get to. It is my 7th last country to visit. I do in retrospect wish I had set aside more time, and that I had done so ages ago. But being an out of the way country also prevents the feared tourist herds from coming. That, in itself, makes for a more relaxed and laidback island paradise. The only two regular flights go from Guam and Honolulu. From Guam you will have to stop on 3 or 4 islands before reaching Majuro, the capital. The Honolulu route is non-stop, but it takes over 4 hours. Both are served by United and cost a lot, as most monopolised routes do. There is however an option, although not a very regular, nor cheap one. Our Airline, based in Nauru, flies from Tarawa, Kiribati once every second week and from Nauru at the same frequence. Going by boat is possible, but you will need a lot more than what a normal holiday offers in order to get there and away. Diving Scuba diving or snorkeling is what most of the mere 5,000 tourists a year come to Marshall Islands to do. Most want to see the vast variety of fish, some are in it for wreck diving. The largest wreck and the only diveable aircraft carrier in the world, The USS Saratoga, is found on the bottom of the Bikini Atoll lagoon. Not into American wrecks? Then HIJMS Nagato, the battleship that lead the attack on Pearl Harbour during WWII, is in the same lagoon. By Kwajalein Atoll you can find Prinz Eugen, a German heavy cruiser that was sometimes seen together with battleship Bismarck. There are also countless other wrecks, many that haven’t even been discovered yet. In for a challenge? The 75 foot diving wessel Indies Trader comes with a captain, chef and 4 crew members and will take you and 7 friends wherever in Marshall Islands for an easy 30,000 USD per two weeks. Shorter and less expensive diving or fishing trips are of course also available from other boat owners or diving companies. Pick up the informative and free brochure from Marshall Islands Visitors Authority for phone numbers of boat numbers, hotels and restaurants. The locals are by the way very competitive when it comes to their fishing, and fishing contests are being held at least 10 times a year by Marshalls Billfish Club. You think you can beat them at their own “turf?” My bet is on them, but please prove me wrong through a photograph and I’ll buy you a drink. Find out when the next competition is on by asking via email. The record for Blue Marlin is for instance 794 pounds (kilos) while the biggest tuna measured in at 161 pounds (kilos). Then again, you may not even be into sea activities at all. If you are a fan of military installations on land, you will be having a field day. The country served as the Japanese eastern defense perimeter during WWII, and a heavy fortification started in anticipation of war. And war they got! Some of the bloodiest fighting in the Pacific took place throughout three years following the first attack on February 1, 1942. You will find 229 land relics on Wotje Atoll, 215 on Maloelap and 167 on Mili. These include air raid shelters, anti-aircraft guns, air control centers, hangars, barracks, power plants, tanks, towers and much more. Escorted day trips are arranged by Marshall Islands Aquatics. Seafood heaven In a country with so much fantastic fresh fish, you’re obliged to indulge. Not sure about the freshness of the fish? You shouldn’t worry. The country is made up by atolls and small islands. An atoll is a narrow island formed as an open circle that makes up a lagoon, so no point in the country is further than 100 meters away from the sea. Say no more. Tuna sashimi is sold from most of the two dozen restaurants in Majuro. 20 large pieces will set you back 7USD. It must be the freshest and cheapest tuna sashimi in the world, no wonder I did not want to leave. A lot of the tuna is actually fished by helicopter. Not literally, of course, but many of the tuna vessels have an own chopper on deck. Every day, a pilot will fly and scout for groups of tuna, then relay their position to the captain via the radio. The tuna doesn’t really stand a chance. I especially loved DAR Restaurant which gives you the feel of an old fashioned US diner. The waitresses there are lovely, and the tuna sashimi came in the biggest portions I have seen. Go there for breakfast. Other recommended restaurants are Enra, Riwut, Tide Table and Won Hai Shien. Accommodation There isn’t much info on Marshall Islands online. But why should there be, no one goes there anyway. The little that is available indicates that hotels are few apart and vastly expensive. That is not true. You can of course find suites at 250USD per night, but big double or twin rooms from 70USD are also easy to find. Marshall Islands Resort commonly called MIR charges from 90USD, Hotel Robert Reimers asks for 110USD (or 80USD for a windowless room – is that even legal?) while Uliga Inn next to the fish market only wants 70USD. They are all good choices. MIR is on the waterfront and the preferred hotel if you want an easily accesible dip in the crystal clear lagoon every morning. If you are on a budget, Backpacker’s Hostel charge from 10USD for a dorm bed or 30USD for a single room without AC. Be warned, there is no hot water there, though and it is next door to Flame Tree, one of the loudest night clubs. The killer story from Marshall Islands was the fact that I woke up between Laura and Rita every morning. And you can too! Laura in the west is the best beach on Majuro Atoll while Rita is on the north east on the other side of the atoll. Oh well, admittedly not the best of jokes. Party How good can the party options be in a country with 50,000 people? In Majuro, there are several good options. Flame Tree is a great spot for a round of pool or for showing off your hidden dance genes a little later in the evening. Serious pool players will however have a valid reason for complaints. The karaoke machine is on the bar only a few feet away. Little beats the effect of high pitched, false toned voices of semi drunk people on the concentration of helicopter pilots and fishermen finally on land for that longed for pool tournament. The covered attached patio is great for a fresh ocean breeze between the pool matches or the dance moves. The two other good night spots are Marshall Islands Club MIC and Jakaro bar at MIR, although Tide Table, the bar of Hotel Robert Reimers occasionally surprises too. Shooters used to be the happening place, but it is now being completelly renovated. When or if it reopens remains to be seen. The best nights out are Fridays and Saturdays, although you can often find a lively scene also on Thursdays and the odd Wednesday. Services There is wi-fi in virtually every cafe, restaurant and hotel in Majuro. It will cost you 5USD per 50 minutes though. Unless you stay in Hotel Robert Reimers where 24 hours will set you back 15USD. A bargain! You’ll find two cash machines in the center, one travel agent and a couple of pharmacies. Payless supermarkets are well stocked and offer a lot of goods you’d expect to find in the US. Many locals can however not afford such luxury and shop in smaller markets. The GNP of Marshall Islands is among the lowest in the world. A fair amount of people live in shacks, cabins or poorly maintained houses. Then again, temperatures are high all year around and the access of fish and fruits is abundant, so they do reasonably well considering. I never experienced begging or threatening situations of any kind. Then again, if you are afraid of stray dogs, you may want to carry a stick when going there. Many of the islands in the Pacific are known for spectacular and big tattoos. John Alefaio is allegedly one of the best tattoo artists in the region, based next to Hotel Robert Reimers in Majuro. If you want something slightly more original than a mermaid or a heart on your shoulder, he is your man. Leaving Majuro is straight forward and easy. The airport is very small and there is never more than one flight at a time. Presumably a good thing, since there is only one international gate. There are no duty free shops, only a little kiosk after security and passport control. You will also find several souvenir shops, a bank, a post office, a restaurant and a bar before security. Remember that you will have to pay 20USD as a departure and security fee though. The airport wants to double the amount, but so far that hasn’t happened. The diving and fishing options eliminate the question of whether I will be back. The question is only when.