Decades ago when writing travel pieces in Puerto Rico, I joked that the greatest test of one’s mastery of the genre would be to write a successful piece about a never-visited place. It seemed a rather fanciful, far-fetched idea.
Not so today. On a small screen and with the click of a few well-placed keys, you can travel virtually anywhere in the world. Start with an overview on Wikipedia; scroll down specific sites of interest; peruse the high-resolution visuals of screen-size landscapes; zero in on Google Maps; watch a host of characters teach you on YouTube. Way leads onto way—an infinity of ways. And voilá: you’re an expert without ever leaving the confines of your house.
For example:
A Chilean friend, Ana, recommended a series of travel pieces on YouTube, titled Lugares que hablan (‘places that speak’), featuring the irrepressibly enthusiastic guide, Pancho Saavedra. “Check out the episodes for Valdivia,” she recommended. I did, clicking on Lugares que hablan rios de valdivia, Before I could blink, Pancho and I were in an apple orchard, learning how to make cider [chicha], and, moments later, at a local cultural fair, watching a woman cook deep-fried pastry [sopapilla]. All from my desk in Spokane.
Bill’s walk:
In an early chapter of my novel, Bill Albright arrives at the Pichoy Airport after a grueling 24-hour flight from Charleston, West Virginia. Sick to death of airports and airplanes, he decides to walk to Valdivia, a mere twenty miles south of the airport. How could I write this scene? Clicking onto Google Maps, I zoomed ever closer to the airport to get a feel for the surrounding landscape. Then–wham!–I was no longer looking down but was actually on the road, observing the surrounding fields, brush, and isolated homes. By hitting an arrow in a circle, Bill and I walked along Ruta 202, making our way toward Valdivia.
Ruta 202 (Infomariquina)