The Best American Travel Writing 2015

Copyright © 2015 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company

Introduction copyright © 2015 by Andrew McCarthy

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The Best American Travel Writing
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ISSN
1530-1516

ISBN
978-0-544-56964-5

Cover design by Christopher Moisan © Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Cover photograph © Getty Images

e
ISBN
978-0-544-57928-6
v1.1015

“The Sound of Silence” by Lisa Abend. First published in
AFAR
, February 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Lisa Abend. Reprinted by permission of
Afar Magazine
and Lisa Abend.

“Lawrence's Arabia” by Scott Anderson. First published in
Smithsonian
, July/August 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Scott Anderson. Reprinted by permission of Scott Anderson.

“21st Century Limited” by Kevin Baker. First published in
Harper's Magazine
, July 2014. Copyright © 2014 by
Harper's Magazine
. All rights reserved. Reproduced from the July issue by special permission.

“Land of the Lost” by Stephen Connely Benz. First published in
JMWW
, Summer 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Stephen Benz. Reprinted by permission of Stephen Benz.

“Today Is Better Than Tomorrow” by Benjamin Busch. First published in
Harper's Magazine
, October 2014. Copyright © 2014 by
Harper's Magazine
. All rights reserved. Reproduced from the October issue by special permission.

“The Happiness Metric” by Madeline Drexler. First published in
Tricycle
, Fall 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Madeline Drexler. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Ashes to Ashes” by David Farley. First published in
AFAR
, June/July 2014. Copyright © 2014 by David Farley. Reprinted by permission of David Farley.

“Daughters of the Springs” by Lauren Groff. First published in
Oxford American
, Summer 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Lauren Groff. Reprinted by permission of the Clegg Agency, Inc.

“Tales of the Trash” by Peter Hessler. First published in
The New Yorker
, October 13, 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Peter Hessler. Reprinted by permission of Peter Hessler.

“Hail Dayton” by Rachael Maddux. First published in
Oxford American
, Spring 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Rachael Maddux. Reprinted by permission of Rachael Maddux.

“A Tale of a Tub” by Patricia Marx. First published in
The New Yorker
, February 3, 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Patricia Marx. Reprinted by permission of Patricia Marx.

“The Great Pleasure Project” by Tim Neville. First published in
Ski Magazine
, November 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Tim Neville. Reprinted by permission of Tim Neville.

“A Doubter in the Holy Land” by Maud Newton. First published in the
New York Times Magazine
, April 6, 2014. Copyright © 2014 by the
New York Times
. All rights reserved. Used by permission and protected by the copyright laws of the United States. The printing, copying, redistribution, or retransmission of this content without express written permission is prohibited.

“My Timbuktu” by Adriana Páramo. First published in the
Georgia Review
, Fall 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Adriana Páramo. Reprinted by permission of Adriana Páramo.

“Berlin Nights” by Nick Paumgarten. First published in
The New Yorker
, March 24, 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Nick Paumgarten. Reprinted by permission of Nick Paumgarten.

“Made in China” by Tony Perrottet. First published in the
Wall Street Journal Magazine
, December/January 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Tony Perrottet. Reprinted by permission of the author and the
Wall Street Journal Magazine
.

“Mr. Nhem's Genocide Camera” by Lauren Quinn. First published in the
Believer
, May 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Lauren Quinn. Reprinted by permission of Lauren Quinn.

“Camino Real” by Monte Reel. First published in the
New York Times Magazine
, February 23, 2014. Copyright © 2014 by the
New York Times
. All rights reserved. Used by permission and protected by the copyright laws of the United States. The printing, copying, redistribution, or retransmission of this content without express written permission is prohibited.

“Out of Eden Walk (Parts 1, 2, 3)” by Paul Salopek. First published in
National Geographic
, December 2013/July 2014/December 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Paul Salopek. Reprinted by permission of Paul Salopek.

“Behind Closed Doors at Hotels” by Gary Shteyngart. First published in
Travel + Leisure
, February 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Gary Shteyngart. Reprinted by permission of the Denise Shannon Literary Agency, Inc.

“Ship of Wonks” by Iris Smyles. First published in the
Atlantic
, June 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Iris Smyles. Reprinted by permission of Iris Smyles.

“Baked Alaska” by Christopher Solomon. First published in
Outside
, May 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Christopher Solomon. Reprinted by permission of Christopher Solomon.

“Bonfire of the Humanities” by Patrick Symmes. First published in
Outside
, May 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Patrick Symmes. Reprinted by permission of Patrick Symmes.

“Soul of the South” by Paul Theroux. First published in
Smithsonian
, July/August 2014. Copyright © 2014 by Paul Theroux. Reprinted by permission of the Wylie Agency, LLC./Paul Theroux.

T
RAVEL HAS
the singular ability to turn the most banal events into heightened drama. This can be great for travel writing. This can also be not so great for situations that call for less drama.

Not long ago, following an exhausting and not-prosperous work trip, my flight home from Bilbao was delayed seven hours by a terrible windstorm that shut down several European airports. I spent five and a half of those seven hours stuck in a line of hundreds, while two overwhelmed workers at the Lufthansa desk ever so slowly attempted to reroute more than 300 passengers. As the line trudged forward, I watched the departures board helplessly as flights left, one by one, for Paris, for London, for Madrid, for Lisbon, all connections that would have gotten me home. I had an important meeting in the morning, and then my son's first soccer game, which I'd committed to coach. As the hours passed, I knew I would miss both. By the time I reached the front of the line, there was no way across the Atlantic until the next day, and I was assigned an evening flight to Frankfurt. I was given a handwritten voucher for a hotel, and another voucher for a free dinner.

In the grand scheme of my travels and travails, this was all relatively small potatoes. I've been a passenger on two planes that nearly crashed, a bystander caught in the midst of political demonstrations that turned into riots, and a victim of several felony crimes during many years of travel. My normal response to this seven-hour delay would include some cursing and a few useless, angry phone calls to the airlines, finally giving way to heavy sighs and then drinking.

When I arrived at Frankfurt airport, it was dark and rainy, and a taxi took me to a hotel in the middle of an industrial park in a suburb called Mörfelden. After checking in and explaining to my son that I would not be home in time for soccer, and hearing my boss's dismay at my absence, I slumped down to the hotel's overlit restaurant and grabbed a menu. I was a wreck. My career had suffered some recent blows and this trip was supposed to help turn things around; but it hadn't. In any case, I badly needed some comfort food, and the first item that called out to me was Wiener schnitzel. Why? I don't know. Maybe I was channeling my mother's old veal parm back in Jersey. Maybe it just felt like the opposite of the tapas, especially the ham, I'd been gorging on for days. Whatever the reason, I said, “Yes, please, may I have some Wiener schnitzel?” and presented my voucher. The stern waiter sneered and pointed over to a pathetic buffet in the corner: some stale rolls, a congealed soup, and a platter of rubbery chicken that had been sitting out for hours. This, apparently, was the Lufthansa Stranded Passenger Special that my voucher covered.

I waved the waiter back over. “Please, sir,” I pleaded. “Please. I've had a very long day, and what I really need is to eat this Wiener schnitzel.”

“It's twenty-one euros,” he said. “That food over there is free.”

I had kept mostly cool and Zen all day long, but I suddenly had the urge to scream or cry. “Look, I don't care what I have to pay for it,” I said, my voice rising. “I just need you to bring me this Wiener schnitzel. Right now. Please.” Something in the stern waiter's demeanor seemed to change; empathy washed over his face. He nodded, wrote my order, and whisked away the menu. A few minutes later, he brought a plate with the schnitzel. And along with it, a bottle of Rheinhessen Riesling.

“Sir,” he said. “I am so sorry. I cannot honor the voucher for your meal. But please. I asked my manager, and he said I could pour you this Riesling in exchange for the voucher.” I thanked him quietly and averted my eyes, blushing.

I ravenously tucked into that schnitzel and took a long drink from the wineglass. It wasn't the greatest schnitzel or Riesling, but for some reason, my eyes started to well up and tears ran down my cheeks. These were tears of frustration, but also very much of embarrassment. I'd suddenly realized that the heightened travel drama happening in my own head had selfishly put this poor waiter in a tricky professional spot. He'd only wanted to make sure I clearly understood that I was passing up free food. Surely I wasn't the first agitated, stranded passenger he'd faced at this airport hotel, and surely there'd been misunderstandings and complaints in the past. He didn't need any trouble from his manager on this lousy night in Mörfelden. Meanwhile, I'd chosen to turn the moment into some kind of angsty, M. F. K. Fisher-esque epiphany.