The Amazing Race 6, Episode 9 (travel advice and lessons from the tsunami in the Indian Ocean)

Lalibela (Ethiopia) - Addis Ababa (Ethiopia) - Colombo (Sri Lanka) - Galle (Sri Lanka) - Kandy (Sri Lanka) - Dambulla (Sri Lanka) - Sigiriya (Sri Lanka)

This weeks's episode of The Amazing Race was dedicated to those affected by the tsunami, especially in Sri Lanka where the reality-TV show was filmed "a few weeks" (a few months, to be more precise), before the 26 December 2004 tsunami caused by an earthquake under the Indian Ocean off the northwest coast of Sumatra.

Questions were raised, inevitably, about whether CBS-TV should have gone through with the broadcast, or should have cancelled, postponed, or changed it. Similar questions were undoubtedly raised in the first season of "The Amazing Race" about how to deal with the broadcast of the finish of the race in New York City, which had been filmed (including shots of the World Trade Center towers) just a few weeks before the destruction of the towers on 11 September 2001.

In both cases, CBS proceeded with the broadcasts, essentially without alteration, just as most travellers are proceeding with their itineraries, even to countries affected by the tsunami, largely without alteration.

Despite the seriousness of the damage in some places, the effects of the tsunami were much more localized than might be apparent from many news reports. Even areas close to the coast were unaffected if they were more than a few meters or feet above sea level, so that only in the lowest-lying, flattest places did the waves come any significant distance in from the shore. Coastal resorts and facilities on very slightly higher ground were undamaged in even the worst hit areas.

Even along the coastline of world regions where there was damage, most areas were unaffected. In particular, the worst damage was on Sumatra, the westernmost island of Indonesia. But the destructive force of the tsunami was blocked by the Malay Peninsula, and the narrowness of the Straits of Malacca to the northeast and the Sunda Strait to the southeast of Sumatra, from reaching any of the rest of the Indonesian archipelago, or any other parts of Southeast Asia further to the east.

Singapore, Jakarta, and the main tourist destinations of Indonesia (Java, Bali, Lombok, Borneo, Sulawesi, and other islands to the east) were all completely untouched. And it's life, business, and tourism as usual on the eastern shore of the Malay Peninsula, and the islands off the east coast, in Thailand and Malaysia, including resorts like Ko Samui.

If you are looking for alternative and uncrowded tropical Southeast Asian seashore with superlative beaches, scuba diving, and surfing, consider the entirely undamaged coasts of the Philippines (especially the Visayan islands, reachable via Cebu without even needing to go through the capital, Manila) or Vietnam (also a superlative cultural, culinary, scenic, and historical destination). As I've mentioned in an earlier posting, the tsunami was undetectable (except perhaps with sophisticated instruments) even in the calmest and shallowest water, or right on the coast in the places of greatest vulnerability, where I was in the Visayas.

Some parts of South and Southeast Asia are actually seeing more tourists than before: Some travellers who had planned to go to the west coast of Thailand and Malaysia are going to the east coast instead, while some who had planned to go to coastal Tamil Nadu or southern Kerala in India, or to Sri Lanka, are going to Goa (further north on India's western coast, which wasn't reached by the tsunami) instead. Most of India, including not just inland areas, of course, but also coastal cities in the north such as Mumbai (Bombay) and Kolkata (Calcutta), was beyond reach of the tsunami.

The bottom line is that the world is surprisingly big and resilient. Even the worst natural disasters can't damage more than a small part of it. No matter what bad things happen in one place, there are always more than enough other interesting and enjoyable places, often not very far away, to keep travellers busy for a lifetime of travel.

Rebuilding is proceeding as fast as possible in those areas that were hit by the tsunami, and facilities on slightly higher ground remain open. Many of these coastal communities depend on tourists and their spending. The sooner visitors return, the sooner they will be able to rebuild the rest of their lives and economies. (There's likely to be much less capital available, and rebuilding is likely to proceed much more slowly, in areas without a previously established tourism industry and proven potential to generate revenues from tourism to pay back investment in reconstruction of tourist facilities and infrastructure.)

If you already have tickets, there's no need to make a hasty decision on whether to modify your plans: If the place you are planning to visit hasn't recovered sufficiently by the time you get there for an enjoyable visit, it's likely to be easy enough to get to other nearby places by local transportation or short local flights -- the other side of Thailand or Peninsular Malaysia, for example -- that were on higher ground, or shielded from the tsunami.

That's likely to be less costly, and leave you more flexibility, than rushing to make costly changes now to the routing of your tickets that may end up being unnecessary as the recovery and rebuilding proceeds.

Only in the more severely damaged areas -- few of which were major tourist destinations -- is tourism likely to be inappropriate or unenjoyable . For those interested in travelling to these hardest-hit places, or in contributing to relief and reconstruction in other ways than through continued spending as tourists, my friends at the Ethical Traveler project have an excellent section of their Web site on ways to help and contribute and the complex issues of volunteering in disaster areas, as well as dispatches and photos from Sri Lanka by Ethical Traveler founder and executive director Jeff Greenwald, working temporarily as communications officer with a relief organization in many of the same places where "The Amazing Race" was filmed.

On the larger questions of ethics in tourism, I was quoted at some length in an article on Travelers Who Strive To Do No Harm published in the Christian Science Monitor just a few days before the tsunami. There's more on related questions in my essay on Ecotourism and the Ecology of Independent Travel and the resources listed under "The Ecology of Travel and Tourism" in The Practical Nomad: How to Travel Around the World . For further reading, I especially recommend the UK-based international activist organization Tourism Concern , which has specific advice for travel in the wake of the tsunami as well as information on other ethical issues for tourists and travellers.

But what could we have done if we had been in one of the places the tsunami hit? What can we do, before and during our own trips, to prepare for the possibility of events like this?

There's been a lot of talk about the possibility of a tsunami warning system for the Indian Ocean, similar to the Tsunami Warning System in the Pacific Ocean coordinated by the International Tsunami Information Center and the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Ewa Beach, Oahu, Hawai'i (worth a visit if you're in Honolulu).

If mobile phone operators were able to send text messages to subscribers, after the fact, asking them to donate to tsunami relief charities, why couldn't they send a message to all subscribers in the area to warn them of the approaching tsunami, especially in places where it didn't arrive until hours after it had struck coastal areas closer to the earthquake that caused it? And why weren't calls made by people in those places, or observers who detected the tsunami further afield, to the global news media, so that CNN and the BBC could have spread the warning to their viewers and listeners throughout the danger zone, and they could have warned those around them?

But the fact is that an approaching tsunami provides its own distinctive warning signs, which were seen and noticed -- but not recognized, even by water safety professionals -- by most people along the affected coasts, in time for most of them to have escaped if they had the most elementary knowledge of how to recognize those warning signs, and what to do if they saw them. The lack of recognition of the warnings, and the resultant failure to evacuate low-lying areas, even where that would have been possible, was primarily due to a lack of public safety education about tsunami hazards.

If you learn and remember just one thing about tsunamis, it should be this:

If you feel an earthquake while along the coast, or if you see the ocean recede far from shore, or the sea level drop, further or lower and more rapidly than the lowest low tide -- over a period of 5 minutes to an hour, rather than several hours like a normal tide -- flee to high ground if possible, or inland if there is no high ground nearby, and warn other people nearby.

Most tsunamis are caused by undersea earthquakes. Any earthquake felt along the seashore could have caused, and could be a warning of, a rapidly approaching tsunami.

A tsunami travels across the ocean at up to 800 km/hour (500 miles/hour) as a series of very long (up to several hundred kilometers or miles), very low waves no more than a couple of meters high in deep water (10 feet or often much less), increasing to as much as 10 meters (35 feet) in shallower water as they approach shore, with a period of 10 minutes to 2 hours.

Often the first trough of the series of tsunami waves precedes the first crest. So the water lowers and surges out before the first big surge upward and inland. When the ocean suddenly recedes, the natural human instinct is to rush forward to look at the strange phenomenon and the unusually low "tide" and often never-before-exposed seabed.

That's exactly the wrong thing to do. When the water rushes out further than ever before, it will soon come back, much higher than ever before. Heed the water's own warning, and head for high ground immediately. A tsunami rarely reaches more than 10 meters (35 feet) above sea level. But every little bit of height helps. If there is no high ground, head inland as far as possible.

Don't think the danger is over, or go back to the shore, when the first surge of water recedes. A tsunami is a series of several long waves which may surge in and out, back and forth, up and down, for several hours. The highest and most destructive surge may be the first, the second, or the sixth in the set. A former colleague, who was working at a dive resort on a small low island in the Maldives where every structure was washed away, says the tsunami waves there had a period of about 20 minutes, with the most destructive wave being the third.

The relatively few people around the Indian Ocean who recognized the warning signs of the approaching tsunami were able to save themselves and those they warned. In perhaps the most dramatic and widely publicized incident, a 10-year-old tourist from the UK, who had recently learned about tsunamis in school in England, warned her parents, who in turn warned 100 other people on the beach they were on in Thailand -- all of whom fled the beach before the tsunami came in, and all of whom escaped death or serious injury.

Tsunamis are quite rare, although unpredictable. There may not be another one as destructive as this one, anywhere in the world, in the rest of our lifetime.

But some of the problems travellers had after the tsunami -- having lost their tickets and passports, or not being able to find their friends -- can and do also result from more common travel mishaps. Here's what you can do to minimize the delay and inconvenience if something like this ever happens to you:

1. Make several copies of all your documents (passport, visas, airline tickets, travellers check receipts, credit and debit cards, lists of addresses and phone numbers and e-mail addresses, etc. -- everything in your wallet or money belt), in case they are lost or stolen. Having photocopies or faxes of your missing documents -- not just document numbers -- makes it hugely quicker and easier to get them replaced. You could be robbed of all your possessions (rare), lose them all when you have to flee a fire, road accident, tsunami, or other disaster (rarer), lose all your documents, or forget them and not realize it until you are far away (surprisingly common). Keep a set of copies in your luggage, separate from the originals. If you are travelling with a companion, exchange copies of each other's documents. Leave a set with someone back home whom you can contact and who can fax them to you in an emergency.
   
   
2. Always have a plan for how you will reconnect with your travelling companion(s) if you are unexpectedly separated. Most of the time, you assume that you'll meet back at your hotel. But some of the locales where it's easiest to get split up -- in a crowd at a bus or train station, for example -- are places you are likely to be when you are en route from one place to another. It's especially easy to lose track of your companion(s) if you've gotten accustomed to using your mobile phones to find each other at home, but don't have them while travelling. What if you don't have your next hotel reserved? Or what if, in an emergency, you have to flee your hotel? Agree in advance on where your next rendezvous will be. E-mail will often work, though it may take time for you both to make your way to cybercafes, but in an emergency it may not be available. As a backup, and in case of more serious disruptions of your plans, agree on a person you will contact back home to let them know if you are OK and pass on a message as to where you are.
   
   
3. If you are a citizen of the USA, register your travel plans with the USA Department of State at https://travelregistration.state.gov It's inconvenient, often impractical, and sometimes inadvisable to visit a consulate or embassy of the USA in person to let them know where you are, but that's no longer necessary: you can register your entire intended route and schedule through any number of countries in advance, and specify to which of your family, friends, or specific other people this information can be divulged. The State Department will e-mail you advisories (sometimes politically biased and propagandistic, but sometimes useful) if they issue or change a travel warning for any of the countries you plan to visit, and will know you are in the country in case of an emergency, natural disaster, or evacuation of USA citizens.
   
   
4. Bring some type of water purification or treatment equipment. After the tsunami, the most critical survival need was drinkable fresh water. More and more travellers are relying on buying bottled water, but even if you aren't in a disaster area, sooner or later you'll find yourself somewhere bottled water isn't available. If you don't have some way to purify or treat contaminated water, you'll drink whatever water is available, and you'll get sick. Or you'll drink no water at all, and soon get dangerously dehydrated. Boiling water is an effective way to render almost any water drinkable, but that isn't always practical when you are travelling. If you do plan on boiling your drinking water, make sure you have suitable water bottles. Nalgene bottles will hold boiling water without leakage or damage, but the type of plastic used for most bottles in which water is sold will shrink, crumple, and leak if filled with boiling water. At a minimum, bring some water purification tablets (foul tasting and not recommended for long-term use) for emergencies. Or, to free yourself from reliance on bottled water, bring a water purifier of some sort. There are some interesting new alternatives: on my latest trip, I used a mixed oxidant water purifier from the REI; consumer cooperative. It's expensive, a bit complicated, and requires care and time management to use properly, but it's a fraction of the size and weight of a combination filter and purifier like the ones I've used in the past, seems sturdy and reliable (it was originally designed for military field use), yet can easily treat even large containers of water.

Above all, though, don't worry too much about what could go wrong. The reason to prepare is so that once you've done so, you don't need to worry. Relax and enjoy your trip!

The Amazing Race 6, Episode 8

l'Ile Rousse, Corsica (France) - Nice (France) - Addis Ababa (Ethiopia) - Lalibela (Ethiopia)

The invisible hand influencing "The Amazing Race" this week in Ethiopia may have been the altitude: over 2500 meters (8000 feet) above sea level in both Addis Ababa and Lalibela.

Kendra had what she thought was an asthma attack, to which the altitude could have contributed, or which could have been simply symptoms of altitude, mistaken for asthma. Other racers were shown panting for breath, or having difficulty maintaining their expected walking pace on the hilly trails around Lalibela. And some of them looked and acted as though they might have been feeling a bit light-headed, dizzy, or slightly confused. All of these might have been consequences of the altitude, especially given their rapid ascent followed immediately by aerobic exercise without time for rest or acclimation.

The racers were required to do pretty much everything possible to maximize their chances of ill effects from the altitude. As a result, real travellers can learn a lot from this episode about what not to do if you don't want unnecessary discomfort.

I'm not a doctor. For more detailed and professional advice, I recommend that you consult your doctor (as you should at least a month before any big trip) and Staying Healthy in Asia, Africa, and Latin America (Avalon Travel Publishing, 5th edition, 2000), by public health expert Dirk Schroeder. This is the book to read before your trip for preventive advice, and the medical guide I always carry with me when I travel outside the First World. (This was also the book that first attracted me to the company now known as Avalon Travel Publishing, which later became my publisher as well.)

But here's my best understanding of what you can do if you don't want to have the same problems the racers may have had:

1. Be aware of the altitude. At least in daylight, a significant altitude gain is usually obvious when you are travelling by road or rail. When I rode from Kashgar at 1,300 meters (4,000 feet) to Tashkurgan at 4,000 meters (13,000 feet) in one day on the Karakoram Highway, I had no doubt our jeep was climbing, and I wasn't surprised that I didn't sleep soundly that night, or that I got out of breath in a few steps when I got out of the jeep at 5,000 meters (16,000 feet) at the Khunjerab Pass. But altitude gain between takeoff and landing of a long-haul flight, such as from sea level in Europe or Cairo to Addis Ababa, is generally imperceptible, even on a clear day. Altitude gain might have been noticeable on a clear day from a small plane flying close to the ground, but Addis Ababa and Lalibela are at similar altitudes on the Ethiopian Plateau. And whether from the air or the ground, there's no necessary visual distinction between high plains and flat lowlands. I suspect that none of the contestants in the race realized that they were at an altitude high enough to affect their performance, or would have realized without looking it up or being told. Only if you are aware of the altitude can you adjust your actions to compensate for it or minimize its effects.
   
   
2. Altitude doesn't have to be extreme to have perceptible effects. "Altitude sickness" isn't just a phenomenon of the highest mountains, or of icy cold heights. Most people begin to "feel the altitude", especially during physical exertion, at between 1,800-2,500 meters (6,000-8,000 feet) above sea level. Anywhere above that height, shortness of breath, dizziness, light-headedness, headaches, or difficulty sleeping might be symptoms of the altitude. And near the equator -- in the Andes, on the African highlands, or on mountains in Southeast Asia, for example -- the climate even at altitudes considerably higher than that can be quite mild and warm.
   
   
3. Go slow. Ascend gradually. Give your body time to adjust to higher altitude and thinner air. The rule of thumb I've heard for high-altitude climbers and hikers is to try not to sleep more than 300 meters (1000 feet) higher each night than the previous night, even if you go higher during the day. If logistics require you ascend more rapidly, especially if you have to fly directly to a significantly higher altitude, don't plan to do anything but rest and acclimate for at least a day, and don't plan any hard physical labor or strenuous activity for several days, depending on the amount of altitude gain. The day after flying from sea level to 3,000 meters (10,000 feet), a half-day walking tour that includes a few flights of steps could leave you feeling like you've run a marathon. Don't think you won't feel the altitude because you're young, healthy, physically fit, or haven't had problems at high altitudes in the past: some people are, for no apparent reason, much more susceptible than others to the effects of altitude. Susceptibility to altitude can vary unpredictably through an individual's life, so you might suddenly become uncomfortable at an altitude you've been to many times before without ill effect.
   
   
4. Be aware of your body. If you have trouble breathing or feel weak, dizzy, or lightheaded, slow down. Learn from the racers' careless-seeming mistakes, such as those that led to Victoria and Jonathan's elimination: Keep reminding yourself that your oxygen-deprived brain may not be thinking entirely clearly, and double-check any critical or complex tasks you have to do. Most healthy travellers, even coming from sea level to the world's highest major cities, experience only a few days of minor discomfort from altitude. But if you do experience serious or continuing symptoms of altitude sickness, descend immediately. Often there is a critical "threshold" altitude, and descending a few hundred meters (a thousand feet) can bring dramatic and nearly instantaneous relief. If a quick descent isn't possible, or isn't sufficient to relieve your symptoms, seek immediate medical help.

Airport connections in Hong Kong

I might not otherwise have bothereed to mention it here, but after having previously complained about misleading advertising of the price of combined airport and city subway transit tickets in New York I feel obliged to report on my recent experience with very similarly misleading advertisements of the price of MTR subway connections to and from the Airport Express trains in Hong Kong.

To some extent, you get what you pay for: the subway and Airtrain connections to JFK are far less comportable than those in Hong Kong, and take at least 3 times as long to and from the center of the city, but cost less than a third of the price of the airport rail service in Hong Kong.

But the real difference was in how my complaints were handled. No one in the subway-Airtrain transfer station in New York would accept responsibility for the misleading advertisements, and even my written complaint produced only the most unresponsive of replies, none offering any redress of my grievance.

In Hong Kong, the station manager not only gave my compliant prompt and polte consideration on the spot but read the advertisement of "free MTR connections" for Airport Express passengers, admitted that it was misleading, and gave me a free MTR ticket to connect to the airport!

The Hong Kong Special Administrative Region may not wish to think of itself as part of China, but this exemplified the spirit of "Serve the people!" as much as anything that happened to me elsewhere in the PRC on this trip.

On a related matter, it's worth noting that the "city check-in" in Hong Kong is virtually useless for most passengers travelling to the USA, since despite passport checks at check-in and positive passenger-bag matching, the USA Transportation Security Administration refuses to allow bags destined for the USA to be checked in anywhere except at the airport. So if you are going to the USA, you can get "check in" and get your boarding pass in downtown Hong Kong, but you unlike travellers form Hong Kong to anywhere else in the world you can't check your bags in advance downtown. You have to stand in exactly the same line to check your luggage once you get to the airport -- how many people travel from Hong Kong to the USA with only carry-on bags? -- as you would have if you hadn't already "checked in". The limitation is the fault of the USA, not the Hong Kong authorities or the operators of the city check-in service, but it should be more clearly spelled out when the city baggage check-in facility is advertised in in-flight arrival videos, airline ticket jackets, and airport and Airport Express literature.)

[Addendum: Reply from the Hong Kong MTR (23 February 2005 )]

The Amazing Race 6, Episode 7

Budapest (Hungary) - Ajaccio, Corsica (France) - Calvi, Corsica (France) - l'Ile Rousse, Corsica (France)

In this week's episode of The Amazing Race, Adam and Rebecca jump into first place (midway through the race around the world, although still in Europe despite a side trip to Africa) by completing a "Fast Forward" challenge that requires open-ocean diving on the sea floor off Corsica in heavy, antique lead-weighted diving suits and helmets, with air supplied through hoses from the surface.

That's easy enough for Rebecca, who's previously been trained and certified as a scuba diver. Adam, however, has difficulty figuring out how to control the air valves, his breathing, or his buoyancy. He ends up floating on the surface, helpless and panicked, with his diving suit inflated so rigidly that he can't move. The dive crew has to haul him bodily out of the water onto the dock and unscrew his helmet.

Despite the divemaster's quite appropriate suggestion that Adam take a break until he calms down -- panic is a major risk factor in diving and, according to some things I've read, the leading cause of death while diving -- Adam soon accedes to Rebecca's demands that he hurry up and try again. This time he succeeds in controlling both his panic reaction and the air valves, descends to the sea floor (we aren't told how deep it is), walks some unspecified distance along the bottom to the location of the next clue, and successfully returns to the starting point and the surface.

It's tempting to assume that "All's well that end's well", and to direct any criticism at Adam for his fear, rather than at Rebecca for her urging him to do something he felt he wasn't capable of.

I'm not a diver, and I don't feel qualified to judge just how much actual danger there was in this type of dive (at least if the diver didn't panic), in these conditions, with, presumably, extra helpers standing by and even more care being taken than in a normal tourist dive on account of the television shoot.

But real-world travellers can't rely on television producers to check out the safety of adventurous activities or outfitters. Nor can you assume that certified guides who know what they are doing will ensure the safety of an activity -- some things are inherently dangerous, even when done or overseen by experts -- or count on local people who profit from arranging tourist activities to warn you of their dangers. There are plenty of places around the world where the tourist economy revolves around activities most locals regard as insanely dangerous, and would never engage in unless they were paid.

"If tourists want to pay us to risk their lives, why should we stop them?" is the typical attitude, especially in places where most of the tourists are much richer than most local people.

Nor can you assume that something must be safe just because, "Everyone else is doing it." Other tourists are probably no better informed about the risks than you are, and likely to be making the same assumption. Typically, it's only after a fatal accident that people start asking why they didn't all perceive the danger in the latest local adventure-sports fad. And the risk may be very different for those with expertise or training (certified divers, for example) than for novices -- it's very dangerous to assume that something will be safe for your travelling companion just becuse you know how to do it safely.

Of course we'd like our vacation to be a holiday from worries about things like safety, but that's not possible, no matter how much we pay a tour operator to take care of us and protect us. Our personal safety is something for which we all have to take personal responsibility and maintain alertness, even while we are travelling, especially in unfamilar places or situations.

I was thinking about this recently when I met a friend who had survived last month's tsumami at a dive resort in the Maldives. When every structure on the island was washed away, the distinction between "staff" and "guests", or who had paid whom (almost everyone having had their money and personal documents washed away anyway) became relatively insignificant. When it took three days for help to arrive, what came to matter was their physical and emotional condition; what useful objects they had salvaged or could find; and what skills and ability each of them had to help themselves as well as help others survice.

It's common, for a variety of reasons, for people to take risks while travelling that they wouldn't take at home. Almost all of us do, in different ways. "I'll never be here again, or get another chance to do this," is a powerful temptation. I explore back alleys in China, alone and on foot, speaking and reading no Chinese. You, perhaps, jump out of airplanes with a parachute, or jump off bridges tethered only with a bungee cord.

What matters isn't whether we would try each other's flavors of adventure, or think each other nuts, but whether our choices are reasonably deliberate and informed by a reasonably complete knowledge of what risks they entail. The key thing is that we be aware of, and comfortable with, the choice we've made, so that whatever happens, we'll feel the risk was worthwhile and deliberately chosen, not something to regret.

Which risks are inherent in the activity, and which can be avoided? If something does go wrong, and you get hurt, would you rather it happen while you are travelling, or closer to home?

One obvious way to reduce the risk of activities like diving, climbing, or whitewater sports, if you plan to engage in them while travelling, is to get at least some training near home, before your trip. Not only will that give you some safety and self-rescue skills, but it will give you an idea of what to look for in an outfitter, and how to judge their competence and safety.

Ask a local expert or trainer, or the instructor in your introductory class at home: "What should I look for, or ask about, before I decide to go kayaking/sky diving/canyoneering with a local operator in Country X?"

If you have no training of your own, it's hard to judge a guide's or instructor's purported credentials, but it's a lot easier at home than in a strange country, and much easier if someone you trust has given you a checklist of things to look for and ask about.

None of us wants to be laughed at for our fear, as many television viewers no doubt laughed at Adam this week. But even less, if we think about it, do we want to have to live with having chosen to take risks that we didn't think about, as a result of which we or someone else came to harm.

It's good to overcome unfounded fears, and many things that are scary aren't really dangerous . But well-founded fear that warns us of danger can be a good thing: a useful reminder of the importance of rational risk assessment, regardless of what personal criteria and values we use to conduct that risk/benefit analysis.

Safe and sound in Dongguan, China

My sympathy to everyone who has been affected by the earthquake and tsunami, and my thanks to all those who have sent concern for my well-being.

I'm on vacation largely off the Internet, but was safely on the other side of the Malay Peninsula, in the Philippines. I was actually kayaking over the reef in less than half a meter of water at the precise time of the earthquake, and staying in a beachfront bungalow less than a meter above high tide level, but the the tsunami was imperceptible on this side of the Malay Peninsula (except perhaps with sophisticated instruments) even on the coast or in shallow water.

I'll have more on the lessons for travellers of the earthquake and tsunami, and updates on The Amazing Race, when I return home next week.

The Amazing Race 6, Episode 6

Berlin (Germany) - Budapest (Hungary) - Eger (Hungary) - Budapest (Hungary)

A lot happened in this leg of the race. At any rate, we saw a lot of it, since this one leg of the race -- with a single set of challenges, a single "pit stop", and a single elimination -- was broadcast in two parts, on 21 December 2004 and 4 January 2005. And in between, on 28 December 2004, there was a broadcast of outtake clips collected from previous episodes.

The elimination of Hera and Gus largely came down to their choice on the final challenge to paddle an inflatable raft across the Danube (more difficult than it appeared, as river crossings often are, due to the current) while each of the other teams of racers chose to play water polo against an expert (easier than it sounded, as it turned out, since it was two against one).

The more interesting lesson for other travellers came much earlier in the episode, and two weeks earlier in the broadcasts, when the teams had to drive themselves from Budapest to Eger, Hungary, in classic old East German "Trabant" cars.

I was in (West) Germany in 1989 on the first weekend after the fall of the Berlin Wall, when East Germans first were able to visit their long-estranged friends and families in the West. Those East Germans who had cars almost all had "Trabies", which instantly became objects of conversation (and comedy) in the West, especially since their extremely small size -- relative to typical West German cars -- was offest by their being packed with as many Easterners as could squeeze in for a first-time-in-decades trip to the formerly-forbidden West.

The Trabant was "the Volkswagen of East Germany". Millions were made, and at one time the Trabi was most common type of private automobile in central Europe. Like the Volkswagen Beetle, the basic design of the Trabi remained essentially similar for decades, from the late 1950's through the 1980's.

The editing of "The Amazing Race" gives the impression that Trabants are inherently unreliable and inferior to better-known (to us in the USA) makes and models, and/or that their fallability (several of the racers' cars are seen breaking down, and some have to be replaced) is somehow related to their being small and "toylike".

But small size is often an advantage when parking or maneuvering in the narrow streets of older cities, or on narrow rural lanes, or when a car needs to be dragged out of a ditch and there's no heavy equipment available. Remember those scenes of Indian bystanders pushing and carrying the racers' Ambassadors through the streeets of Kolkata last season? Try that, or try finding a boat large enough to ferry your vehicle across a flooded stream, with a big American "sport utility vehicle".

So what if Trabies have two-cylinder, two-cycle engines? They may be noisy and pollute the air, but that doesn't make them unreliable. For what it's worth, Saab's with two-cycle engines were being sold in the USA into the 1970's.

Really, the only trouble with Trabies is that that, (1) not having been made since 1991, shortly after German reunification, all those that remain are becoming antique, or at least quite old, cars, and (2) they were never designed for the contemporary autobahn speeds at which the racers seemingly attempt to drive them, making them peculiarly ill-suited for a race.

Like the Volkswagen Beetle (including those made until recently in Mexico and Brazil) or the Indian Ambassador, the Trabant can be seen from different points of view as "crude" or "simple", "unadorned" or "uncomplicated", "unsophisticated" or "easily user-servicable", "ill-suited for high-speed expressways" or "well-suited for unpaved Second and Third World roads".

It's cool to have the latest and greatest high-tech tools and gadgets, especially if they are inessential and not so expensive that you'll care too much if they are lost or stolen. But the crucial criterion for travellers -- especially for mission-critical gear and equipment -- is how easy it will be to repair or replace it, on your own or with locally-available tools and assistance -- when (not if) it breaks down along the way.

In most cases, that means you are most likely to get where you want if you use whatever type of vehicle or other equipment is most common, for which spare parts are most easily found, and with which local mechanics are most familiar. Even if its performance, specifications, and odds of breaking down in the first place are otherwise far inferior to more advanced but locally "exotic" models.

Fifteen years ago, when a Trabant wasn't yet an antique, that would clearly have made it the appropriate choice for a car to use in Hungary, rather than, say, a West German Mercedes or BMW. The same is still true today of the Ambassador in India or -- even though they haven't been made in a few years -- of the Volkswagen Beetle in Mexico or Brazil.