Andrew Renton :: Travel Writer

I think it is fair to say that I have evolved into a humanist and an adventurer. This is not a boast. It can be a nuisance, and is as much a surprise to me as to my friends.

I am not the "throw myself off the top of a mountain and see what happens" type of adventurer, nor the "lets go trekking across the polar ice-cap and see if I live to tell the tale" variety. I value my life way too much for that sort of nonsense. You will hopefully never read how I held a pack of wolves at bay and survived because I probably wouldn't. I chose to spend another day at the beach in Zanzibar rather than risking altitude sickness on a gruelling climb up Mount Kilimanjaro - so what if I never got to own the "I climbed Kili and survived" T-shirt.

As a humanist, I do not mean that I rush around the world doing good deeds because I don't. I mean a simple love of people whether in a Ger in Mongolia or a 7/11 in Vancouver, my chosen home. I believe, selfishly, that if I stir things up a bit, everyone has a special story to tell which can somehow enrich my day.

I must be a fairly good communicator because I talked a newly arrived German backpacker out of his long-pants in half an hour so I could dine with The Governor of Central Sulawesi. My only pair were being pounded on a lakeside table by the hotel laundry lady!

Adventure and people are my addiction. The monkey on my back. I get a massive adrenaline rush when I am being transported: A bus; A rickshaw; A horse or camel; A kayak, river-raft or train. I feel free to view and learn.

A lone visit to a village in Iran or Bangladesh sets my nerves jangling and my heart singing. What a challenge - What a rush. How to befriend people who are naturally petrified of a grey-haired 6'3" monster! I am lucky to be surrounded by photographs of smiling faces from these encounters.

All adventurers are raconteurs. It just goes with the territory. I return home pumped from yet another amazing trip to the longhouses of Sarawak or scrabbling up riverbeds in search of The White Kermode Spirit bear in Northern BC. The eyes of my friends glaze over as I draw my first breath. "Why don't you just write about it?" someone says hopefully.

In January 2001, I qualified to join TMAC: The Travel Media Association of Canada.

More than 200 stories have since appeared in:

THE GLOBE AND MAIL
THE WINDSOR STAR
THE ST CATHERINES HERALD
THE OTTAWA CITIZEN
THE EDMONTON JOURNAL
THE CALGARY HERALD
THE VICTORIA TIMES COLONIST
THE VANCOUVER SUN
THE VANCOUVER PROVINCE
THE VANCOUVER NORTHSHORE NEWS
THE VANCOUVER COURIER
WESTWORLD MAGAZINE - BC & ALBERTA
THE SEATTLE POST INTELLIGENCER
FLYING LADY MAGAZINE
PACIFIC NEWPAPERS
THE KINGSTON WHIG-STANDARD
THE REGINA LEADER POST
THE LINDSAY DAILY POST
THE BARRIE EXAMINER
THE NEW GLASGOW EVENING NEWS
THE TRURO DAILY NEWS
THE KIMBERLY DAILY BULETIN
THE MONTREAL GAZETTE
THE CLOVERDALE REPORTER
THE WINNIPEG FREE PRESS
THE COQUITLAM NOW
THE SURREY NOW
24 HOURS
THE PRINCE GEORGE CITIZEN
THE SASKATOON STAR PHOENIX

I love to hear that my articles have helped a deserving tour-guide in Sri Lanka or a young kayaking company in BC. I love to tell of the toothless old lady who lent me 10 cents for busfare in the hills of Guatemala after I had been pickpocketed at a village fair, or the Ecuadorian trainman who produced mace to keep would-be robbers at bay while I climbed down from the carriage roof into a waiting cab.

My ultimate high would be to stop a war. Wouldn't it be fun to tell the religious zealots and the moron politicians who run our world, that we the people are nice and don't wish to play in their sandbox anymore! (Consider this in the context of a group of much villified ex-wives, husbands or lovers meeting for the first time and realising that they were not the problem!) - Ah! - maybe in the next life!!!!!!!!!

Meanwhile, I shall continue to selflessly report on adventures with my trusty pack, cameras, journal, a bottle of Scotch and a fits-all plug. As long as I can still march to the drummer... the beat will go on! AR.