5 hard lessons learned that made chickenfeet travels better

Travelling is the cure for anything. Getting away from home gives you space to breathe and gain perspective. Travelling forces you to depend on yourself; and if you can’t, you learn fast or you go home. Travelling also forces you to confront yourself; to really know who you are. These are a few stories from the road for context and the lessons that I learned. All these lessons really makes Chickenfeet Travels everything that I personally wanted out of a travel company, blog, and consultant.

These are the 5 moments that truly changed the way I travel and how I want to hold integrity for Chickenfeet Travels:

• Trekking Ciudad Perdida in Colombia

• Sailing around French Polynesia

• Talking to backpackers about their experience at orphanages

• Trekking up Roraima

• Trust the locals

Trekking with the Kogi People in Ciudad Perdida

One of the last things that I did when I was in South America, was the Ciudad Perdida trek, also known as the Lost City Trek in Colombia. It is popular, but because of the cost, it deters a lot of backpackers; it is the anti-macchu pichu. I was travelling on a budget, but like I always say, I will bleed money for anything epic. The trek was 4 days. Unlucky us, it rained more than half the time. We walked through rivers, mud to our knees, and slid down muddy slopes. Overall an unpleasant situation, but I loved it. Sometimes I still get whiffs of that Lost City mud when my hiking boots get wet enough. Mmmmm….the memories. Other than the insane trekking conditions, what I learned from this trip was actually not how to be prepared. What I noticed was the way the indigenous Kogi people were looking at us and what I learned from that.

Just a very brief background: the Kogi people are descendants of the Tairona culture found living in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta in Colombia. Kogis still hunt and gather as much as possible and they also practice standard agriculture to sustain their needs, as there are less and less wild animals and forest for them to hunt in. They dress simply, all in the same white dress-like piece of clothing. To summarise, the Kogis live a simple life, but that does not mean that they don’t live a fulfilled life.

Back to what I noticed about the way they looked at us, backpackers trudging through the mud. We walked past a few of their villages, there was also a few Kogi kids following us on the trek, and of course, some helping around where we camped. To simplify, when I say we, I mean those of us who grew up in a developed nation and they, I mean Kogis, or anyone that lives a developing nation, living a simple life. After we visit their homes and villages, we are humbled and feel grateful for what we have. We can’t fathom how they live without an iPhone, their own apartment, internet, [insert any item of comfort and luxury here]. We think we are better than them. We think they want what we have. As I watched the Kogis watching us, I noticed something.

They looked at us with empathy. They looked at us like we were lost souls. They looked at us like we were the ones that “need help.” They looked at us with looks of “I hope they find what they came here to find.” And they were right. They looked at us in a way that shifted the way I wanted to live forever. 

Here we are in our big cities, chasing big jobs fancy titles, and more money. Once we hit our goal of being able to afford a car or a house or another watch, we make ourselves another goal that really means nothing. Chasing 1 million, then 2, then 3, then what? Happiness is not at the end of that. We chase things in life because everyone else is, but few stop to question why. And why again and again. So many of the developed world are caught on a hamster wheel, just trying to keep up, but going nowhere at the same time.

The way the Kogis looked at us those days will stay with me forever. The Ciudad Perdida trek allowed me to really realise the respect that I have for the Indigenous cultures of the world and the simple life. It woke me up to all the intangible things that I wanted to learn about culture, lifestyle, cooking, and survival. They might live a hard, laborious life, growing what they eat and trading for what they need, but they live every day with intention and fulfillment. And I don’t think I could ever write enough words to really express what I learned in those moments, but it has stuck with me forever, and I continue to explore to learn more about the Indigenous cultures of Southeast Asia. This pursuit has led to me visiting obscure places that I think everyone should visit.

Sailing around French Polynesia

I met two of my dearest friends on this Ciudad Perdida trek. We only spent 4 days together. I spent a lot of time reading alone, so I had a fews conversations with her and her husband. But a few months later, she reached out to me and invited me to go sailing with her, in Tahiti, of all places!

She and her husband have been sailing around the world for the last 6 years. Some opportunities come up, and you just can’t say no. Her directions were, “Once you get off the plane in Papete, hitchhike to the Pink Coconut, we will be there.” And then it was a month of living on a sailboat, hiking, exploring sacred sites, snorkelling, relaxing, and just talking. It was and still is one of the best months of my life. 

What I learned was sustainability and carbon footprint. On a sailboat, you need to calculate how much water you have to drink, how much food you have, how much electricity you have to charge things, how to MAKE all of this, and of course, where to get the WiFi. I thought I was a sustainable person until I spent a month on that sailboat. I use way too much electricity trying to keep up with pop culture, so I started reading more. In general, I realised I didn’t know a lot about how stuff works so I made it a point to ask questions and then do the research once I got back to Singapore. And it was really a lesson learned, what do you really NEED in your life. How do you separate what you want from what you need. 

Since that trip, I have adapted the way I travel and how I pack. Outside of my mobile office I carry with me, I really don’t pack much. I wear the same clothes. I minimised and simplified my toiletries. And life is simpler. All of this is applied to my regular life just as much as my travel life.

Talking to backpackers about their experience at the orphanage

Because of its proximity to North America and maybe because most of the continent of South America speaks one language, South American tourism grew much faster than Southeast Asian. There were a lot of lessons to be learned there, a lot of what not to do. One of the repetitive things that I kept hearing about was “voluntourism.” I met so many people who spent a couple of weeks to a month at an orphanage to volunteer. And after a while, I saw a pattern. These volunteers dip in and out of these kids' lives, and they gain so much more than they were actually giving. A lot of these volunteer programs offer free accommodations and Spanish lessons in exchange for teaching English to the kids. So what I saw was a bunch of backpackers feeling really good about themselves for having volunteered at an orphanage, but all I could think was, “what about the kids?”

Put yourself in the shoes of one of those kids. A new friend coming in for two weeks, maybe a month,‘ and then disappearing for the rest of their lives. To me, it seemed really unfair. It made me question the whole system of voluntourism. Let me be clear: I get that one month is better than none, but when there are kids involved, you have to protect their innocence and their well-being as well. People need to ask themselves, “Am I doing this for myself, or am I doing it for the kids?”

For Chickenfeet Travels, you will never see photos of children as marketing. And when we do manage to implement some English teaching schools, we will work with local adults with a passion for teaching, in order to diffuse the knowledge. And strict rules about volunteering will be in place.

Trekking up Roraima, Venezuela

I was lucky enough to travel to Venezuela before everything went downhill fast in 2013. Even back then, a bar of chocolate held more value than their own currency. I travelled there specifically to climb Roraima and to see Angel Falls. We were a group of 4 (my brother, my friend, a mutual friend, and myself), along with a team of porters and a guide. Trekking up Roraima, which is listed as the most stunning tabletop mountain in the world, is hard. It is isolated, it is far, and it is literally a rock. Generally with trekking and camping, you dig a hole and you do your business in it. On this hike, for the days we spent on top of the mountain, we had to poop into plastic bags. I bring this up only because there were a few groups of local South Americans who were climbing without a trekking company, without the proper equipment or knowledge. Presumably, they were trekking alone, in order to save money. The one thing I learned from speaking with the guide and asking questions through him to the porters is to ALWAYS use a trekking company. It does not matter how capable you are, it’s about paying respect to the location and the people from there. 

At some point, we all have to start to question how much of an impact we are having on a place. As travellers, we invade foreign lands, party, see things for as cheap as possible, spend as little as possible. But what do we get? A whole new lease on life, a full soul revival, energy we haven’t had in ages. In the grand scheme of things, these things are priceless, those travel fuzzies is what led to GoPro, Red Bull, Ethnotek, and so many more brands. But without paying respect to the place, we become part of the problem that creates a dishonest tourism industry. 

When you pay for things fairly and properly, you are giving someone a job. As a visitor to their home, that is the least you can do. In a place like Roraima, the only income for the local indigenous people is tourism. If you don’t support them, they do not earn a sustainable income; without money, they have no access to healthcare, they cannot afford to go to school, and the vicious cycle continues. We see this everywhere, it is whether of not you chose to become part of the solution and not just a bystander.

The other aspect is the Leave No Trace aspect. We are going into nature; we should have little to no impact on it. If you try to do it yourself or go with a cheap company, you will be adding to the problem as a whole. You might be one person, but if it is a popular place like Mt Rinjani in Lombok, where they can average more than 1,000 people a night on the mountain in high season (pre-earthquake). This is a problem. There is a reason why it is known as the Rubbish Walk. As travellers, we also need to do our part to have a positive impact.

Trust the locals

Time and time again, as I slow-travel and explore the region, I am surprised to learn about all the things that the internet is not talking about. I stay put in place for a week, and I become a “regular,” and then the magic happens. A local person will be interested in why I am there, and they will show me their version of a place. This person will introduce me to another person and then another. It is endless.

Now when I am on the road, I feel more at home than ever. I have met so many people, learned so many secrets by just being in the right place at the right time, meeting the right people. We have slowly created a network of guides that I am personally invested in seeing succeed on their own and with us. We grow together, we learn from each other, and we thrive together. 

The difference travelling a place alone without local guidance compared to with a great one is huge. Instead of chasing selfie spots and collecting photos, I am hearing stories and legends, and I am learning about everyday lives and lifestyles of the people that I meet. So when someone asks me about a photo, I don’t just have a short answer about how beautiful a location is, I have a whole story, experience to go with it and generally, something that I learned. 

The best example of this for me is the Ho Chi Minh highway. I had done the length of it on my own, using guides in each of the places of cultural significance or trekking was available. Then I caught up with an easy rider, where I rode pillion, and as he is yelling through the wind, his stories and his relationship with almost every kilometer of the days I rode with him, I knew I had wasted so much time and energy exploring it myself. There is a joy of riding alone, but there is so much more significance when you hear the stories of survivors of war.

This is what we try to recreate for our customers.

If you want to go somewhere, we get you there, but we also introduce you to local guides who will really show you the place. The holiday goes from just another holiday to one that is transformative because learning about how someone else lives is humbling and makes us reflect and reconsider what is actually important in our own lives.