I’ve been doing it for a few years, and I hate to break with tradition.

Here’s my list of all the cities I visited in 2008:

Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
Victoria, British Columbia, Canada
Waterloo, Ontario, Canada

Los Angeles, California, USA
New York, New York, USA
San Francisco, California, USA
Washington DC, USA

Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Lisbon, Portugal *
London, United Kingdom *
Paris, France *
Port Louis, Mauritius
Porto, Portugal

One or more nights were spent in each place. Those cities marked with an * were visited multiple times on non-consecutive days.

Here’s a look at the places I’ve visited in the past 18 months, courtesy of Dopplr:

Finally, here’s the 2006 list, and here’s the 2007 extended year in review.

Where have you been this year?

Most of you know that my work requires a lot of traveling. What some of you may not know is that I actually buy carbon credits to offset all the flying that I do.

For me, carbon neutrality is important, and I try my best to reduce my carbon footprint when possible.

To the first five people reading this post today, here’s a little holiday gift from me to you: carbon neutrality for the day.

If you claim the gift, Brighter Planet will donate 136 pounds of carbon offsets in your name to help fund renewable energy projects. From their One Day initiative site:

The average American emits 136 pounds of carbon dioxide each day. About 36 pounds come from driving, flying, and other travel. Another 22 pounds come from heating, cooling, and powering our homes. The final 78 pounds come from producing, transporting, and disposing of all the stuff we buy, and from shared services like schools and street lights.

Click on this link and submit your details to redeem the gift.

It may not be much, but one day is a good start. If you’re not in time to redeem my gift of carbon neutrality, you can still do your part by helping support organizations like Brighter Planet that are making a positive impact on our planet.

And of course, by reducing your carbon footprint.

What are you doing every day to reduce your own personal carbon footprint?

I’ve been a bit hard on Mauritius. After all, everything I’ve said about it on my blog or on Twitter has been a complaint about the lack of a fast and stable Internet connection on the island.

(I won’t apologize for the complaints. The connection was truly horrendous.)

I will apologize for failing to mention all the amazing things about the country: the warmth of the people, the beauty of the environment, the diversity of the culture, the richness of it’s visual splendor.

And Krish.

Krish runs a company in Mauritius called Vertical World. If you’re planning a trip to the island, Krish should be the first person you call.

Vertical World specializes in adventure activities, and is by far the best outdoor activity company I have ever worked with. Anywhere. If you’ve ever had the urge to go abseiling down waterfalls of scrambling up mountains in a tropical paradise, Vertical World can make it happen.

But Krish is much more than an adventure company owner. He’s also one of the most knowledgeable, motivated, compassionate, and dependable people I have ever known. Krish gets things done, and most of time he does it better than you could have ever asked.

If you’re heading to Mauritius anytime soon, give Krish and his guys at Vertical World a shout. You won’t be disappointed.

I’ll stop gushing now. Promise.

Mauritius is truly heaven on Earth. If heaven doesn’t have a stable internet connection, that is.

Sorry for the lack of updates. Not only am I finding it difficult to find a decent connection here, but I’ve been much too busy snorkeling, canyoning, abseiling, hiking, and mountaineering to really get to a computer.

Oh, and working of course.

My workshops on blogging and online networking have been going great. We’ve been using chalk on pavement to demonstrate the power of online conversation. It’s a great way to get people moving around and interacting with each other, and serves as an excellent metaphor for the online experience.

I’m looking forward to giving you all a more in-depth update on my workshops and on my trip a little bit later when I have a more stable connection. Hasta luego!

In high school, I’d hear stories of jet-setters who would be traveling non-stop for work, hopping from city to city, hotel to hotel, never staying still and living the fast-paced life. I dreamt of being one of those jet-setters, living the high-flying life.

I was seriously deluded.

As someone who now spends a considerable amount of time traveling — and a considerable amount of time living in unfamiliar hotels, crowded airports, and stuffy airplanes — I can now admit that the jet-set life is highly overrated.

My friends don’t seem to understand my traveling malaise. They keep reminding me that I’m getting paid to fly to places like London, Paris, Brussels, and Lisbon on a regular basis. They remind me that I’m getting the opportunity to meet new people, explore new places, and have new experiences, all under the aegis of my freelance career.

I agree with their perspectives, and am thankful of the opportunities that I have. My traveling woes are perhaps somewhat more melancholic: I miss routine, stability, comfort. I love the bliss of strolling through Portobello Market or having dinner at a charcuterie near Champs-Elysees, but I miss the sensation of being in control of my time and activities.

What am I talking about?

While it’s not exactly the same, Rosencrans Baldwin expresses a similar sentiment of his experiences in Paris:

No one hears you when you say you’re sick of Paris. Sick of Paris: three words that make sense to people separately, but not in sequence. And they’re right—what am I talking about? What about champagne for sale in gas stations? And aisles dedicated to yogurt in grocery stores? And grocery stores that only sell frozen food of such high quality that, when reheated, it beats most bistro meals? And my boss and his thousand Lacoste shirts in every color? And all the gossip and insights: how French men go to pieces when they’re dumped; how Parisian girls won’t sleep with you unless you have permanent residency papers.

No one hears you when you say you’re sick of traveling. Sick of traveling: three words that make sense to people separately, but not in sequence. And they’re right — what am I talking about? What about being treated to fancy dinners at over-priced restaurants? And staying at hotels I could normally never afford? And watching rugby in crowded and rowdy bars? And having a choice of various kinds of bottles of water at ever meal? And walking past the line at customs and walking straight to baggage claim after getting my iris scanned?

I’ll tell you what I’m talking about. There are a lot of things I miss when traveling. What about the luxury of opening the fridge at any time of the day and drinking milk straight from the carton? And the comfort of being able to do your laundry whenever you feel like you want to wear that t-shirt again later in the week? And the ease of going to the gym and working out some aggression after a long day at work? And the ability to call a friend at any time of the night and grab a cup of much-needed coffee?

This year, my travel schedule has been much lighter, and I’m much happier for that. I’m looking at new ways of slowing down and making my life work for me, instead of my life being work.

Next time you hear me complaining about my travel schedule, please don’t look at me in contempt. It’s just my malaise being vocal — next week I’ll be grabbing lunch in Parque das Nacoes and smiling at the ocean. Remind me of those times when I’m a bit fed up.

Even after a year where I traveled so much for work that I swore I wouldn’t get on another airplane for at least six months, I’ve once again been bitten by the travel bug. This time, I blame the New York Times’ list of 53 places to go in 2008, which makes every single destination seem so appealing I had to exercise an immense amount of self-control to stop myself from using up all my air miles.

After reminding myself of my vow not to travel extensively next year and really get to know Toronto, I started to wonder how exactly the New York Times came up with their list. What qualifies a city as a must-visit place? Good hotels? Interesting attractions? Affordability (I doubt it)? Great bars?

I may not know much about the NYT selection process, but having visited 26 of the 53 places in the past two years, I do have some thoughts on their choices and their omissions.

Great Inclusions

Lisbon: Of all the cities I’ve had the chance to visit this year, Lisbon has clearly been the standout. The weather is fantastic, the people are welcoming, the street art is intricate, the architecture is inspiring, and best of all, it uses the waterfront better than most cities I know. The Parque das Nações (featuring some buildings designed by my favorite architect Santiago Calatrava) is one of the best oceanfront neighborhoods I have ever visited, and the baixa downtown area is full of small shops and cafes that will keep you occupied for weeks.

Kilimanjaro: Sure, I’m a bit biased because I was born in East Africa, but it’s hard to find another peak in the world that has inspired more lofty literature. What the NYT doesn’t mention is that the peak of Kilimanjaro gives you a great view of Kenya and Tanzania and even Lake Victoria, and the cities of Moshi and Arusha at the base of the mountain are full of people that are welcoming and wonderful.

Northwest Passage: People are often scared of cold climates. When most people think of a vacation, they think of beaches in sunny locales, and not ice fields on glaciers. That’s too bad, because there are few sights in the world as breath-taking as seeing mountains of ice coming out of the Arctic Ocean. And maybe you can catch the Northern Lights while you’re up in the area as well.

Other great inclusions: Iran, Mozambique, Maldives, Oslo, Easter Island.

Questionable Choices

London: Having spent more time in London than any other city (not counting Toronto, of course) this year, I’ll admit that it is quite the lively city, with great cultural landmarks and attractions. What people don’t realize is that all that grandeur is accompanied by a sense of pomp and arrogance that permeates from every building and every street. Plus, why should people make a special trip to London when every flight passes through there anyways? Just take a few nights out on the way to places like Lisbon or Tanzania.

Las Vegas: Vegas is the one city where you can experience everything. Almost literally. The question I have, however, is why people would go to Vegas to see replicas of famous landmarks when they can travel and see the real thing. Want to see the Eiffel Tower, the pyramids, the canals? How about making trips to France, Egypt, and Italy instead of gambling your money away in Nevada?

Other questionable choices: New York, South Beach, Puerto Vallarta.

Egregious Omissions

Vienna: Tons of green space, city-wide wi-fi, amazing night life, and an architectural heritage that is mesmerizing: just a few things to love about Vienna. In fact, I wouldn’t list this city as a place to visit—it is definitely a place I where I would love to live.

Osaka: Think Tokyo is a bit too crowded for you? Well, Osaka provides less of an assault on your senses while still providing an intense and vigorous travel experience. The juxtaposition between the traditional and modern is striking but seamless, and you really can’t go wrong with authentic Japanese food. I can almost taste the unagi right now.

Kabul: Sure, Afghanistan may not seem like a tourist destination, but seeing how Kabul is now relatively stable and that luxury hotels like the Serena are cropping up everywhere, this might be the best time to visit the city. Kabul was always a jewel in the Persian Empire, and even now, after being ripped apart by war, there is a rich cultural heritage to be explored.

Other egregious omissions: Kampala, Halifax, Goa, New Orleans, Damascus.

I arrived in London last Friday a little tired, a little stressed, a little frazzled, and more than just a little upset. My flight from LaGuardia was delayed by several hours, I was still recovering from illness that was impeding my sleep, and worst of all, my luggage was lost and Air Canada was not being very helpful in trying to locate my bag.

Thankfully, that was the day I met Abdul. Abdul was my taxi driver that not only drove me to the clothing store to by new clothes, but helped me with my shopping, drove me back to the hotel, and waited in the car to drive me to my meeting after I was dressed.

Apart from the wonderful service he provided, Abdul was my hero that Friday for several reasons. First, he was able to see my distress and accommodated me accordingly: he stopped for coffee, he suggested places to shop, he let me take my time when I needed my time.

Second, Abdul made me feel like a friend rather than a passenger. He asked me about my troubles, he encouraged me to sit in the front seat, and he even helped me pick out a new sweater.

Finally, Abdul was my hero that Friday because, despite my dour temperament, he taught me so much in the few hours I spent with him.

See, Abdul moved to London from Afghanistan ten years ago to escape the war. He is still working on the paperwork to bring his wife and kids to London from Pakistan.

Through our conversations, Abdul shared some of his life stories with me, and through them I was reminded of a few lessons:

• There is no substitute for hard work. Abdul attributes his survival and success in London to the fact that he put his heart and soul into his work. Success is dependent on how much you’re willing to work on your task.
• There is a time and place for frivolousness. Abdul sees so many people who spend more on going Friday and Saturday nights than they make in a five-day work week. There is a time and place for fun, but it is important to keep it in context of your life’s priorities.
• Everyone you meet is a vessel for learning. Abdul told me that he learns something new from every person that sits in his taxi. Because of this, he sees passengers not as clients, but as launchpads for discovery and exploration.

In a few short hours, Abdul was my friend, sympathizer, and teacher. By the time I got to my meeting that evening, I had forgotten about all my travel woes and was ready for a productive weekend ahead of me.

So I’m writing this today to say thank you to Abdul. Sometimes kindness, compassion, and insight can be found in the most unexpected places.

I have just arrived in London after a great weekend in Lisbon. Despite being in meetings for the majority of the time I was in the city, I did get the chance to walk around, soak in the sun and the sights, and enjoy the over-thirty-degree weather that let me forget for a few short days that winter was on its way. This morning, as I got up and got ready to leave for the airport, the temperature had dropped, the sky was gray, and little droplets of rain were forming on my hotel room window. Lisbon was telling me that it was time to leave, time to head back to London.

So I spent a good chunk of the day in the airport and in airplanes, and arrived here in the Queen’s city a few hours ago. I’ll be here for about a week before I head back out to Toronto.

I took this photo while I was in London a few months ago, standing in Leicester Square, thinking about the past twenty-five years of my life. (I do a lot of retrospection when I’m away on business.) As most of you know, I was born in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania in 1982, and since then have called several cities my home: New York, London, Victoria, Washington DC, and of course Toronto. People often ask me which city I truly call home, and while I may answer “Toronto” most of the time, it is only because it is difficult for me to explain that home for me is a state of mind rather than a physical location. Toronto (a city I truly love) is a springboard for me — a place from where all my travels begin — but my home rests in a consciousness of the urban environment: home is not a city for me, but is instead the concept of the city itself.

Case in point: I arrived in Lisbon on Friday evening and was already giving directions to taxi drivers (in a city I had never visited before in a language I did not speak) that same night. On my first ever visit to Montreal, I strayed from the tour group to spend the day in cafes in the old town and then met up with the group without incident later in the afternoon. In Hong Kong, I had found free lodging in the apartment of a previously-unknown local within 25 minutes of arriving at the airport.

All this to say that I am at ease in the city; in the essence of the true flaneur, I feel at once intrigued and at peace surrounded by tall buildings, large crowds, sprawling roadways, and urban malaise. While I do enjoy the periodic trip into nature — my years in Scouting has instilled in my ethos a necessity to escape into wooden and leafy obscurity with relative frequency — it is when I am in the city (the larger and busier, the better) when I am in my element.

So as I stood near the plaque in Leicester Square that reminded me that I was 7495km away from the city that I first called home, I realized that I hadn’t traveled as far as those numbers indicated. Instead, there I was, twenty-five years later, standing in the exact same spot where my life had began: in the middle of a city, the middle of the city, the middle of horns blaring and investors trading and panhandlers begging and skyscrapers towering, the middle of a place that, in my glass-and-concrete-and-stone-encased heart, still felt like home.

The CBC just recently launched a new show to try and come up with the Seven Wonders of Canada. While I still feel the number seven is pretty arbitrary — would they have not been better trying to come up with the Thirteen Wonders of Canada to reflect every province and territory? — I do think the exercise is a good one. Trying to find the most emblematic physical icons of the country is not an easy task, but it forces Canadians to look at the world around them with more interest.

The judges have narrowed the list to 52 nominees, and are now asking Canadians to vote on what they feel best represents the Seven Wonders of this country. I’ve already gone and voted, but before you do, here is the criteria that the CBC lays out:

1. Essential ‘Canadian-ness’ - historically significant, character filled, valued.
2. Originality/uniqueness of the pitch and place.
3. Spectacular physical site or amazing human creation.
4. Ability to inspire.
5. Range within the final seven - diversity of location, type of wonder.

It may be easy to simply vote for the places in your region or the most renown places, but it’s worth going through every pitch to really make up your mind before voting. Here’s a couple of notes I jotted down for myself on some of the nominees (and do note that these do not necessarily make up my final seven votes) while I was trying to decide what, if any of these, were the Seven Wonders of my Canada.

• Manitoulin Island: The fact that one of the largest islands in the whole world is actually in a freshwater lake in Ontario says a lot about how the amount of fresh water in Canada, and how the ‘culture of the lake’ has influenced of every Canadian, particularly the many cottagers in Ontario.
• Niagara Falls: Sure, it’s overdone and cliché, but there are few natural landmarks in the world that are as iconic as Niagara Falls. Plus, it’s only an hour or so away from home.
• Northern Lights: If you’ve actually had the opportunity to experience this natural phenomenon in person, there would be no question that it is one of the most awe-inspiring natural wonders that anyone could ever experience. It doesn’t quite fit with criteria number three, but it is still truly amazing..
• Sleeping Giant: I spent a good chunk of my summer (for the Canadian Scout Jamboree) when I was fourteen across the lake from the Sleeping Giant in Thunder Bay, and it’s impossible to shake the image of the massive but beautiful natural wonder from my head. Plus, they made a song about it that is still stuck in my head after all these years.
• The Canoe: My fondest memories in my life are the times I have spent on water: kayaking in the Pacific or canoeing and portaging in Ontario’s provincial parks. The canoe was instrumental in the founding of Canada, and continues to be one of the best ways to travel through the lakelands of this country. No one in any other country that I have spoken to has such fond memories of a piece of watercraft.
• Montreal Bagel: My preference for the New York bagel aside, I must admit that I quite enjoyed a nice smoked meat sandwich on a Montreal bagel. And while I would argue that a poutine is more indicative of Canadian food, the Montreal bagel is still unique.
• The Rockies: The best (yet expensive) way to escape the Toronto smog? Take a trip to the mountains. The Rockies are breathtaking and mind-blowing, and provide some of the best views of the whole country. With a wealth of great mountain towns and amazing sports opportunities, visiting The Rockies is like disappearing into a small, and normally cold, Garden of Eden within Canada.
• Trans-Canada Highway: When we first departed Victoria at Mile Zero on the Trans-Canada Highway with the goal of following the highway all the way to the other end, I didn’t realize just how expansive the trail would be. Stretching across all ten provinces, the Trans-Canada Highway represents not only an achievement in road-making, but also connects people of different cultures, languages, and lifestyles from across the country.
• CN Tower: You might not think much of Toronto’s clichéd phallic symbol, but it’s hard to argue that’s its not one of the premier images of Canada. It’s what tourists come to see when they come visit — hopefully sticking around to see all the other amazing things we have here too.
• The Stanley Cup: You want to know why this trophy is emblematic of this country? Because nobody outside Canada really cares about it. Sad, but true: Canada’s obsession with hockey is a bit excessive at times, but because of it, the Stanley Cup really “belongs” to us.
• Confederation Bridge: You know that game where you lift your feet off the floor of the car for as long as you’re driving on a bridge? Well, you can’t do that without destroying your leg muscles on the Confederation Bridge. Spanning over 13km, the bridge crosses the gorgeous waters between PEI and New Brunswick, and as you drive over it, you can’t help but marvel at the redness of PEI soil and the shimmering ocean surrounding both provinces.
• Haida Gwaii: Before I had seen the nominee list for this CBC endeavor, the first place the popped into my head was the Queen Charlotte Islands. I may be biased because I studied anthropology out on the west coast, but there really is no better visible reminder of this nation’s rich native history than Haida Gwaii. If you’re up for a visit, let me know: we’ll grab some kayaks in Victoria and paddle up that way.
• Nahanni National Park: The fact that Nahanni is a World Heritage Site should almost assure it as a shoe-in for one of the wonders of Canada. Sadly, not enough people make the trip north to the Northwest Territories to check out one of the most stunning places in the country: the Mackenzie Mountains are a sight to behold and provide ample opportunities to explore them by canoe and watercraft. Nahanni truly has everything: glaciers, forests, lakes, mountains, hot springs, waterfalls, and a remarkably diverse eco-system. If you’ve never been there, make sure you visit, but first be sure to vote for the national park as one of the Wonders of Canada. Trust me on this one.

Okay, I’ve said my piece. There’s so many more places I wanted to comment upon, and there’s even more places I haven’t yet had the chance to visit, but my fingers are getting tired from typing. Your turn to go vote. And if you do end up voting for the CN Tower, head over to blogTO and tell them why you did.

Languages are funny things. I haven’t spoken French for quite some time (since the 11th grade, actually) so my command of spoken French is a bit rusty. Still solid, but I’m just in need of practice.

So as I arrived in Brussels yesterday, I was still asking questions and conversing with locals in English. Until something happened yesterday afternoon that made all my French skills come rushing back.

I was getting off the metro near the European Commission for a set of meetings when the man walking ahead of me on the sidewalk collapsed and started having a seizure. My first-aider instincts jumped in and I started doing the usual: clearing the area, verifying his vitals, and coordinating emergency response. It wasn’t until the emergency response teams had left and I was walking to the Commission that I realized that I had coordinated the first aid efforts completely in French. No hesitation, no stuttering: I spoke French like it was my native language.

Since then, I’ve been using French as my lingua franca here in Brussels. Funny how it takes one small impetus to bring something like a language back into your life.