Five travel guide authors offer a behind-the-postcard look at their job.
Carolyn McCarthy, author of more than 40 Lonely Planet guidebooks
What can a guidebook offer that a web search can’t?
The internet can be an immense resource, but it lacks an intelligent filter. Having a guidebook is the difference between bringing your whole wardrobe on a trip and packing the bare essentials. It’s not reading comments from people like your cousin Mildred who leaves the country every six years and just found the cutest café in Paris. It’s getting the perspective of the person who has been to 40 cafés in Paris, talked to locals and travelers, and curated that information.
What’s a typical day of guidebook research like?
If I’m in a city, I’ll go to hotels in the morning, when I can see guests checking out and eavesdrop on their complaints; restaurants at lunch and dinner; and other stuff between. Sometimes a tip leads me on a wild goose chase, which takes up valuable research time but can deliver big dividends in terms of new discoveries or conversations with insightful people. It’s both about observing closely and quietly and engaging with people who have intimate knowledge of a place.
What impact have developments like Airbnb and Google Maps had on the role of the guidebook writer?
I think guidebooks can coexist with the sharing economy and companies like Airbnb. Airbnb serves travelers looking for engagement more along the lines of a home stay. Travelers sometimes prefer the privacy, predictability, or services at a hotel. As for map apps, who doesn’t benefit from not getting lost? They’ll probably lead to guides with fewer maps, which leaves room to add other kinds of content to the books.
How do you reconcile the desire to share good information with the desire to keep a place secret and not, for lack of a better phrase, ruin it?
In some cases, I keep the secret. Not every place can withstand heavy visitation. Yet, it’s interesting—in recent years I’ve seen a lot of remote areas sitting on the verge of the kind of development, like mining or dams, that’s completely invasive. If tourism is introduced responsibly, it can give places a much more sustainable option than going industrial or having locals move to the city for work.
What does it take to be a guidebook author today?
Since your time and resources are always limited, it’s really a job for the jack-of-all-trades. One should be adventurous, curious, hard-working, flexible, good-humored, persistent, and detail-oriented. Often it’s about preparing for plan B, C, or Z. You also should be able to drive a stick shift, manage sketchy roads, read style manuals, and be game to talk your way out of, or into, anything.
Shafik Meghji, who has coauthored and updated more than 30 Rough Guides
Describe your first brush with wanderlust.
As a child, reading about far-flung places like the Himalayas and the Amazon, so different to my home in London, instilled a love of travel and exploration.
What’s a typical day of guidebook research like?
The great pleasure of writing a guidebook is that no two days are exactly the same. Some are spent entirely on buses, trains, boats, planes, cars, or tuk-tuks—or a combination. Most involve reviewing scores of hotels, hostels, and guesthouses; eating and drinking in as many places as possible; checking and then double-checking transport schedules, opening hours, prices, and entry fees; meeting locals, travelers, and contacts; and visiting museums, galleries, national parks, and other attractions. The best days involve hiking a new trail, testing out a tour, or uncovering a new route.
When writing a guidebook, how do you strike a balance between covering the must-sees and leading readers off the beaten path?
I try to judge destinations and attractions on their merits, regardless of how well known they are. There’s a great drive among travel writers, and travelers in general, to constantly find something new, and that’s great. But it can lead to amazing places being neglected simply because they’re popular.
What can a guidebook offer that a web search can’t?
There’s an incredible amount of information available online. Some of it’s really useful, but much of it is partial, paid-for, misleading, or simply incorrect. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and difficult to know whom to trust. Guidebook writers approach things from an independent perspective, experiencing places firsthand, sifting through masses of information, pulling together everything relevant, and making it all accessible and engaging.
How do you reconcile the desire to share good information with the desire to keep a place secret and not, for lack of a better phrase, ruin it?
Travel writers have a duty to encourage people to travel in a sensitive, respectful, and positive manner that, as far as possible, maximizes the benefits to the local community and environment. Sometimes this involves advising readers not to visit certain places or indulge in particular activities—climbing Uluru, for example, or going on an exploitative “tribal tour.” Ultimately, I try to inform readers as much as possible so that they can make informed decisions.
What does it take to be a guidebook author today?
Curiosity. Persistence. Flexibility. Stamina. A strong stomach. The ability to sleep in noisy environments on planes, trains, buses, boats, etc. also comes in handy.
Cameron Quincy Todd, author of a Fodor’s Travel guide to New Orleans and a contributor to Fodor’s Hotels
Describe your first brush with wanderlust.
I started traveling at a very young age: Central America, the Caribbean, long train trips across France and Germany. I remember asking my mom once why I couldn’t have an expensive pair of jeans, and she told me our family didn’t spend money on things like that: we went on vacation. When I was 12, she pulled me out of school for three weeks so I could go with a friend’s family on a Catholic pilgrimage to Ireland. We weren’t Catholic; she just thought I could learn something.
When writing a guidebook, how do you strike a balance between covering the must-sees and leading readers off the beaten path?
I like to follow a rule of thumb one of the Fodor’s editors taught me: what would I recommend if this was the traveler’s first and last visit to the place, and they only had a weekend to spend there? This rules out any places that don’t add to a traveler’s overall experience of a destination. I’m careful to evaluate any “musts”: Is this overhyped or worth it? Is there a less-well-known alternative that provides a similar experience?
How do you reconcile the desire to share good information with the desire to keep a place secret and not, for lack of a better phrase, ruin it?
The thing is, most places do want more business, and a certain amount of outside visitors can even enhance the atmosphere of a location. I include some local secrets when I’m writing about a place, but I’m careful to present them accurately: if the lines are long, if the address is hard to find, if the service is rough. The goal here is to attract only the types of visitors who will really appreciate such places. My #1 travel pet peeve is when tourists expect a place to adjust to their expectations. This is really how places get ruined. It’s fine if a certain trip or experience just isn’t for you, but remember that place means something to other people, long before and after your visit.
What does it take to be a guidebook author today?
There’s a certain balance between personality and objectivity. Expert, personal opinions are great, but when I’m writing about my hometown I still have to think like a tourist. Would they be able to get here without a car? Is this place worthwhile if it was my first time visiting? Would I enjoy this place if I were older, younger, had kids? Every writer needs to have a handful of local experts or good sources and be able to interact and ask questions on the ground level. The writer has to have a great respect for the destination. There’s no room for travel writing that condescends to a location or its people.
Lebawit Lily Girma, author of Moon guides to Belize and to the Dominican Republic
Describe your first brush with wanderlust.
I grew up overseas [Girma was born in Ethiopia and raised on the Ivory Coast], so travel has always been an inextricable part of my life. But that first brush with wanderlust happened when I was boarding a plane to England at 14 years old. I was heading to my new boarding school in Bournemouth and I remember the adrenaline—a mix of fear and excitement—knowing I was heading to Europe, a new continent, and away from family for the first time. From the ride to the airport to experiencing an international flight and landing in a new place where I now had to speak another language, I was hooked.
What does it take to be a guidebook author today?
Aside from the expected skills of writing concisely, being organized, and being observant, you need to have good social media skills. Instagram and Facebook in particular are a huge part of marketing a destination, with more people searching for travel tips and inspiration online and on these platforms. You should also have decent photography skills. As a guidebook writer, you’re expected to help promote the book, and might be asked to share images from the road.
When writing a guidebook, how do you strike a balance between covering the must-sees and leading readers off the beaten path?
I keep an eye out for the unusual places and things to do, but I make sure these are consistent before I include them. I want to know that a year from now this place or activity will still be there and still be amazing. There are no guarantees, but with practice one can almost tell right away what’s reliable and what isn’t. I try to keep it balanced by including those historic, cultural sights that are too big to leave out, and mentioning a few things that represent the essence of the destination and will remain with the traveler long after he or she has left. I always make sure there are places you wouldn’t know of unless you had my book, and that comes from years of living and experiencing the destination.
What can a guidebook offer that a web search can’t?
When you only use digital info, it’s hard to distinguish what’s accurate and what’s honest. With guidebooks, you know who the author is, and that author takes a lot of time reviewing places and giving an authentic take on them. As professional travel writers, they have a reputation and thus a vested interest in putting out their best work. They’re on the ground, scoping out what’s worth telling, and they save travelers hours and hours of online research. Lastly, guidebooks are always available whether or not you have access to wi-fi or the electricity goes out—and that is crucial when you’re on the road.
Russell Maddicks, who is working on his fifth Culture Smart! guide
When writing a guidebook, how do you strike a balance between covering the must-sees and leading readers off the beaten path?
The guides I’ve written focus more on the experience of being in the country than the nuts and bolts of where to get a coffee or what time the bus leaves to a specific destination. I always include the must-visits but I also include the must-eats, the must-reads, and the top words in the local language that will help you break the ice and, hopefully, tease a grin from the people you meet.
What does it take to be a guidebook author today?
The rise of the food revolution, the like-a-local concept of travel, and the greater cultural awareness of many travellers today mean that travel writers have to bring a greater level of expertise to their books. It’s not enough to list the best beaches and most splendid sunsets—I have to be a food writer, understand history, politics, language, and culture, and have an in-depth knowledge of such diverse themes as birdwatching and the etiquette of business meetings. Of course, nobody can know everything so the most important skill of any writer is networking: hooking up with knowledgeable locals who can share their insights with you.
What’s the biggest misconception about travel writing?
My friends think I get paid royally to be on holiday and that, when I’m not lazing around on picture postcard beaches or being pampered at luxury spa resorts, my job is an endless round of gourmet meals at top restaurants and boozy fun at cocktail parties. The reality couldn’t be more different. There’s never enough time to get everything done when on a research trip, and any downtime from a packed itinerary is taken up with writing and research or uploading posts on social media.
What can a guidebook offer that a web search can’t?
The secret, for me, is the author’s voice, which cuts through that avalanche of conflicting and confusing content you find online. It’s a comfort to have a book in your backpack or briefcase that can help you to quickly find your feet in a foreign country.
What defines great travel writing for you?
A great travel story doesn’t have to be based in an exotic corner of a far-flung country, but it does have to conjure up a place: the sights, the smells, the sounds. Nearly all of our most cherished travel memories include a personal interaction with somebody we meet. I’m drawn to writers who can capture that kind of connection and the essential humanity that binds us all together, wherever we’re from.
