Category: Informational

It’s not unlikely this will happen to you at some point in your life–whether they contact you through the mail, solicit by telephone or, like my wife and I, you make the grave mistake of entering in a “contest” at a trade show–you may one day have someone try to sell you a timeshare. For us, it was a flyer at a boat show that led to a phone call announcing we had “won” a vacation. That’s the hook: a free dinner, cash, or vacation… one time I was even offered a car. All we had to do to was spend a few hours at a presentation for timeshare opportunities–with no obligation to buy–and the rest was on the house. The woman on the other end of the phone line explained, for a few hours of our time learning about opportunities in the timeshares, we would receive two days in Orlando, Florida, with complementary tickets to the Universal Studios theme park, plus a two-night cruise to Nassau, Bahamas, and two nights in Fort Lauderdale. All we had to do was pay for airfare, pick a date, and everything else was covered. Seems like a win-win situation, right?

For the record, we had no interest in owning a timeshare, and little interest in vacationing in Florida, but the prospect of a week of warmth and sunshine after one of the longest winters we’d experienced in years had us hooked. So we were on our way. Thankfully, the timeshare pitch was scheduled for the morning of the first day, so we’d get it over with and could then get on with our vacation. As we flew south, anticipating the rides and rays of Universal Studios and southern Florida, we had no way of knowing what to expect from the intrepid timeshare dealers.

We felt as naïve as the rest of the “prize winners” when we arrived at the Welcome Center the following morning. The timeshares we were looking at were in Orlando, which may be second only to Las Vegas as the best example of hyperreality in the United States. It seemed fitting that the saleswoman took us to breakfast in Celebration, a real-life Pleasantville built by the Disney corporation, where people live in a “perfect” prefab town. All of the houses are Victorian and streets are flower lined with always-green parks running down their centers. Before it was establish, in 1994, the land Celebration now inhabits was wild Florida wetlands. But now the there’s a thriving community with its own golf course, town hall, post office, schools, and Main Street rife with shops, restaurants, and a movie theater. It’s a picture of the American ideal of 1950s post-War prosperity, surrounded by the new-millennium reality of modern existence.

We sat down to breakfast, and our saleswoman started making chitchat. Trying to be polite and accommodating, we had a pleasant conversation about our travel experiences and more. But I couldn’t help remembering our host was a salesperson and wondered if what my wife and I said now might somehow be used against us later.

After breakfast it was time for business. From behind the wheel of her company car, our new friend was busy talking up Orlando as the “premier destination in the east.” I imagined our next trip to this play-land city would involve a few small children tugging at our pant legs. Premiere destination? I doubted it. As I came to that conclusion, the car slowed down and our rep pointed to a group of three-story building that was a tree line away from the welcome enter where we started.

The buildings had the look of ski lodge-type condominiums. We drove toward them and I asked about the much newer looking ten-story building right next door. We were informed that those were “phase two” of the development that wouldn’t be ready to sell for at least a few months.

Before even looking at any of the units, we had a seat by the pool where our sales rep gave us the low-down on timeshares and their benefits. She focused on the theory of timeshare ownership, using a huge catalog of timeshare properties to explain how we could use our timeshare weeks to travel all over the world–Paris, Australia, Thailand, Hawaii–simply by trading our space and time in Orlando for someone else’s. It could all be there for our benefit, she explained with an excited smile on her face. She was effective in her manner: suddenly my wife and I envisioned traveling to all corners of the world and living in the lap of luxury by using our timeshare in Orlando as “collateral.” Focusing only on positives, our saleswoman flipped through the catalog to all the places we’d talked about over breakfast. She showed us where we could have stayed, had we used the timeshare system. I realized I’d fallen into her trap. My pleasant conversation over the breakfast table was being thrown back at me in the form of beach resorts in the Virgin Islands and magical marketing words like “ownership,” “choice,” and “lifestyle.” But the prospect of it was intriguing, which led us to make another crucial mistake, we asked a lot of questions.

To be fair, not all timeshare opportunities are scams or schemes. There are many people who own timeshares around the world who know how to make them work. But there are certain basic rules of “timeshare survival” that one should be aware of before spending a lot on a piece of property. The most important factor is location. There’s no use buying into a timeshare in an area that no one wants visit. These things aren’t cheap, but the benefits of having an apartment available to you in a location to which you’ll return regularly will help offset the money it costs to buy into the system. Likewise, you’ll want to be sure your timeshare is in a place others will want to visit, so the theory behind trading your timeshare to use someone else’s won’t find you washed up with no takers.

Also, be finance-savvy when looking into potential timeshares. Some sales reps will twist and turn the balance sheet of buying into these things until it’s hard to tell what’s a good deal and what isn’t. Pay close attention to the numbers and payment options, know your financial limitations, and never sign anything without taking a few days to think it over. Timeshares are ubiquitous–just because your sales rep tells you it’s a “now or never” deal, doesn’t make that true.

Back at the poolside, I started to see how, at a different point in my life, I could get a lot out of an investment like this. But it sounded too good to be true. I started asking pointed questions and received scripted answers.

The pitch is so quick and the answers so natural, there was never any indication there might be problems traveling where and when you wanted. They made it seem like a flawless system, which made me wonder, if it’s so perfect, why don’t timeshares fly off the shelf? As I worked her for more information, she kept working on me for more information she could use in her pitch. She asked questions like, how much do you spend on hotels rooms, restaurants, and vacations in general? This information is lifeblood of the timeshare sales pitch; the more you give a rep, the more he or she will feed on it.

We were still playing along because we had yet to see an actual unit. That’s when we were led to a two-bedroom condo, comfortable and roomy with the conveniences of home. The American Express slogan, “ownership has its privileges,” rang through my mind, but I knew amenities alone weren’t enough to sway me toward purchasing.

Then the real selling began. Our rep had been gauging the likelihood that we’d purchase from the moment we sat down at breakfast. Unfortunately she thought she had a live one. We left the model and walked to a large room filled with round tables surrounded by families with their kids crawling all over while their parents debated the wonders of timeshare ownership. We were now two hours into our tour and hoping a quick “no thanks” would suffice to get us out of there.

No such luck.

After rehashing some of the earlier information, it was time to look at the numbers. From our previous musings our rep had calculated we’d spend over $30,000 on hotels rooms and accommodations over the next twenty years. Then she told us the unit we’d seen had a price tag of only $21,000–less than I expected. But it seemed, because the phase-2 units were still under construction, the company offered a discount for the older ones. She promptly lowered the price to $16,000. This was the catch: the deal was good for that moment and only that moment–once we left it on the table, it would be gone. Immediately alarm bells sounded in my head. If this was such an excusive deal, what would have happened if we had come down in October instead of April?

Sensing trouble, I insisted there wasn’t anything she could say to get me to purchase a timeshare in the next fifteen minutes. Unphased she continued going though the numbers. There was the yearly maintenance fee of $305, and the financing at a hefty 17.9%, a rate that wasn’t openly stated on the numbers sheet she’d given me minutes before.

I was frustrated and she knew it. That’s when she introduced the mortgage “expert,” a guy about my age (30 years old) who seemed to have as much expertise in mortgage lending as I have in quantum physics. He proceeded to give us the exact same sales pitch our rep had not long before. We found his expertise consisted solely of extending payments beyond the original ten-year term, but at the same 17.9% interest rate. It was like being offered a loan by the very person who’d just stolen your wallet. He left us to think about it.

My wife and I thought about walking out, but they were holding our vacation hostage– they give you vouchers for each consecutive part of your trip only after you’ve endured a complete sales presentation. If we left now we would be stuck in Orlando with no place to stay. That’s when I realized, nothing here was free.

When our intrepid salesperson returned, she told us we would have an opportunity to see a unit in the new building, the one still under construction. This was the beginning of a very a dirty trick. They told us these units were a whole new “concept” in timeshares. She’d obviously sensed we were ready to leave.

For an unfinished building, it certainly appeared complete. There were people in the swimming pool and not a workman or construction vehicle in sight. After a trip up to the top floor to see the view of Disney World, we were led into a unit that was a step above the other, older, one. It was a two-bedroom as well, but there was an option to divide it into two one-bedrooms with a partition. This, she said, offered all sorts of head-spinning options: turn a one-week timeshare into a two-week “opportunity,” by using only half of the unit at a time. My immediate reaction was one of disbelief–she had moments ago tried to sell us a vastly inferior unit, and showed us this one only because we were unwilling to buy the first.

Back at the sales table, our rep and the mortgage expert were tossing around numbers that seemed unreal: $24,000 for the newer units; discounted to $14,000; and again to $9,000 for no apparent reason. Then they said we could find our own financing to avoid the high interest rate. Before long, I wondered if they’d just give us a unit for free. The whole procedure was seemed very unethical to me.

Their catch was this: as the price continued to plummet, so did the amount of time we’d be allowed to use the timeshare. Plus, the units came with confusing “bonus weeks,” which implied we could extend our time over two or three years to avoid paying the maintenance fee of $505 a year.

Lost in all this wheeling and dealing was any fine print that might unravel all of these “perks.” Dissatisfaction was written all over our faces, and finally, they said, they just wanted to ask us a few questions about the process, then our rep would take us back to the welcome center to pick up our ransomed vouchers. But this so-called exit interview proved to be the beginning of yet another sales pitch! A new rep sat us at a new table and proposed new deals before rudely announcing this was not for us. We looked at each other with bewilderment, stood, and left.

As the trip went on we would cross paths with many of the people who had been part of the same program as ours. We discovered their stories differed little from our own. Not surprisingly we met no one who purchased a timeshare.

The moral of the story? Don’t be completely averse to the possibilities that a timeshare might offer, but use common sense. Don’t fall victim to the kinds of unethical and heavy-handed sales tactics designed to make a bad investment sound like a one-way ticket to paradise. To use a cliché that’s earned its status as such: if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. If you have any questions about this story or would like more information about Travel Outward, contact us.

Backpacking has gotten more and more popular as a form of traveling, and for obvious reasons: for people going to multiple destinations, carrying gear on your back helps keep you mobile while having everything you need at arm’s length. But as more “nomadic” travelers are heading out in the world, the packs they carry seem to get bigger and bigger. It’s not uncommon, these days, to see people carrying backpacks that look more like skyscrapers towering over their heads, or backpackers looking as though they might collapse under the weight of their bag. Traveling light is one of the greatest advantages of backpacking, and packing wisely can help make your trip much more enjoyable.Over the last 10 years I have traveled throughout Europe, the Caribbean, and elsewhere, never taking more than a 2500-cubic-inch backpack with me. This small size can be tough if you’re going out for an extended period (more than a few weeks) or are traveling to both hot and cold climates. But even if that’s the case, you shouldn’t need a bulky 5000-cubic-inch pack or more, which–fully loaded–makes falling over easier than standing up.

Simply finding a place to store your pack for the day is much easier when you’re not toting all that weight. Ever try fitting a big internal-frame pack into a locker at a train station? It’s nearly impossible. And walking around a city for a day while shouldering that burden is not fun.

Below is a list of items that can fit easily into a small pack, with room to spare. Of course, the things on this list will vary depending on your destination, bur the idea remains true. Use this as a starting point.

Clothes:
7 pairs of underwear (or 1 pair for each day, if the trip is under 2 weeks; max 14 pairs)
7 pairs of socks (or 1 pair for each day, if the trip is under 2 weeks; max 14 pairs)
5 to 6 T-shirts
2 to 3 collared or over shirts, to wear on top of your T-shirts
1 pair of shorts (2 if you are going to a warmer destination)
1 to 2 pairs of long pants–one being jeans; the other, khakis or similar (or wool if your are going to a colder destination)

Footwear and Jackets:
1 pair of comfortable shoes (leather hiking boots are best as they can often be used as dress shoes, if going to a nice restaurant, etc., instead of wearing your tattered tennis shoes)
1 pair of water-proof (river) sandals (if going to a warmer destination; also good to wear if you plan on staying in hostels and/or using public showers)
1 warm jacket (if going to colder destination)

Extra Stuff:
1 umbrella (collapsible, make it as small as possible)
1 quick-dry camping towel (medium size)
1 headlamp or flashlight (headlamps might make you look dorky, but their advantages outweigh all else)
1 camera (digital, if you have it, with an extra memory card)
1 paper-back book (not including guidebooks; to keep you busy during those long train rides)
1 paper-back journal
1 pen
1 money belt (or a money/passport case that you can wear under your clothes)
1 water bottle
1 shower kit (that can be easily hung up)
1 set of playing cards
1 travel game (“Pass the Pigs” is a favorite of mine)
1 small luggage lock (to secure your backpack zipper)
2 medium bungy cords
2 key-chain carabiners
1 day pack/book bag (something you can bundle into a small size when not in use)

All of this and more will fit nicely in a 2500-cubic-inch backpack. And if your pack is a little bigger you’ll have plenty of extra space for whatever else you might want to take. But anything over 3500 cubic inches is most likely overkill–you probably won’t end up needing that much room. Bringing a lot of extra clothes is an easy trap to fall into, but most places will give you the option of cleaning a shirt or two (in the sink, shower, or wherever) and hanging them to dry in a pinch. That said, it’s a good idea to bring a small plastic container of biodegradable liquid laundry detergent.

Don’t leave home with your backpack stuffed to capacity, as that will probably be your best packing job throughout the whole trip. Somehow, repacking properly gets harder and harder as you go, so if you have a small backpack that is stuffed to the gills, then you should certainly upgrade to one a just little bigger.

Using bungy cords to strap extra footwear or wet clothes to the outside makes drying and packing a lot easier. (Carabiners can be used for the same purpose.) Chances are, most people will not want to steal your smelly shoes, and bungy cords are important for keeping loose items from flopping around and becoming a nuisance.

It’s understandable that many people would want to bring more gear than what I’ve suggested–after all, you can never be sure of everything you might need along the way–so if you plan on going for an extended period (several months), taking that big pack seems sensible. Who wants to wear the same clothes for 6 months, after all? But as with everything, you should be prepared to make certain sacrifices. Getting rid of some of the more extraneous gear will make touring a lot easier on your shoulders and back, which in turn, will make it easier on your state of mind.

Remember most big packs (4000 cubic inches or more) were designed for long-term expeditions in remote areas, where you need this added space for a sleeping bag, camp stove, food, and other basic survival gear. For most backpackers, these days, surviving means little more than finding the nearest hostel and hoping it has a bar. It’s amazing how much simpler, and more enjoyable, traveling can be when you pack light and leave the kitchen sink at home.

From the moment I learned that my six-week old son needed a passport for an upcoming trip to France, I knew that his mother, Beth, and I were in for a steady diet of headaches and laughs. The process, which I hope is near completion, has indeed provided us with both.Since the onset of this ordeal, I have tried to envision our son, Archie, going through French or American customs. While Beth and I are convinced that he is quite advanced and extremely gifted, I doubt very much that he could successfully answer any questions from immigration officials on either side of the Atlantic. At this point, the only things he could likely declare is that he enjoys sucking his fist and things that are soft and fluffy.

I am sure that the American government has determined with good reason that infants need passports, and in today’s world of heightened security, countries can never be too cautious. However, there must be some sort of happy medium between national defense and abundant wastes of time. I also know that the U.S. Congress has much to do, but I hope that in between attending six-figure fundraisers and distancing themselves from their former pals and sunken figures at so many scandalously failed corporations, the good men and women of Washington could alleviate some of the obstacles in obtaining an official document for a 12-pound, 26-inch boy.

Let me also state, that it has been my wife who has dealt with the bulk of the responsibility for getting Archie his passport. She has been the one to load him in the car and set out for the post office, photo mat, and town hall. I have principally been an entertained eyewitness to the entire process, but still believe I have a duty to share the absurdity of the situation with fellow parents and travelers.

Despite the blithe tone of this piece, parents who plan to travel internationally with their children should assume that the State Department will not share my sense of humor on the subject, and will definitely require a passport for any child, no matter how young or how cute. Parents should also recognize that with absolutely no snags, the process to acquire a new passport usually takes up to six weeks. I hope the tone of this article successfully suggests that a snag-free procedure is highly unlikely. There is also an option for “expedited passport services” that, for an additional $60, will deliver a passport in only two weeks. (I suspect two weeks is the government’s equivalent of lightening speed.)

Most of the information concerning passport issues can be found on the State Departments Web site, http://travel.state.gov/passport_services.html. Not surprisingly, the site is a lot like the government itself: it offers some guidance, without being completely comprehensive or totally insightful: it has decent potential, but fails in its overall execution. Much of the site is vague and incomplete, and it reminds me of Dan Quayle’s vice presidency. Sure, he was young, handsome, and energetic, but he also misspelled potato in front of a second grade class. The Web site provides some assistance on what parents should expect when applying for a passport for anyone under the age of fourteen and it should be utilized as a starting point. It details some of the whats, whens, wheres, and hows that are moderately useful, but are not wholly reassuring, in this quest. The site is teeming with references to official issues like, the Child Citizenship Act of 2000 and Public Law 106-113. And no governmental resource would be complete without a tedious list of numbered forms such as DS-11, DS-71, FS-240, and my personal favorite, DS-1350. I also gathered from the Web site that Archie and I should avoid places such as Iran, Iraq, Uzbekistan, the Kyrgyz Republic, and other inviting destinations. These warnings proved to be a tremendous asset, as I have since reevaluated my decision to rent a summer place in Baghdad.

As I wrote earlier, the State Department Web site did proffer some information that enabled us to begin our quest for Archie’s passport. The site offers a search function that determines the nearest designated passport agency. Besides most post offices, other facilities may include municipal buildings, clerks of court, and public libraries. We opted for our local post office, piled Archie and his countless travel accessories into our station wagon, and set out to witness effective government in action.

Picking up the application proved to be quite easy, but we soon realized that like an Internet IPO, the good times would not last forever. The first sign of trouble was securing a suitable photo of Archie for his passport picture. I do not know a lot about the world of fashion, but I honestly believe that prospective Vogue cover shots are given less scrutiny than were those taken of Archie. We tried to follow the guidelines detailed on the Web site, but were frustrated early and often by the minute flaws that disqualified countless photos. More than four sets of photographs were rejected, and my wife and I were left in a state of amused frustration. First of all, propping up a two-month-old child on a stool and getting him to face a camera is no easy task; Beth and I thought Archie’s unyielding cooperation should alone merit acceptable photos, but again, the government saw otherwise. One set of headshots was rejected because there was not enough of Archie’s head in the picture. How could that be? I pondered. The boy is almost all head and no body! Another pair was rebuffed on the grounds that one of his ears was not entirely visible. The last and most amusing rejection was based on the darkened nature of the background screen. The reason for the dimmer background, I protested, was due to my crouched and cramped body, which had been positioned behind Archie to support him while he sat for another photo shoot. Keep trying, I was flatly told. Luckily for us, the obliging staff at the photo mat joined in our obsession of satisfying the requirements, and worked industriously to help us obtain sufficient headshots. At last, with the stars properly aligned, we captured our white whale. The accepted shots did not differ vastly from the previous ones, but the postal inspector sanctioned our most recent submissions, as we inched one step closer to getting Archie his passport.

For future reference, you should know that standards for passport photos are generally not too demanding, except of course, when pertaining to an infant, and many of the regulations did not apply to Archie’s photos. For example, he does not wear a toupee, eyeglasses, or a hearing device, which the State Department compels people to wear for their photographs. Other photo conditions include the following:

• Pictures need to be 2 inches x 2 inches and identical.
• Photos must be taken within the last six months (not an issue for us, as Archie had only been on the earth for about 60 days) and show current appearance.
• A frontal view of the full face is needed with white or off-white background.
• The picture of the face must be between 1 inch and 1 3/8 inches from the bottom of the chin to the top of the head.
• No hats or headgear that obscure the hair or hairline are allowed.
• No uniforms are tolerated, with the exception of religious wear worn on a daily basis.
• Color or black and white photos are acceptable.
• Dark glasses and nonprescription tinted glasses are not permitted, unless for medical purposes, in which case a medical certificate may be required.

After completing the back and forth with the post office and the photo mat, the process seemed to gain some momentum and the inanity was reduced, although not completely eliminated. With our officially authorized photos, we tackled the passport application, which we collected at the post office, and it was reasonably straightforward. The Web site claims that applications can be downloaded, an assertion I found to be slightly dubious. I had a difficult time completing the process, and while my wife possesses stronger computer skills, I am generally adept enough to handle a simple file download.

With our completed application and pictures, our confidence was on the rise. We were fairly certain that Archie would be joining us on the trip, and we would not have to leave him at the kennel with our faithful dog Aggie. At this stage, the website again proved valuable as Beth and I learned what was needed to complete the process. Proof of citizenship for child and parent was a prerequisite for his obtaining a passport. To establish Archie’s citizenship, another visit to a government building was called for, so his mother set off for town hall to retrieve his birth certificate, which is the most logical document to use. Parents who cannot obtain, or do not have, a birth certificate for their children face further hurdles and additional forms that are detailed on the Web site. Beth and I were able to prove our own citizenship by providing one of the following documents: valid U.S. driver’s license, valid and official U.S. Military ID, valid U.S. government ID, valid U.S. or foreign passport with recognizable photo, alien resident card from the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS), or naturalization/citizenship certificate from INS with recognizable photo.

We then had to present sufficient evidence that Archie was our child. Given the fact that today, kids can now be adopted on the Internet, I wholeheartedly support this measure. Again, this was uncomplicated for us since we are listed as his parents on Archie’s birth certificate; however, parents without a birth certificate, and custodians or guardians should again refer to the Web site or call the National Passport Information Center at 1-900-225-5674 ($0.55 per minute, per call) to locate other acceptable documents.

Yet another step the government necessitates that I applaud is a consent form from both parents permitting the issuance of the child’s passport. I gather this is to prevent one spouse from leaving the country with the child/children without the support or knowledge of his/her partner. Obviously, this could be a valid concern when custody battles turn malicious. While I am fairly certain that neither Beth nor I is likely to grab Archie and join up with a band of Basque separatists, nonetheless, I appreciate this provision. If both parents are unable to appear together, there are other options available, including a consent form for the absent parent to sign.

That’s about it for the initial application process. Beth and I are currently awaiting Archie’s passport, which we hope will take him to France, and other grand destinations throughout his life. Since Archie will be just shy of his four-month birthday when he arrives at Charles De Gaulle Airport, it is unlikely that he will remember his first international journey, but I know that his mother and I will never forget it.

And by the way, I realize the last few paragraphs have exhibited some beneficial facets of the State Department, and our government in action, and I may have been too harsh in my earlier appraisal. I’d like to apologize to them for that ‘Dan Quayle’ crack, it was a low blow.

Editor’s Note: You’ll be happy to learn that Archie did indeed receive his first passport, and is well on his way to becoming a world traveler. Of course, he’ll need to get new one once he grows some hair.