Or Bust

Funny Travel Photos

Posted on by Noah Lederman in Lost In Translation, Or Bust | Leave a comment

Ironic and Funny Travel Photos Cool Abayas with Spikes and Sequins Dubai

When we commute to work, let’s say, we’re not very observant. We multitask between phones and newspapers or we fidget with the radio dial and monitor our road rage. The same goes for when we walk around our neighborhoods. We’re more wrapped up with… Did you see what Bill wrote on Facebook? Did you make sure to retweet Jessica’s controversial statement? We overlook many worthwhile oddities and miss out on the myriad strange encounters that did not include us because we were occuppied. One of the reasons people experience culture shock when they travel is because they commit to being observant. In the past few months, I came across people, attire, tattoos, and the work of flawed taxidermists that made me laugh or left me befuddled. Here’s a collection of funny travel photos or images that captured the irony of our world. Read more

Travel Reflections: 2013

Posted on by Noah Lederman in Or Bust | 4 Comments

Walking to Buddha Cave Near Luang Prabang in Xiang Men Laos

2013 was an incredible year for me. It was the first complete year of Somewhere Or Bust and my travel writing brought me to seven states, four countries, and one house crammed with travel bloggers. I wrote for a dozen distinguished publications, including the Boston Globe, Islands Magazine, Virgin’s in-flight magazine, and Snowboard Magazine, to name a few and I also launched my first ebook, which you can still get for free here. (I completed my second ebook, Traveling the Cambodian Genocide, just last week and will release it in a few days…Stay tuned.) Read more

Jewish Christmas in New York

Posted on by Noah Lederman in I Ate What?, New York, Or Bust | 3 Comments

Jewish Christmas in New York at Mission Chinese

Every December 25th, Jews around the world take part in the traditional Christmas dinner of wonton soup and chow fun. This year, I decided to set up the Jewish Christmas Food Tour for anyone to replicate and conducted a test run at the start of November. Everything began swimmingly.

 

First, my food-tour-team stopped at Joe’s Shanghai and ordered two bamboo baskets of soup dumplings. The waiters were not happy when we asked for our bill after devouring the dumplings. It amounted to $12 with tax and tip. (But that’s how you eat on a food tour.)

 

But after Joe’s, much of the rest of the tour fell apart. Read more

New York City Taco Tour Part Two: An Eating Marathon

Posted on by Noah Lederman in I Ate What?, New York, Or Bust | 8 Comments

The Best Tacos in New York

Earlier this year, my friend Eric and I toured the East Side of Manhattan in search of the best tacos in New York. When my two Australian friends came to visit back in November, they asked me “What’s the best way to see the Village?” The question birthed part two of the New York City Taco Tour.
While most New Yorkers were uptown watching the New York City Marathon, Dave, Yvonne, and I warmed up for the New York City Marathon Taco Tour by jogging down the Highline Park. We had established two rules for this adventure: we could only eat at establishments that sold individual tacos and we could eat nothing but tacos. Even if complimentary chips and salsa were served, we had to be strong. Our goal was marathon-themed: 26.2 tacos between the three of us. Read more

Man Gets Facial

Posted on by Noah Lederman in Lost In Translation, Or Bust | 9 Comments

Sunny Isles Florida Sportfishing

My weekend in Sunny Isles, Florida was set to be a father-son-getaway. The tourist board invited me down and asked what activities I wanted to do. My father is quite content reading the newspaper, swimming laps in the pool, and eating a good dinner. But I figured, we should do something stereotypical of a male-bonding trip. So I selected the things most guys (not us) do on a getaway, which I think includes everything from golf to deep-sea fishing.

 

But when we arrived at the Turnberry Isle Miami, the weather didn’t cooperate and all of our manly adventures were cancelled. Besides one paddleboarding trip through Florida’s largest urban state park, which turned out to be one of my favorite summer experiences, my father and I did a lot of lounging at our hotel’s pool, walking the mall (in search of food), and getting shuttled around Sunny Isles Beach by a lifeguard. It was feeling more like a mother-daughter weekend.

 

I took another look at our itinerary and saw that our schedule was at least going to include a shave. Due to my slow-growing facial hair that forms into a near perfect goatee if left alone, I had never received a straight-edge shave at a parlor before. (It’s actually quite sad. As a high school teacher, some of my own students have five o’clock shadows by the time they have me for ninth period, while I’m shaving once every two weeks.)

 

When my father and I arrived at the mall, the lady at Bloomingdales, who had set up our shave, informed me that her barber had gone home.

 

“Don’t worry,” she said. “We booked you a facial instead.”

 

Our mother-daughter-weekend had hit its peak.

 

“But–” I tried to say.

 

“Look, if you want to do this, you have to do it now. My beautician needs to leave in one hour.”

 

“Beautician?”

 

“And I can only accommodate one of you. Who’s it going to be: you or your father?”

 

My father, who had already found a comfortable chair at the coffee shop outside of Bloomingdales and had nested with his newspaper, suggested that I go.

 

So I walked back into Bloomingdales like a sacrificed lamb walking to the altar.

 

“Come this way,” said the beautician. We passed a line of women sitting at the cosmetic counter, having blush and eyeliner applied to their cheeks and eyes, respectively.

 

“You’re not going to do my facial here, right?”

 

“Oh no,” said my beautician. She took me into a back room, near the bathrooms and sat me down in a chair. “Take off your shirt and put on this blanket.”

 

She exited the room and left me for about five minutes. I was used to having my masseuses in Southeast Asia ask me to strip down and put on hairnet underwear. So when this beautician came back in the room and told me that she was going to remove the blanket just a bit from my chest and that I shouldn’t be alarmed, I really felt like my self-esteem had hit a whole new low.

 

Pop my zits, squeeze my blackheads, chafe your fingers on my poorly-grown, two-week-old goatee that I was expecting to have shaved, I thought.

 

But then the facial began and, I have to admit, between the scents and pressures that she applied, it was quite… lovely. It was more like a face massage that trespassed to the neck and shoulders and chest.

 

“So,” my father said with mockery in his voice. “How was your facial?”

 

And though I enjoyed my treatment–yes, we call it a treatment–it wasn’t a question that I was comfortable answering.

 

Pre-Treatment

 

Man Gets Facial

 

When Man Gets Facial

 

Notice the glow. (I think this is post-treatment. I may have mixed the pictures up.)

 

Man Gets Facial

 

Editor’s Note: If you’re wondering how a man with an awful goatee can look somewhat appealing, it’s all about the shades. Tifosi Optics provided the lenses, which I’ve been using for the past few months for all my sporting needs, as they’re great for everything from running to volleyball. You can change out the lenses, depending on the light, and down in Florida I got to test them out during sportfishing and stand-up paddleboarding. They more than passed the test. I did, however, have to remove them for my facial. The picture below is what I looked like without my Tifosis on. (Mind you, it’s before the facial.)

 

Man Gets Facial