How to become a flashpacker?

Basically, there are two ways to become a flashpacker. The first is natural evolution. A member of the backpacker specie gets a well-paid, steady job; finishes graduate school; or wins the lottery. Any of the above leads to conflicting thoughts that might eventually evolve into full-fledged evolution into the flashpacker specie. The second is a direct jump into the flashpacker legion. Wanderings souls who have dreamed to make the trip of their lives for many years but have never taken the plunge because they are too busy, haven't found a travelmate, or were too afraid to lift the backpack over the shoulders. Our advice is to take the jump. For once, take a chance. Leave your routine behind. Buy a ticket quickly, pack your things, leave a note, and start walking. If you overthink it, you'll never take the first step. One month on the road will teach you more about life than a year on a desk.

What's a Flashpacker?

flashpacker noun 1. Any traveler that is
tired of sleeping in a mixed dorm room with 17 strangers including five snorers and does something about it. 2. A person who has an obsession for knowing as many countries as possible and is willing to undertake financial risks amounting to up to $20 more than her/his fellow backpackers. 3. Frugal traveler, avoids obscene hotel costs and guided tours, mingles with fellow travelers, but aspires to her/his own room. 4. Former backpacker.

ORIGIN backpacker

Hanoi, Vietnam

It's 10:45 pm when we land in Hanoi. The immigration line stretches like a snake beyond the counters. Vietnamese officers dressed like their Chinese counterparts abound. An argentinean couple argues about which line they should stand in. We wait. Tired from the flight, we wait. It finally comes. We stand in front of the counter and get stamped. We ask about a visa extension when we are about to leave. The officer dribbles something on my passport and we move on. Onto the carousels to get our backpacks. After some bargaining, we sneak into a shared minivan in front of the airport and wait to be driven to the city. A dutch couple murmurs on the front seat. 10 vietnamese passengers get in and we are ready to leave. A dust cloud covers the outskirts. Motorbike is the mode of transportation here. 3 sometimes 4 (with kids) people can ride easily in one of these two-wheeled horses. The vietnamese passengers get off and it's only the dutch and us. We are headed to the french quarter. All of the sudden the driver stops and tells us to get out. Disoriented at night, we ask about our hostel that is nowhere to be found. Turns out the driver wants to drop us off with some of his taxi driver buddies. We argue. The dutch couple who has stayed inside the van comes to our rescue and tells the driver that we are a few blocks away. Back in the minivan. We finally locate ourselves in the Hanoi map. St. Joseph church is over there, so we ask the driver to stop. We get out and our dutch comrades keep on. We are grateful. Travel generosity is a bit uncommon these days. After a short walk, we find our hostel. Top floor, tiny room, no windows. Welcome to Hanoi.

Acommodations: Trying to forget