John Harris Interview
This month Rob Savage took some time to catch up with author of The Backpacker, John Harris. They chatted about Alan Sugar, hedonism on Koh Pha‐Ngan, best buddies from Yorkshire and how life on the road really does change you for the better. Here’s what happened.
So just to warm up, who would you vote off the island first ‐ Alan Sugar or Katie Price?
Katie Price. Alan is better company and if I need a woman I can always call him Sugar.
As the authority who actually wrote the book on backpacking ‐ what does the term flash‐packer mean to you?
To be honest I never heard it before now. I reckon it’s either an American who packs a torch for their travels, a fashion conscious traveller or someone without much time. I’ve seen all three.
One Japanese bloke I met in Laos had five (YES FIVE) back up torches.
Lars Holm, a Swedish backpacker who looked exactly like Bruno, swore he replaced his whole wardrobe in every country he visited. He looked pretty flash.
As for rapido backpackers you can’t beat the Hong Kong Chinese who usually do all of Europe in a 12 day package. Two countries in a day? No problem. My ex Hong Kong girlfriend did it with her friend ‐ nine countries in 12 days, including flying in and out. When she showed me the holiday photos it looked like they’d stood on the same spot and a series of cardboard film sets had been wheeled on and placed behind them. Same pose, different background. What about meeting locals, socialising,
soaking up the culture, I asked. Bah, who needs it, she said. So Hong Kong.
My favourite character in The Backpacker has to be Rick. How would you sum him up in less than ten words?
Trustworthy. Yorkshire‐man. Weak willed. High libido. Gullible. Funny. Hedonist.
Now in as many words as you like ‐ sum up Rick.
Rick’s given me the best, most unconditional friendship I’ll ever know. Does that make him sound like a dog? He won’t mind. Like anyone he’s been formed by his upbringing. The son of a rootless RAF man, he grew up in Singapore then Yorkshire ‐ Bridlington to be precise. He left school early and jumped on a trawler, earning a living as a fisherman. I guess memories of exotic parts were never far from his mind and getting on a boat was a way of escaping that small island.
His spontaneity is what I wish I had more of, that and his lack of cynicism. He’s also selfless to a fault, but that has gone against him many times. He trusts people too much and it has led us into serious scrapes on many occasions, some of them nearly fatal. Those mad situations in the book are only half the story. He has always lived for the moment.
I remember when his dad died. We were in Pakembaru in Indonesia on our way into the Sumatran jungle. We’d heard from locals about an old head hunting tribe that still existed and cried: “Let’s buy dried, shrunken heads, sell them to millionaires in the west and make our fortune!”
He phoned his sister to say goodbye and that we we’re going to disappear for a few days, but got the bad news about his dad. He immediately spent the few dollars we had left on a prostitute to numb the pain. The next day we didn’t even have the money to get on the truck south.
The day he saved my life in that India railway station toilet has to be the weirdest introduction ever, but we got along so well after. And although Rick’s different to me in many ways there’s a basic meeting of minds. Very often we’ll be sitting outside a café and see a passerby do something totally trivial, like run their hand through their hair. We’ll look at each other and both burst out laughing.
What would you do if left to your own devices in a completely cut off pacific isle ‐ with only Paris Hilton and a gun for company?
I’d hide the gun and enjoy myself. She just needs a firm hand. Then, when she goes nuts I’d blow her head off and eat her. Imagine ‐ she’s been raised on a diet of caviar and fine wine. It’d be like eating Kobe beef!
Without restriction, share your most hedonistic tale from your time on Koh Pha‐Ngan.
There were many. Carl’s (Dave in the book) suggestion that we film our life was one of them. Actually it was the brainchild of a mad Aussie, avant‐garde film maker who turned up one day ‐ a man whose name I daren’t mention because he’s now a famous Director.
He and Carl were dead serious and we set about making this documentary. Very quickly it turned into a no holds barred ‐ free form film ‐ as the Aussie liked to call it: “Yes, boys, yes, go with the flow. Go with the flow!” I’d call it a porn flick. The story was something about three backpackers who get lost in paradise and are captured by a village of nimphos. You know that old chestnut? At least they weren’t cannibals. It was just the Aussie’s way of getting his rocks off ‐ I think. We all enjoyed it. God knows what happened to the tapes …
I still rate burning our return tickets was the most hedonistic thing, though. It doesn’t sound like much but when we vowed no going back, we meant it. And we still haven’t returned. It crystallised everything we felt in our hearts.
What are you currently occupying yourself with and where abouts in the world are you doing it?
I’m now in Dubai earning a living. Been here a year running a building consultancy. The place is full of Russian hookers: “You vant I fug you boom boom?” and estate agents who really shaft you, boom boom!
I don’t really like the place but it’s something different and I’m always up for that. It’s certainly different to my last job as a private investigator in China, uncovering factories that manufactured fake Superglue: “Before I show factory, Mr Harry, let me show you how much strong is grue.” Rick was over last week from Hong Kong.
Vegemite or Marmite?
Marmite on toast with ginger jam and a banana. East meets West on a slice of toast. Sorted.
Here’s a question I ask all my interviewees ‐ what are your top five books of all time, travel related or not?
- Seven Pillars of Wisdom by T.E Lawrence
- Mosquito Coast by Paul Theroux
- The God of Small Things by Arundathi Roy
- A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson
- The Quiet American by Graeme Green
If you were to be remembered for centuries to come by just one mantra, what would said mantra be and why?
Don’t be afraid of your freedom.
It really saddens me to hear young people citing job security or their mortgage as a reason not to travel the world. I think it’s fear that stops people from exploring this beautiful planet we live on. By the time we leave school we’re all conditioned to get a job, start the consumer cycle and accumulate possessions.
Unfortunately the things we own end up owning us. They numb us of what really excites our senses and we start to build barricades of crap around ourselves. We become insular and the thought of leaving behind the safety makes us fearful. Who cares what car you own or what house you have ‐ it’s just stuff. Sooner or later you’re going to explode with frustration.
Also it’s the best and only way to meet people ‐ when their barriers are down. I met Rick travelling in India and I don’t think it could have come about any other way. That’s why leaving your home is so important. You have a much greater chance of meeting like minded people that way. Travellers always ask me ‐ what’s the best place I’ve been to? I always give the same reply ‐ it’s never the country, it’s the people you meet. It completely forms your view of a place, whether you realise it or not. Think about the best countries you’ve been to and I bet it’s linked to the best times ‐ which means the best company!
I’ve been to stunning islands in The Maldives and had a terrible time. I’ve been to shit holes in India and been laughing non stop. But no one would say Delhi is more beautiful than the Maldives.
All I can do is tell people they have all their life to settle down. As for work, well I’ve been away for 15 years and always found a way to make a living ‐ all over the world. Trust me, you won’t regret it. If you stay in one place I can guarantee you ‐ it will come back to haunt you later in life.
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Backpacker interesting interview