Monday, December 5, 2011

Hidden City

When I was 16 years old, my father let me tag along with him on a business trip to Greece. It was my first trip out of the United States, in fact, my first trip out of the South. I applied for my passport, bought a travel security belt, and learned how to say hello, goodbye, and bathroom in Greek.

Excitement. Adventure. I was ready. Bring it.

When my dad asked me where I wanted to visit, my answer was swift and sure.

Prison.

Listen, I never claimed I was a cool 16-year-old. In fact, I was a geeky, weird 16-year-old. The kind who wanted to visit prisons on her first trip abroad. But you see, I wanted to see Greece, the real Greece. I wanted to learn about how they treated the outcasts, the criminals, the least among them. Because that, I imagined, was how I would really get to understand the place.

My dad, he didn’t get it.

But you know who gets it? Marcus Sakey gets it.


                                                                                                                                     Credit: Frank Pinc

On December 6, crime novelist Marcus Sakey will begin his series Hidden City on the Travel Channel. Described as Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations meets Castle, Sakey’s new show promises to take us to the darkest corners of our favorite places. According to Sakey, “If you only see the tourist districts, Seattle is the same as Shanghai. The real stories are in the shadows—and shadowy stories are my business.”

From the comfort and safety of our sofas, we’ll join Sakey as he rappels with a SWAT team, hangs out with South Side gang members in L.A., and learns to rob an armored car in Boston.

In the first episode of Hidden City, Sakey tours Chicago -- and gets pepper sprayed so he can better understand the Democratic National Convention riots of 1968.

Because Sakey is a novelist (an accomplished one at that), we’ll be getting a writer’s perspective on each travel experience. As Sakey explains, “One thing I’ve learned writing fiction is that it’s the little details that make a world real.”


So when the pepper spray hits his eyes, his reaction isn’t ouch. Actually, his initial reaction is pretty colorful. But then he gives us this rather literary description of the panic, not just the pain, that sets in:
"And in that dark space, panic’s ragged edge was so close. It sucked and pulled at me. It teased and tempted. I knew it would only make things worse, but that didn’t lessen panic’s gravitational pull."
With a perspective like that, Sakey’s show is on my Gotta Watch List. And who knows, maybe he’ll get around to touring Greece. If he does, I highly recommend prison.

What about you? Which destination’s seedy underbelly do you most want to see? If Sakey came to your hometown, what dark corner would you recommend?

5 comments:

  1. I love your picture of Librarian Fonzie.

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  2. I'm glad I'm not the only strange one out there! I have been to England three times, and I think the best time was when we didn't see any tourist-y type of things. Sitting around a campfire getting to know the people was so much more interesting than looking at Queen Mary's dollhouse.

    Thanks for the comments, and I will definitely be adding this show to my watch list as well!

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  3. Defined By Acronyms -- I was just in England and Wales a few months ago, and spent a lot of time in pubs just chatting with folks. I agree, much more interesting to talk with people.

    Thanks for dropping by the blog and leaving a comment!

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  4. Grandmaster B -- Nice (if obscure) Simpsons reference!

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  5. I remember sitting in the hotel bar where I was staying with my parents in Rome. At age 15 my parents figured it was alright for me to stay there alone with the young hotel clerk whom (unbeknownst to them) I had a major crush on.
    He spoke only a little English and I spoke a only a little Spanish but the was of little consequence that night.

    There was a large crowd of locals in the bar watching a soccer match between Italy and Spain. And when the game ended with Italy as the victor I burst into my parents room to announce, "We won! We won!"

    "Who is we?" my mother asked.

    "Us. Italy!" I replied. Because for those few short hours I had become an Italian girl rooting on her team with a dreamy hotel clerk.

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