World Hum’s Most Read: Aug. 30-Sept. 5

What We Loved This Week: Jose Feliciano, Rub’ al Khali and Raw Oysters

Don’t Be Cruel: Traveling ‘Elvis’ Draws Attention, Groans

It’s Not Easy Being Green and Crucified

A Tourist With a Shovel and a Hoe

When she arrived in Kenya to volunteer with the Maasai, Daniela Petrova looked down her nose at tourists there to have a good time. But was her own motivation much different?

How Should I Spend My Time in Spain?

Vagabonding traveler Rolf Potts answers your questions about travel

Paul Theroux: Invisible Man on a Ghost Train

Jim Benning asks the author of “Ghost Train to the Eastern Star” about his new book, aging and the challenge of disappearing in the age of the BlackBerry

Eat Ceviche in Lima

Grab a Cusqueña and get comfortable. As Nicholas Gill explains, a trip to a Peruvian cevichería can be an all-day immersion in good conversation and raw seafood.

Unsentimental Journeys: Wrestling With Paul Theroux

Bronwen Dickey considers “Ghost Train to the Eastern Star: 28,000 Miles in Search of the Great Railway Bazaar”

My Travels, My Feet

After taking one too many headless torso shots of herself, solo traveler Sophia Dembling started snapping photos of her feet around the world, from the Grand Canyon to Red Square

Seven Reasons to Have a Foreign Fling

Sure, having an overseas romance is fun. But Terry Ward points out seven other benefits to cross-border love, mon petit chou.

R.I.P. Steve Fossett

Hi Mike:

I prefer to think of Steve Fossett as missing, presumed alive and running a scuba shop, or perhaps standing over the Great Australian Bight looking out over the mighty ocean dreaming of the hidden continent.

In the same way, I prefer to think of the Kennedys, shying away from the media camera and the slow drift of world events, as having flown off into the future, in a spaceship resembling a glass helicopter with a joystick.

Everybody should read Peter Fleming’s “Brazilian Adventure” and his search for the missing Colonel Faucett in the Amazon.

Anyway, here’s a poem for Steve Fosset: “Whatever happened to the traveling salesmen of yore/With one foot on your grave and one foot on your door.”

I bet on some of my extended trips, both my friends and family were surprised I was still alive, when I called periodically, then eventually actually showed up on their doorstep. What I was selling, was, nothing else but the world at a discount.