John E. DiScala
TRAVEL EXPERT

Known to fans as Johnny Jet (johnnyjet.com), DiScala writes a chatty, inside-scoop travel newsletter that takes him, well, everywhere. And when you're on an endless quest for the best hotels, beaches, and parties, it's hard to call it work. Recently, globe-trotting travel writer TIM NEVILLE corralled DiScala, 37, for a commiseration session.

OUTSIDE: Are you always on the go?
DiSCALA: I log 125,000 to 150,000 air miles a year. In nine weeks last year, I went to New York, Portugal, Spain, Germany, Sweden, Malaysia, Taipei, Florida, Cancún, Texas, and Morocco. Tomorrow I go to Curaçao, then Miami, Brazil, London, and Cyprus. I once went to Hawaii for dinner.

Yet you used to be afraid of flying?
I was diagnosed with asthma, and my jackass doctor told me I couldn't breathe the pressurized air, even though I'd flown as a kid. She really frightened me, but I got over it. Small planes still scare me, though. Once after a rough flight on a puddle-jumper in Fiji, I didn't just kiss the ground; I made out with it.

OK. And you've stayed in some pretty upscale places. Most memorable?
The Treetops, in New Zealand. It's almost $2,000 a night, and it's incredibly friendly. The owner picked me up at the airport. We flew a helicopter to a volcano for a short hike and horseback riding, then had lunch on a 70-foot yacht.

So where does Johnny Jet vacation?
Home. I have a place in Manhattan Beach. It even has furniture.

ADVICE? Write about your trips and tips, even if it's just local stuff—travelers want that kind of info. Once you get noticed, you can start leveraging yourself.

Andy Corbett
SAFARI GUIDE

Expat Irishman Corbett, of East Africa Safari Ventures (eastafricasafariventures.com), thinks he may have lived in Africa in a previous life. Recently, MEGAN MICHELSON caught up with his current incarnation via satellite phone to talk about terra infirma, wily weather, and unhappy elephants.

OUTSIDE: You're a farm boy from Ireland. How'd you make such a giant leap?
CORBETT: I studied marine biology at the University of Wales but decided the marine side wasn't as interesting as the terrestrial. I spent two years training as a guide in South Africa. After that, I came to Kenya.

So where are you right now?
I'm in the Masai Mara. We're stuck in the mud, so we've been digging out.

Are you always digging out of sticky situations?
One of the characteristics of a good guide is the ability to adapt—and smile and pretend it's all coming together when really everything's falling apart. Last December, our camp got flooded. We had 20 feet of water in about four minutes. It washed away our tents, so we had to make a plan very quickly.

I bet. Any good wildlife chase stories?
Once, on a guided walk, some elephants caught the smell of us—a mother with a young calf. And she charged. The Masai spotter had a spear, and I had a rifle. He dug his spear into the ground and I fired a warning shot. That stopped the charge. Both of us were very impressed with each other's bravery. I gave him a nice machete, and he gave me a bracelet. I'm wearing it right now.

And how long do you plan to stay in Kenya?
I'm out here forever.

But you're only 25.
I know. I'm just a kid.

ADVICE? Sign up for a yearlong or shorter course with South Africa's Bush Academy. Check out bushacademy.com.

Mark Anders
FREELANCE WRITER

Surprised? Don't be. I've surfed with Kelly Slater, mountain-biked with Gary Fisher, hung out with Jack Johnson, drunk Guinness with Yvon Chouinard, hit the slopes with Daron Rahlves, skated with Andy Macdonald, and surfed a standing wave on Africa's Zambezi River. To name a few. Whenever people ask me about my work, I get a little uncomfortable. See, it's nearly impossible to respond without sounding like I am completely and incontrovertibly full of shit. But this is what I do. I'm 35, I live in Wilmington, North Carolina, with my wife, Ilene, and our two sons, and, basically, I come up with adventures, things I want to learn, or people I'd like to meet (a.k.a. story ideas), then I convince a magazine to pay me to go out there and do the "research." Sound easy? It's not. Freelance writing is an insanely competitive field. To be successful, you must pay your dues—pitch like crazy, be happy with boring assignments, and build your clips—and be equal parts writer, salesman, project manager, and idea guy. When I'm not on assignment, I'm writing, organizing trips, or cooking up ideas. And though I may not get rich (you might make anywhere from $20,000 to $100,000 a year), I've never once had to wear a tie or punch a clock.

ADVICE? Approach editors like you would someone you're interested in dating, but never be a stalker.
—MARK ANDERS