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Travel Magic - by The Travelling Fairy Dancer

Travel stories and information with a twist of magic.

Oh what a transient list this is. And everyone seems to have a different opinion, often depending on your own country of birth/residence.

A recent survey of hoteliers, by an online travel company, listed the French, Indians and Chinese as the worst tourists, based on categories such as manners, generosity and trying to absorb local culture. Russians have topped other polls and Americans are ever present, hovering near the most hated due to a perceived inability to speak quietly.

The humble smile has much to do with hasty judgements. Australians and Americans often find non-smiling people unfriendly, but, in many places, smiling at strangers in the street equates to weird lunacy. Simple variations of body language can cause mass assumptions among tourists.

Australians never quite seem to top any lists of the best travellers (often the Japanese do) despite being friendly and polite, due to a more than casual approach to dressing and a strange tendency to avoid the food of other cultures while overseas.

Personally, I've stumbled upon some annoying, frustrating, unhelpful and rude travellers in many countries, from many countries (including my own). Thankfully, people such as this have been few and far between and I can't pinpoint a theme in terms of nationalities.

And you?

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Canoes with a Difference

June 26th 2008 08:47

Darkness descended as we slid under the rock face, into the depths of an old pirate dwelling. Flat on our backs, we watched as our noses nearly grazed the rough surface, inches from our heads.

A semblance of light appeared up ahead and, just before claustrophopic tendencies took over, a hollow cave emerged above. We sat up with extreme care, quiet in the midst of tiny bats and droplets of water echoing as they fell from the craggy roof.

Gliding across water as still and as silver as an ice skating rink, we crouched again to zoom through another tunnel towards the sun.

A haven of emerald water, haunting insect sounds and lush mountains rising from the sea opened before us. Our guides, experts at steering the inflatable canoes we travelled on, burst into song and playfully splashed us, rocking the boats and dispelling the eeriness of the mountain's innards in explosive, happy laughter that rebounded in every direction.

Thailand's sea canoe experiences, this one in particular based in Phang-Nga, encompass adventure, extreme beauty and relaxation, based in a unique and mysterious part of the world.

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The Backpacking Chronicles - Edition 6

June 18th 2008 08:10

Shakespeare's Birthplace.

"As full of spirit as the month of May, and gorgeous as the sun at midsummer" - William Shakespeare.

To be in a town such as Stratford-upon-Avon, in the Warickshire countryside, England, whilst backpacking, is an interesting contradiction of sorts. Blessed with picture perfect scenes, like couples rowing down the river Avon, past romantic churches and dense, green gardens, the town has much more to offer than the novelty of being Shakespeare's place of birth. Such as: theatre, of course.

Desperate to see a performance by the Royal Shakespeare Company, we were consumed with worry over our inappropriate theatre attire. One just doesn't attend the theatre in one's cargo pants and sandals.

But, to match our backpacking wardrobes, we were able to purchase nose-bleed tickets, complete with wooden planks for seats, for a performance of 'Othello'.

I am a fan of Shakespeare, but even if you were not, the ability of the actors to portray the extreme emotions of this classic tragedy was extraordinarily moving. Apart from my own sniffling nose, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop during each, pregnant pause in the action.

To complete an experience veiled in unpretentious elegance, our hostel was a large, rambling Georgian mansion, complete with outdoor tables spread around extensive, manicured grounds. A perfect dream for tired backpackers wishing to bathe in the rays of the sun on the soft grass.

"Hand in hand, with fairy grace,will we sing, and bless this place" - William Shakespeare.

YHA hostel email - stratford@yha.org.uk.

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Shops, Crocs and Beaches.

June 13th 2008 01:08

Caught between a country road with randomly speeding cars on one side and a lush forest leading to the ocean on the other, I saw a narrow creek up ahead, blocking my path. With three crocodile sightings in the area that month, taking my chances on the road was preferable to stepping any closer to the sinister looking creek (which, without possible crocodiles, would have been a very pretty, shady watering hole leading to the beach).

The leaves were rustling loudly, making my head swivel rapidly on my shoulders, ready to run from an approaching man-eater. My issue was, even if I crossed the road, I would be faced with a very steep hill only a lizard could climb, therefore trapping me in anyway. My fictional croc, at this stage, was no where to be seen despite my increasing panic. Why had I gone walking on my own? Why hadn't I wandered down that beach path ten minutes back? Not that it would have mattered; apparently a guy had jumped through a wave and into a crocs mouth just last week in Cairns. Here, in Port Douglas, the ocean couldn't save me.

Only yesterday, I'd been traipsing around Macrossan St, eyeing off designer swimwear and eating gourmet lunch at Zinc Resaurant and Lounge. Reclining by the pool at the resort, I'd ordered cocktails before shopping up a storm at Marina Mirage.

Now, there were no shops, no houses and not another soul in sight (other than those lucky ones protected within the shell of a fast moving vehicle). Firmly regretting my decision to walk to much admired beaches off the normal tourist track, I decided to brave the creek and, after splashing to the other side in under five seconds, managed to survive due to the noticeable absence of any prehistoric creatures.

Almost disappointed not to be able to add to the daily round of croc stories in town, I breathed a sigh of relief nonetheless and continued on my way to a spectacular day of beach discovery.

Port Douglas, in North Queensland, certainly offers a variety of adventures. Just be sure to keep your eyes peeled for unexpected visitors...

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Reasons to love the Rain (besides breaking a drought)

June 10th 2008 08:10

Have you ever walked in a rainforest, in the rain? On a 7.5km trek at Oreilly's retreat in the Lamington National Park, Queensland, it was fine and sunny for half our walk before the rain decided to join us. Mostly protected by a thick covering of trees, we were less concerned about getting wet due to the incredible life the rain seemed to breathe into the forest. As the sounds crescendo like a wildlife orchestra, it's hard to do anything but stand, awestruck, and listen.

Sun, sand and surf can play a big part in travel, where rain is viewed as a soggy, dreaded intruder. Granted, many experiences can turn unpleasant with the onset of an 'activity destroying' downpour. But, some places simply suit the rain.

Scotland is one of them. The romantic outline of a castle, drenched in misty rain and coated in thick fog, somehow adds to its appeal more than a bright, sunny day ever could. When driving through Scotland, we rounded a bend and, across the loch, spied Eilean Donan castle on the main tourist route to the Isle of Skye. It stood in all its tragic glory before us and we were immediately plunged into a historical drama, quite simply enhanced by the miserable, yet dramatic weather.

From a 'high in the sky' perspective, rain takes on a very different appeal. Book a table at an indoor, rooftop restaurant and enjoy lunch while watching the rain as it descends upon you from the ocean or the mountains. From somewhere like the Q1 building on the Gold Coast, from 77 levels up, you almost feel like you're in the clouds, about to spill over with the rain as it makes its way south.

Or, you could just go outside and splash around in your gum boots, it really is just as much fun as an adult!

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What are the most convenient travel clothes?

June 6th 2008 07:16

One chilly, but sunny day in Paris, museums were explored, shops were ravaged, streets were traipsed and coffees were sipped. That cold, but starry night, restaurants were visited, wine savoured and floors of nightclubs burned; all in the same black pants.

Especially in winter, when sweating isn't such an issue, a pair of pants that serve day and night are invaluable. Crease free, stretchable and black are often the most useful.

For men, cargo pants with removable legs (zipped from the knee down) can serve a similar purpose for day to night wear.

Easy to pack, roll them or fold them twin sets (as in a singlet top with matching shawl/jumper/cardigan) also form a great basis for a day to night wardrobe. Scrunch a cardie up in your day pack to be pulled on over your singlet at night for an instant change of outfit. Like the black pants, it's all about the material so choose wisely.

Strappy sandals, providing they're ultra comfortable, are slim and light to pack. If you get the right style, they are perfect to convert from day to night as they're generally acceptable in most restaurants and nightclubs (with your black pants).

How many times have you been travelling and only worn half of what is packed in your bag? The trick is remembering what you liked wearing and leaving the rest at home next time!

If only I could practice what I preach...

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Addicted to the Indian Ocean - Maldives

June 4th 2008 08:21

Rubbing my eyes in astonishment, I nearly jumped from the speed boat into the depths of the fluorescent water, even though it was nearing midnight.

Pulling up at a wooden jetty, we allowed ourselves to be guided from the boat, drank refreshing, mint flavoured mocktails and walked the planks towards a sanctuary of pure bliss.

This particular Maldivian island was round - as stated in many fictional stories of paradise islands - surrounded by palm trees and dotted with quaint cabins. The sand underfoot was of the required, powder soft, white variety and the staff were effortlessly cheerful, helpful and friendly.

The difference between the Maldives and any number of 'paradise on earth type destinations', is, quite simply, the extreme colour of the water.

I was blinded the first morning I woke to the gentle lapping of waves outside our cabin door. I closed my eyes and the aqua sparkles were literally imprinted under my eyelids; so forceful is the brightness of the blue.

Without another thought, I pulled on a bikini (which I noticed a while later was inside out) and walked towards the heavenly liquid in a besotted, trance-like state.

At a pleasing temperature of 25-28 degrees year round, being in the water while gaping at the colour, feeling it caress your skin while breathing in the fresh, salty air is pure, addictive indulgence of the best kind.

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The Backpacking Chronicles - Edition 5

May 28th 2008 08:11

The Shower Scene.

Ever seen mould in a shower that is further encrusted with unidentifiable substances?

This experience could be commonly known as the, 'beware of showers in hostels and don't forget your thongs (flip-flops,jandals)', initiation into the world of mass-shared bathroom facilities.

An art form worthy of intense practice is dressing in a miniature cubicle, with wet feet encased in wet thongs. Never bring jeans to change into, it's hard enough getting into your underwear.

To bring, or not to bring a towel is always a hot, debatable topic for backpackers. I've seen faded to grey, holey, dirt ridden versions of such things, flapping in the breeze, attached to equally down-trodden (well, we actually like to say 'well travelled') backpacks.

I've tried the tiny, chamois version and decided it would be better put to use drying my shampoo bottle than my body.

Plastic bags are one of the most useful items to have in your backpack, especially to store wet objects you can hopefully wash and dry at the next destination.

Sometimes, drunken bodies sprawled on cool tiles can be a hazard if you get up for a midnight toilet stop. If stepping over them looks too dangerous, it's always better to hold it and try again later. The liquid substance on the floor is not likely to be water.

If you're an early riser, listening for the cleaners and going once they're done will ensure the most enjoyable visits to shared bathrooms, (yes, it's a rarity, but I have seen cleaners in hostels, bless them).

You also lessen the risk of escapee soaps landing under foot and discarded toothpaste from the stall next door running in between your toes if you get up before everyone else. Even thongs can't protect you from the toothpaste avalanche; avoid the end shower if it's on a downward slope.

Many people simply choose to forgo the whole experience. You'll know who they are.

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Holiday Romance

May 22nd 2008 11:00

Heart racing, stomach nervously churning and lips itching for another taste of foreign pleasures, you head out into the balmy evening air for an illicit rendezvous plucked from the very pages of a romance novel. Holiday romances are guaranteed to evoke strong feelings, often more so because of the foreign locale than the actual relationship. Warning, they can also end in teary goodbyes...

Some divine destinations for your own story to unfold:

Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic
A fairytale village complete with orange pointed roofs, tiny bridges over gurgling streams and a sigh-worthy chateau, this small town's labyrinth of lanes are perfect for romantic strolling.

Maldives
No matter which atoll you stay on, within a 3 star or 5 star resort, you are guaranteed exquisite, aqua water, powder soft sand and tepid weather designed for long, lazy days in the sun.

Venice, Italy
It's an obvious one, but obvious because of its mysteriousness. It is entirely possible to lose yourself in the dark, quiet alleys and within its history of masked balls, debauchery and opulence. Venice virtually bursts with the essence of romantic affairs through the ages.

Where have your romantic liaisons taken you?

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Autumn Magic in Melbourne

May 21st 2008 08:29

Amber leaves floating softly to the ground, brisk mornings and cosy indoor lunches all herald the start of the chilly season in Melbourne.

No other city hides its attributes quite so well, nor shines so much when they're revealed.

In the absence of a local with inside knowlege, it can be hard to find the inner city jewels that define Melbourne's eclectic culture.

The Melbourne tourism ads on television right now (with the huge ball of red string) portray an accurate example of Melbourne's glamorous, old world, yet cutting edge style.

When autumn touches Melbourne's vast, manicured gardens, it brings with it a mysterious air of quiet as if anticipating the freezing temperatures to come (whereby we all should be in hibernation).

Not so once you venture inside. Trendy establishments such as the Gin Palace (190 Little Collins St), restaurant Cookie (1st floor, 252 Swanston St) and nightclub St Jerome's (7 Caledonian Lane) pulsate with energy at all hours to provide relief from the frosty air.

Just make sure you ask a local how to get there.

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