Once upon a time, there was little choice. If you wanted to travel, you had to engage the services of a travel agent.
Now, most people do their airline, hotel and hire-car bookings online, bypassing the “middle man”. But is it any cheaper or smarter to do so?
On the first point, it is almost always as cheap or cheaper to book online, especially when you shop around. When booking a hotel room, I often go first to a third-party provider such as Expedia, Agoda, Points Hound or Rocketmiles — or a site that aggregates many such sites — to choose a hotel. Then I go to the hotel’s own website to see if they can match or better the price. If the cost is the same, the trick is to work out who is going to give you the best deal on loyalty points. (The process with airline tickets is pretty much the same.)
However, the hotel itself is not always the best place to shop. I once had the absurd experience of sitting in the foyer of the Dusit Thani hotel in Pattaya, Thailand, where I had just spent three nights, booking an extra night over a third-party provider because neither the hotel reception staff nor the Dusit Thani’s own website could match the price.
But there are compelling arguments in favour of using a travel agent. The first is that all that online comparison is time-consuming and often confusing. Sometimes it’s more efficient and sensible to pay somebody to do the legwork (or, in this case, keyboard work) for you.
Also, if you have a good travel agent, they will be able to dig deeper and find bargains — and destinations — that you’ll never find. Many of them will also have valuable first-hand information and be able to offer advice that will add value to your holiday.
So, if you’re not a seasoned traveller — or even if you are, but you’re too busy to devote a few hours to your pursuit of a bargain– it’s more than OK to seek out expert advice.
One of the differences between travel classes on airlines is the amenities kit you receive (or don’t receive) on settling into your seat. Here’s a breakdown of the current offering in Etihad first class.
I was a latecomer to cruising, but I have really embraced holidays on the high seas. With nine cruises under my belt in less than three years, and another two planned already for the first half of 2016, I’ve learnt a few things about booking cruises and making the most out of them.
This is the first in a series of posts for newbies to cruising. Hopefully, I’ll encourage a few people to take the leap into unknown waters without hitting their head in the shallow end.
The truth is that all cruises, and all cruise companies, are not the same. All cruise ships are not, as one friend of mine put it, “floating working-men’s clubs” — although some of them certainly are.
There are a lot of different operators out there (although, ultimately, they are owned by just a handful of companies), and they target different clientele. They offer different experiences and in different price ranges.
The first thing a newbie has to ask himself or herself is: what kind of experience do I want to have? Do you want something familiar, or something exotic? By this, I mean, if you are, for example, British, do you want to be on a boat that sticks close to home and whose passengers are mainly also British? If that’s the case, you’d probably be looking at sailing out of Southampton or another UK port with Fred. Olsen, P&O, Cruise and Maritime Voyages, Thompson (TUC) or Princess.
Americans tend to favour Carnival, Holland America, Royal Caribbean or Norwegian (NCL), sailing out of various US ports, most of them in Florida. The Germans have Aida, the Italians have Costa and MSC, the Spanish have Pullmantur, and so on.
Of course, just about any cruise line will take your money and if you speak English — which I presume you do because you’re reading these words — you’ll get by on just about any ship. The difference will be that you may have to wait a little longer to hear an announcement you can understand, or — if you’re particularly fussy or xenophobic — you may have a problem with the food and/or the entertainment program.
Most modern ships in the affordable category offer similar creature comforts, but it is certainly worth Googling any vessel you intend to travel on to see that it has what you expect in the way of pools, spas, beauty treatments, casino, bars, restaurants… whatever.
Of course, you may be more interested in the stopovers than the ship itself. The ports of call can make all the difference. I’ll go into excursions in another post, but let it suffice to say that there are good arguments for and against booking the trips offered by the cruise operator as opposed to those you can book independently. From my many onboard conversations, I gather that experiences cruisers tend to do their own thing.
If you have a lot of money to spend, you’ll be looking at the high-end offerings of Windstar, Seabourn, Silversea and other small but luxurious lines. If money’s a little tight, then you really need to shop around.
I do all my own searching online, then book directly through the cruise company’s website, but you may find it easier to go to a travel agency or to use an online comparison site.
The one thing you should do is ensure that the experience you’re buying is the one you want. An experienced travel agent with a reputation to defend will do her or his best to steer you in the right direction. Websites such as cruisecritic are also very handy, because they include reviews from previous passengers.
A word of warning: some people are hard to please, have had an unusually bad experience or are malicious, so their advice may be tainted. Equally, others see the world through rose-coloured glasses and are so happy to go with the flow that they overlook things that make others angry. So, try to read between the lines and seek out several independent reviews before you are persuaded or dissuaded.
That’s enough for now. There’ll be further tips in future posts.
The latest (although now not so new) Emirates airline advertising campaign starring Friends alumnus Jennifer Aniston struck a chord with many frequent flyers.
Those of us who’ve been aboard American planes in the past certainly recognised the scene with the cackling cabin crew. For me, it perfectly underscored the difference between the established US carriers and new airlines such as Emirates and Etihad.
And before anyone accuses me of being biased against older cabin-crew members, it’s not about age, it’s about attitude.
One of my favourite long-haul flights was with Qantas, where I was sat opposite one of the crew jump seats and had a long conversation with a steward who must have been the age I am now or older. He was welcoming, warm and wise, and everything I could have hope for.
But I also have flashbacks to flights on United and Continental, where bags of peanuts were tossed at passengers by people with a palpable demeanour of distdain for their job and the passengers.
My in-air experiences with airlines including Etihad, Cathay Pacific, Air Asia, Qantas, Virgin Australia, Swiss, British Airways*, Air Serbia, Alitalia and Air Brussels in the past few years have been largely very positive, due to two factors: comfort and service.
It’s been a while since I’ve flown on a major American carrier, and I hear that at least some of them have lifted their game. I’m certainly happy to report that my most recent American airline experience — with Silver airways, on a tiny plane flying from Tampa to Fort Lauderdale — was excellent. The sole cabin crew member was delightful.
I do hope standards have improved across the board in the States, but the fact that Emirates’ advertising agency saw crew attitude as a vulnerability of American characters indicates a widespread public perception.
The reason this is so important to Emirates is that the American carriers have been lobbying against an open-skies agreement, accusing Emirates, Etihad and Qatar Airways of unfair competition.
I know there are other issues, but if training and encouraging your staff to be pleasant and helpful to your customers is unfair, then I guess I’m pro-discrimination in this case.
* With one exception, where a BA premium economy seat on an ageing Boeing 747, flying Heathrow to Miami, was remarkably uncomfortable.
I was sorry to read that more than 180 passengers on Royal Caribbean’s Explorer of the Seas were struck down by what the Australian media called a “stomach bug” on a recent cruise into Sydney.
I sincerely hope the inconvenience of being ill doesn’t put these people off taking further cruises. I feel their pain, because it happened to me during a cruise down the Suez Canal, but I can assure them that Royal Caribbean will look after them, and work hard to prevent a repeat.
I often claim to be a “citizen of the world” — which I am. We all are, and if more of us felt that way, then maybe we’d stop being unkind to each other on the basis of nationality, skin colour or religion.
OK, I won’t hold my breath on that. But maybe if we viewed the Earth as our home, we’d look after the planet a lot better than we do.
It’s becoming an embarrassingly common occurrence. I rock up to the terminal gate with my ticket in my hand, the attendant takes it from me and a little red light shows up on the scanner.
She presses a few buttons on the keyboard and then says: “Oh, you’ve been upgraded. And, just like that, seat 5E becomes seat 1A.
I’ve just scored a hat trick with Etihad Airways. For the third time in a row, my business class seat has been upgraded to first class. On a long haul flight (from Abu Dhabi to Melbourne in this case), it’s simply the best way to fly.
The experience was, of course, luxurious. The seat is huge, even for a big bloke like me and makes for a comfortable bed, and there was plenty of attention from the cabin crew, including the onboard chef, who made me a marvellous steak, — and, remarkably — the same person who looked after me on my previous flight, from Munich to Abu Dhabi (She said: “I know you; the last time you were wearing a very colourful shirt.”)
As I’ve written before, I don’t really know why I’ve been so lucky to get these upgrades. However, I think being happy to share the experience is definitely part of the mix.
So too are these common tips (after photo):
Etihad first class seat
+ Be polite and cheerful in all your dealings with airlines staff. That really shouldn’t have to be said, but a lot of people do get grumpy when they’ve had to queue, or they are tired or running late. I’ve done it myself. The trick is to try to snap out of it when you’re face to face with the person who can make your life more enjoyable (or miserable).
+ Be a frequent flyer with that airline.
+ Be flexible. I once got an upgrade and 20,000 Etihad Guest points and a US$300 voucher because I changed flights — it cost me all of 10 minutes in terms of arriving at my destination.
+ As I’ve already said, spread the word and say thank you to the airline, which is easy to do in this age of social media.
The only problem, as I’ve also said before, is that you might just get hooked on the experience.
It seemed like good idea at the time. I woke up about 1am with an urgent compulsion to write down a brilliant idea for a blog post.
Except that it wasn’t that brilliant and, as I should’ve expected, it certainly wasn’t original. Still, I think it’s worth sharing.
I must have been dreaming about Batman and how it was that his alter-ego Bruce Wayne could’ve built the bat cave under Wayne Manor without anybody knowing it was there.
Even if it was a natural cave in the first place, somebody would have had to build the access slides/lifts and fit the place out with all the tech equipment and furniture. Not to mention the expertise needed to design and build all the bat gadgets and vehicles.
Certainly it was too big a job for Wayne to undertake, even if he had the help of his elderly butler and only confidante Alfred Pennyworth. More recent tellings of the story add Lucius Fox to the Batman circle, but even if you throw in him and Robin, the boy wonder, that’s hardly a construction crew.
A quick Google search revealed that I was not the first person to have this thought, nor was I the first to speculate that Wayne had copied a page from the Pharaohs’ playbook and had the place built by slaves who were then entombed and left to die so they could not share its secrets. (Cracked addresses the details here.)
A few other theories are floating around. One that’s vaguely plausible is that Batman, rather than Bruce Wayne, commissioned the bat cave, and ensured that the workers were blindfolded on their way to and from the construction site so they didn’t know where it was.
Or, then again, maybe he got Superman to build it for him.
I stopped watching the American sitcom Two and a Half Men just after Charlie Sheen left the show in 2011.
Sheen may have been a pain in several body parts at the same time to the show’s creator, cast and crew but, to my mind, his character was the heart of the show. And Sheen is, in my opinion, a much better actor than Ashton Kutcher who replaced him in the series.
I also felt that the scripts had deteriorated from diverting, above-average sitcom fare with plausible plots into excuses for stringing together a series of crude jokes.
Anyway, as I say, my solution to not liking the show was to switch it off.
My favourite program right now — in fact, my only “must-see” TV — is the British sci-fi drama Doctor Who.
While the occasional episode makes me cringe, I’m generally enjoying the show, the characters and the direction in which it is going.
Others disagree.
I understand that long-time viewers of Doctor Who, which celebrated its 50th anniversary last year, feel some form of ownership over it, and have quite fixed ideas of what it should be about, how the central character should be played, what sort of stories should be told, and whether those stories fit into the canon.
Most of the online criticism I see — and some of it is quite venomous — is directed at showrunner Steven Moffat. Clearly a some people don’t like the direction in which he has taken the show, and they have taken to social media to say so.
Week after week, they deconstruct the latest episode and spell out exactly where Moffat has one wrong and why they hate them so much.
It would be much simpler for those people to stop watching. Unless you are paid to do so — as increasingly fewer people are — watching a show you don’t like is a bit like continuing to hit your head against a brick wall long after you’ve established that it hurts.
I know this is not particularly sophisticated advice, but it seems to me that some people just don’t get it.
I understand why travel advertisements often feature pictures of beautiful young people frolicking about in exotic destinations or relaxing in impossibly large airline seats. It’s because young people do travel a lot and airlines and hotels want their business. But these pictures don’t reflect reality.
The real money in the tourism industry isn’t made from beautiful young people, because beautiful young people generally travel on the cheap.
As I write this, it’s National Day in the United Arab Emirates. Most countries have a similar annual event, and the festivities are usually alike — there are parades and fireworks and music and speeches.
What makes things different in the UAE this year is that it comes just days after the first Commemoration Day, which honours those who have died in the service of this young — just 44 years old — nation.
The minute’s silence, and lowering of the flag on Monday, was a poignant occasion that reminded me of Anzac Day in Australia, and Remembrance Day, which is marked on November 11 around much of the western world (albeit under different names in some countries).
Remembering those who made the ultimate sacrifice is important for any nation; but so, too, is celebrating the way of life those sacrifices were made to protect.
In different countries, there are different priorities, but the common theme is pride in what has been created by human effort and maintained by the will of the people.
Wherever you are in the world right now, and wherever you come from, if you are free to live your life much as you please, and you live in peace, you should be thankful and celebrate in your own way. Too many people don’t have that luxury.
The subject of forgiveness has been much on my mind over the past few days. Specifically: when a person is deeply wronged by somebody they should be able to trust, is there any way back?
To make my point, I’m going to use some examples from the world of celebrity– but the principles apply to us all.
Director Roman Polanski was found guilty of the statutory rape of a 13-year-old girl in 1977, but fled to Europe before he could be sentenced. Now, a court in Poland says it will not extradite him to the United States, where the offence occurred.
London-based Australian musician and television host Rolf Harris, whose funny records and exaggerated persona I loved as a child, was jailed at the age of 84 last year for sexual offences against four female victims stretching back 40 years. The court heard, among other things, that Harris had had a long-running relationship with a teen-aged friend of his daughter, and that it had ruined her life.
Woody Allen, one of my favourite filmmakers, stands accused or molesting his adoptive daughter Dylan Farrow. But police, the Connecticut state attorney and child-abuse experts decided there was insufficient evidence and that the girl appeared to have been “coached” in giving evidence. That was in 1993, yet there are some people today swear that Allen is guilty.
Three well-known cases — and all of them different. In the Harris case, the court found him guilty and he is in jail; in the Allen case, due process was followed and charges were not laid, yet allegations remain. Polanski, meanwhile, seems to have escaped justice altogether.
In any case that is serious enough to go to court, the legal system plays its role in determining innocence or guilt and, in the latter case, setting an appropriate punishment. Sometimes the police, prosecutors, judges and juries get it wrong; usually they get it right.
Beyond that, the rest of us just have opinions. We can boycott films or rant on our blogs and social-media sites, but that won’t get us any closer to the truth. And, at the end of the day, when it comes to strangers, it’s really none of our business.
But what about an incident of actual harm or betrayal that involves somebody we know?
Sometimes the circumstances are opaque — nobody knows the truth except those who were there, and they provide different, self-serving versions of events.
When there are two “truths” to choose from, how do we know we have chosen the correct one? Do we have to take sides, or should we sit on the fence? But by doing nothing, do we embolden the perpetrator and betray the victim?
In any genuine case of wrongdoing by one person against another, we can, and should, offer our support. But only the victim can decide whether they will offer forgiveness.
This website wasn’t accessible earlier today, so I went to the customer help page on my host’s website.
When I typed in my problem, it came back with an automated message saying the company was aware of the problem and its “entire staff” was working on fixing it.
Really, I thought? From the CEO to the cleaner, they were all focused on getting this blog up and running. It must have worked, because here I am again.
A few months ago, I received an email from my bank telling me that they were closing my branch office and moving my account to another branch further away from where I live. Why were they doing this? “To serve you better,” the missive said.
Of course, I thought, it is entirely in my own interests that I now have to travel further — including crossing a busy highway — to get to my bank branch. If there were another reason — say, for example, that the current building was scheduled to be demolished (which seems to be happening now) — surely they would have told me.
These are just two examples of the simple lies we hear or read every day. From big corporations and governments to individuals, we are hooked on lying.
From “that looks great on you” to “no taxpayer will be worse off” or “this won’t hurt a bit” our lives are full of lies.
And the reasons vary from not being bothered to find out the truth to believing that a “white” lie doesn’t hurt anybody.
In fact, the average person lies 20 times a day, each and every day. (I just made that statistic up. It could be true, but it’s probably a lie. I’m no better than anybody else.)
The real truth is that nobody tells the truth. Not all the time. And when we don’t know when somebody else is lying, and we don’t care when we do, then we really do have a problem.
There’s no better way to make people switch off their attention than to start talking about road safety.
And yet, as long as people continue to die unnecessarily on the roads, it’s one conversation that we really must have.
I wrote this piece for The National in Abu Dhabi a few days ago, and it received a mixed response. Those who commented didn’t necessarily agree on the causes of the high number of fatalities, nor the remedy.
It is worth noting here that the United Arab Emirates has very modern roads and other infrastructure. But is also has an unacceptably high number of road fatalities — at a rate that’s four times higher than the UK, and twice that of Australia.
It is not unusual to see drivers chatting on their mobiles while they weave between lanes without indicating, at speeds much higher than the speed limit — which is, curiously and possibly uniquely, higher than the number on the roadside signs.
Occasionally, but not uncommonly, you’ll see an unrestrained child poking his or her head out of the sun roof while the car proceeds at full speed. And tailgating is so common you’d be forgiven for believing it to be mandaory.
Bad driving continues to be a problem, I argue, because too few people care enough to make the case against it.
As I say in the article, one of my primary school friends died in a car accident. So did one of my high school friends.
We cannot continue to accept this as a “normal” situation. In the UAE, where the situation is dire, some tough decisions about enforcement and education must be made. There and elsewhere, we must all strive to eliminate preventable deaths.
I used to work with a self-important, 60-something journalist who was of English origin but had spent many years working in colonial Africa. He prided himself on conforming to what he believed to be traditional British values — and one of those was the proper way to form, and behave in, a queue.
He told the story on more than one occasion of how a young man had stood in front of him in a bus queue, and that he had objected to this faux pas by “beating the boy with my umbrella”.
In his world, there was a proper way to do everything — and a place for everyone in the pecking order.
We’ve moved on from systems based on class and race, thank goodness, but many people still stick to the rule of etiquette that dictate that queues remain orderly. If you have to line up for something, you join the end of the queue and you wait your turn.
But not everybody feels that way. In many parts of Asia, it is a Darwinian exercise where the first to be served is the one who can make their way to head of the queue by any means, fair or foul.
It extends to the common situation in Shanghai where, despite signage telling them otherwise, passengers for the Metro will insist on pushing their way on to the train before allowing other passengers to get off. This, of course, makes no sense, it just disadvantages everybody and holds the train up.
My general attitude is that we should all take our turn. But, at the same time, we need to be sensitive to local customs, so I generally just shrug my shoulders when somebody pushes in. Getting angry doesn’t work when the other party simply doesn’t get it.
But, of course, even in societies where queuing is the cultural norm, the situation sometimes falls over. I’m thinking about waiting for a taxi during a downpour, when all bets are off.
P.S. I know the picture shows a row of bicycles. It’s the nearest thing I had.
Cruises are very polarising. Some people are obsessed with taking highly organised, low risk adventures on the high seas. Others, often those who have never taken a cruise*, would rather book in for an unnecessary and unmedicated session of dental surgery.
Like many people of my generation, my interest in cruises was first piqued by the fly-on-the-wall documentary series, Love Boat, which, from memory, was a kind of modern-day I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here, except on a ship**.
In any case, I’ve taken nine cruises in the past three years, so I guess I’m among the addicts.
Apart from a very short — just hours long — sampler P and O cruise in the line of journalistic duties several decades ago, my first ocean-going journey was from Barcelona to Dubai, via the Suez Canal, on the Royal Caribbean ship Mariner of the Seas.
Since then, I’ve been on other Royal Caribbean cruises, including in the Caribbean, and on cruises operated by Norwegian Cruise Lines (including a trans Atlantic journey on the fabulous Norwegian Epic) and Costa Cruises.
While each operator has their distinctive approaches — Costa is more geared towards Italian travellers, which is reflected in the great onboard coffee and the colourful interior design and entertainment offerings — what they have in common is comfort, conviviality and (almost) hassle-free travelling.
It’s hardly original but it must be said that the biggest advantage of a cruise holiday is that you only unpack once and the destinations come to you.
While I’ve been to some fabulous places — Tallin, St Petersburg, Giza, Petra, Ephesus, Split, Dubrovnik, Montenegro, Falmouth (Jamaica), Funchal, Valleta, Palma, Muscat, Miami and many more — I’m equally happy just enjoying the ambiance of the ship.
Boats like Mariner and the Epic (not to mention the new, larger ships I’ve yet to experience) are like small cities, populated with interesting places and people. On almost every cruise I’ve met wonderful people, several of whom I remain in contact with over social media.
Cruising is often promoted as a couples or family adventure, but I find it’s a pretty good option for a solo traveller too. It allows me to do the two things I like doing best: being on my own, and mixing with other people.
* Yes, I am aware of David Foster Wallace’s essay, A Supposedly Fun Thing I Will Never Do Again. I clearly disagree.
** This is, of course, a joke. But wouldn’t such a show be awesome? Are you paying attention, Endemol?
Footnote: If you’re wondering about the picture; it was taken from a ship I was on of I ship I’ve not been on.
One of the few advantages of getting older is that, if you keep up with what’s going on in the world, you can know most of the things younger people know, plus heaps of stuff they never will.
I posted those words, or some very like them, on social media a couple of days ago and they garnered a little attention — mostly approval from people of my vintage or older.
My theory is that an older person with all his or her marbles should be seen as an asset — to the workplace, to society, to the world in general — and their services ought to be greatly in demand.
But trying telling that to the untold numbers of people over 50 — even over 40 — who feel marginalised in a world that favours youth over all other things.
The adage goes that you can’t put an old head on young shoulders, but the modern reality is that people who actually know things are often regarded as a nuisance.
I received this email from a real estate agent in my hometown of Brisbane.
While it was a nice gesture to get in touch, the reality is that we’ve never actually spoken. Yes, it’s been that long.
The message went on to say that a lot of her clients had been requesting “updated appraisals” of their properties and wanted to know whether I’d like one too. I doubt the first part – real estate agents only tout for business when things are slow, not when a lot of people are contacting them* – and the second part simply baffles me. I don’t own any property in Brisbane.
A few months ago, I received an email from a cruise company booking agent telling me how nice it was to speak to me. I replied, politely, pointing out that I hadn’t actually spoken to her, I’d booked my trip entirely online. At least she had the good grace to reply with an email beginning: “Sprung!” She went on to explain that it was a form letter she sent to all her clients.
The thing about email and social media apps are they allow you to send personal messages to people you’ve never met and know very little about.
I don’t mind this tailored spam, because it’s sometimes amusing and it’s usually easy to get rid off. I may wake up with 50 emails in my inbox, but I can delete 46 of them within a few seconds.
What really bemuses me, though, are those poorly executed phishing scams. They are full of spelling mistakes and awkward phrases, and they usually revolve around a vastly improbable scenario. As if I really am the beneficiary of the will of the widow of a Nigerian army officer.
The disturbing thing is that they must work on someone, or they simply wouldn’t exist. As PT Barnum probably never said, there’s a sucker born every minute.
* On the subject of real-estate speak, I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard or read the phrase: “There has never been a better time to buy.”
In honour of its 95th birthday, Qantas has painted one of its 737-800 aircraft in 1960s livery. It’s strange to see those markings — complete with the winged kangaroo — on a modern jet, but it’s a clever move by the Australian carrier.
For many Australians, Qantas is a “lovemark” — a brand that we love because it reminds us of home. Like Vegemite, it may or may not be the best product in its category, but it’s ours.
Qantas has long traded on this phenomenon, which is why it’s most successful campaign based around Peter Allen’s I Still Call Australia Home, is best remembered and often repeated.
Of course, the big challenge in commercial aviation is to keep up with the competitors. Nostalgia will only get you so far.
Hopefully, the folks running the show understand that and Qantas will continue to innovate, find its place in the pantheon of airlines and remain aloft.
