Global Travel Writers: Articles

Royal Treatment

Mon, 09 Mar 2009 08:38:00 -0400

�More coffee?� A waiter hovers at my elbow, ready to whisk my empty cup away.

It�s tempting, but my Arbroath smokies (locally smoked haddock) are coming. I have already done justice to a big bowl of oatmeal laced with the chef�s secret ingredient. What is it? I ask. The same waiter bends towards me, �Highland whisky liqueur,� he whispers back with a grin.

This would not be remarkable � just another top hotel brekkie, really � except we are travelling on an Orient Express train, the Royal Scotsman, rattling past one of the best breakfast views on earth.

Beside us lies Loch Carron with the white houses of the tiny village of Plockton (setting for the TV series Hamish Macbeth) just blotching into the distance. Metres away the water is silky in the early morning light. Feathers of mist still cling to the nearest pine-covered hilltops. This is the land of Scotland�s bard � Robbie Burns' country.

Robert Burns was born in the far south of Scotland, yet his ghost seems to stride the highlands. As the Royal Scotsman clicketty-clacks over the countryside he knew so well, it's hard not to hum Auld Lang Syne. Determined that 'old acquaintance should not be forgotten' Scottish Tourism has designated this year, 2009, the 250th anniversary of his birth, Homecoming Scotland.

Even boarding the train had been exciting. After meeting in the First Class Lounge at Edinburgh�s Waverley station we were led to the platform by our host, an urbane ex-army officer, on-hand specifically to be our guide and group companion.

On the red carpet stood a busby-topped bagpiper, clad in full tartan, his cheeks bursting. Scotland�s unique soundtrack filled the cavernous station as he piped us aboard.

That�s just the beginning of this story. Castles, lochs, distilleries, a knees-up ceilidh, and more food and wine (and whisky!) than you could shake a bagpipe at.

A trip on the Royal Scotsman is a perfect blend of past and present as you and your select group of fellow-passengers clicketty-clack along the rails.

Five-star amenities, attentive staff. That�s what wins people. Royal treatment, all the way.

�Sally Hammond 2009
Story runs to around 1000 words, but can be adapted to length required. Factfile updated when story is commissioned.
Pictures available.

Life in the Round

Tue, 10 Feb 2009 07:27:00 -0500

You can�t really blame the US surveillance satellites. Or rather those monitoring them. After all, these strange square and ring-shaped structures looked sinister. Especially when you consider they were hidden in valleys directly inland from Taiwan � and it was 1985, the height of the Cold War.

Believing they had discovered a �group nuclear base�, the US sent in spies who trekked south and inland to photograph the evidence, only to swiftly leave again, embarrassed.

No doubt on entering each �reactor� they were offered noodles and cabbage. The only offensive weapons they discovered were knives used to dispatch chickens and pigs; ducklings scratched on the clay floors of the four-storey earthen fortresses, and tea and persimmons lay drying in the sunshine outside.

The peaceful inhabitants had already lived here for hundreds of years. They had come from the north seeking safety, and war was the furthest thing from their minds.

To visit a �tulou�, one of 1500 added to the UNESCO World Heritage list last year, is to step through a portal into another culture, another time zone. Big enough for up to a thousand people, these �houses� are complete villages, compact and efficient.

Sally & Gordon Hammond visited here late 2008.

�Sally Hammond 2009
Pictures: Gordon Hammond

The Bird Men of Singapore

Sun, 04 May 2008 22:33:00 -0400

Joe had twenty birds once. Little silver-eyes. You know the sort. The ones we chase away from our fruit trees, but in Singapore they�re called Malaysian honey-birds and are highly prized because of their beautiful singing voices.
Now he has only three, Joe tells me, saddening as he does, so I try to match his mood. We�re standing, talking, underneath a hundred or so noisy, twittering, chirping birds, their bamboo cages hooked-up almost touching each other in the shade of a massive tree. Just metres away Singapore's early Sunday morning traffic thunders past in the still-cool sunlight.
To get the idea of what�s going on, you have to watch the men arriving, cages cloaked lest the timid small birds die of fright on the journey � no wonder, some come on the back of a motorbike � and see them gently elevated to position on a hook under the pergola; watch how tenderly these Chinese men, some of them positively ancient, fuss and croon over them.

(finishes . .) To get here just locate your nearest MRT station. This is the superfast, super-clean, super-safe train system that links all of Singapore. Head for Tiong Bahru. A short suburban walk from the station brings you to the corner of Tiong Bahru Road and Seng Poh Road, and there you'll see it, an unassuming row of shop-houses with a corner cafe. Wander in, nod to the locals, buy a coffee, sit down, and let birdsong begin your day. It will be one of the sweetest memories of Singapore you will take with you.
You can admire the birds too, of course. But don't touch them. They're busy.
�Sally Hammond 2007

That's Singapore - With an 'S'

Sun, 04 May 2008 22:19:00 -0400

THAT'S SINGAPORE � WITH AN 'S'
Singapore doesn't have a Sesame Street. It�s a tiny country, almost entirely city, with a population around three million, yet it could easily be subtitled 'brought to you by the letter S', because when you think about this safe and slick city you can't help but get alliterative.
Everyone knows where Singapore is, just a fish-ball throw from the southern tip of Malaysia, linked by a causeway and ethnically similar. Here, you can indulge in fabulous satays and roti, eye-wateringly hot curries and laksa � even fragrance-challenged durian if you dare � yet you can relax and enjoy it all. The hawker's stalls are strictly policed. There�s no washing up on the footpath here. Tap water is safe to drink, and malaria is unknown because they swatted the last mosquito years ago. It's like a sanitised Malaysia. Squeaky-clean.

(finishes�)
Regardless of the always 30-something temperatures, and the steamy climate that sends people searching for pools, or forces them to chill-out in air-conditioned bars or restaurants, the visitors just keep coming to Singapore. And what do they do when they get there?
Well, they happily stay with the Ss. They sightsee, stay in one of the country's hundred hotels (a thirty percent increase in the past three years) and shop, adding yet another 's' � spending. Singapore's statistics tell us that over seven million tourists from around the world visit Singapore every year and they can expect to exchange quite a bit of currency during their average 3.3-day stay.
Whichever way you look at it, that's plenty of S$s � and Ss.
�Sally Hammond 2007

Southern Comfort

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 18:50:00 -0500

As we boarded our plane for Rome I realized I was really nervous. In the weeks leading up to this trip, I�d immediately opened every Italian guidebook we had come across to the Safety and Security section, to see if my unease was justified. I wanted to find out if our planned trip � self-driving around southern Italy � was foolhardy.
Privately I thought it was.
I�d even quipped to friends: �So long as we get back with our bags and passports, I�ll be happy.� Then I�d add, �And the car!�
The plan was to drive south from Rome, where (good sign) it turned out the rental company had upgraded us to a natty little navy blue Alfa Romeo, then south to Naples, heeding warnings galore about pickpockets and worse.
From there we planned a quick lap around Sicily (watch out for the Mafia, friends said) then back to the mainland, outlining �the boot� of Italy and the back of the leg, crossing back from a point on the east coast, level with Rome.
Four weeks, we�d given ourselves, to do all this. That�s if we lasted the distance. Word was the locals weren�t too fussed about tourists. That was yet another thing, and I wondered why I wasn�t simply packing up and heading for Paris. My mood was as black as a Calabrian widow�s dress.

Metro-Mania in Paris

Fri, 01 Jun 2007 09:54:00 -0400

French film star Audrey Tautou starred in the 2001 film, Am�lie. In case you missed it, Am�lie was a sweet and whacky Parisian girl living in a gently skewed world, who in a few key scenes uses the Abbesses m�tro entrance with its original painted glass Metropolitain sign, an Art Nouveau design credited to architect Hector Guimard.

Am�lie, should she have ever existed, was just one of the estimated six million Parisians and visitors who use this enormous system on a daily basis. To service it, 15,000 staff are employed, and every map of Paris shows the criss-crossing network of lines and stops. With this city�s magnificent m�tro system if you can get to one of the 283 stations then you can reach almost everywhere else. Today fourteen lines covering 211 kilometres of track shuttle 3500 carriages on a precise schedule between stations.

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This article continues with details of the Metro, the underground rail system that efficiently links all of Paris, as well as its history and use, and the unique decor of some of the stations.

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Once only, during our many trips to Paris, our trusty tickets apparently let us down. When they were not accepted at an exit gate we were nonplussed until a friendly Parisian explained that we were trying to use m�tro tickets on an RER line. We didn't know there was a difference, but we had obviously strayed outside the inner section of the city. One person offered for me to squeeze through with her, but I was too hesitant, then another used her own season ticket to let us through.

Now, who says Parisians aren't friendly?

�Sally Hammond 2007

Picture Credits: �Gordon Hammond 2007

(Sally and Gordon Hammond travelled independently)

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Please contact Sally Hammond (shammond@iprimus.com.au) for a pricing schedule or to discuss purchase of this article.

� Currently the article runs to approximately 1000 words plus Factfile (fact-checked and updated free with the sale of this article).

� The length of the article may be changed according to editorial needs, and the Factfile may be expanded, however if substantial additional work is requested it will affect the final cost of the article.

� Pictures are available

� This article is currently unpublished. All rights available.

Nam the Price

Tue, 08 May 2007 09:51:00 -0400

"Two dollar, two dollar," the voice is singsong, pleading. "OK! One dollar! One dollar, OK?" The T-shirts jiggle encouragingly in front of my eyes.

"Why you no buy from me?" Her eyes, shaded by the ubiquitous 'non' - that conical bamboo hat worn everywhere here in Vietnam, become mock-angry, her lip draws down into a pout.

She wants to sell me a T-shirt - five sizes too small, in a style I would never wear, and a colour and pattern I dislike - but she just cannot understand why I am resisting her sales pitch.

"Two dollars," she insists, "I give you two. Very 'sheap'."

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This article continues with details of modern Vietnam and includes information on accommodation provided, local food and cuisine, things to do and see.

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(finishes�)

The traffic in this eight million population city is horrendous too. Thousands of motorbikes and bicycles and the odd car or truck or bus interweave as if practicing for a demolition derby. You have to have nerves of steel to cross through all of this.

"Just walk slowly, steadily," I am told. "They will work their way around you."

They do of course and it is yet another metaphor for the country. Vietnam may appear a little chaotic, but there is sense to it, and the locals know what they are doing. Slowly, steadily it's coming together, and I am happy to have seen it now before cars replace the motor cycles, before the effects of the Western world erase the essence of this special place, while there is still time to haggle with the street vendors and maybe come away with a bargain that suits us both.

�Sally Hammond 2006

Picture Credits: �Gordon Hammond 2006

(Sally and Gordon Hammond travelled as guests of Vietnam Airlines and Travel Indochina.)

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Please contact Sally Hammond for a pricing schedule or to discuss purchase of this article.

� Currently the article runs to approximately 1000words plus Factfile (fact-checked and updated free with the sale of this article).

� The length of the article may be changed according to editorial needs, and the Factfile may be expanded, however if additional work is requested it will affect the final cost of the article.

� Pictures are available (see gallery for prices, selection and ordering).

� This article is currently unpublished. All rights available.

Tasmanian Food, Beyond Apples

Tue, 08 May 2007 09:42:00 -0400

When Charles Darwin arrived in Tasmania on a visit in 1836, he found �luxuriant vegetables and fine corn fields�. Just imagine his surprise if he were to visit just 170 years later.

Today�s Apple Isle has evolved into the Isle of Plenty, a green and golden triangle of all things good to eat. Those few early food crops were just the beginning for this island now so rich in its produce that it is hard to know where to start.

Do you begin in the north where the Tamar river vineyards near Launceston produce some of the finest cool-climate wines in the country? Or head south to the Huon area once known best for its apple orchards, but now also crammed with other goodies? Or should you perhaps flip across to King Island, to sample its beef and dairy foods?

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This article continues with details of the various crops and produce of this fertile island and includes contact information for vineyards, cheese-makers, restaurants, bakers, and oyster growers among other things.

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�Sally Hammond 2006

Picture Credits: �Gordon Hammond 2006

(Sally and Gordon Hammond travelled as guests of Tasmania Tourism)

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Please contact Sally Hammond for a pricing schedule or to discuss purchase of this article.

� Currently the article runs to approximately 1200 words plus Factfile (fact-checked and updated free with the sale of this article).

� The length of the article may be changed according to editorial needs, and the Factfile may be expanded, however if additional work is requested it will affect the final cost of the article.

� Pictures are available.

� This article has previously been published in Australia and first Australian print rights have been sold. Other rights are available.

Flinders Keepers

Tue, 08 May 2007 09:35:00 -0400

You know that there's something special about a place when you've hardly arrived there, and already you are planning how you'll return. Soon. Flinders Island is like that.

The last remnants of an ancient land bridge between Victoria and Tasmania, this craggy island is just one of the Furneaux group, today reduced to awkward stepping stones in Bass Strait, with not a lot in the way of land between them and Antarctica.

Flinders Island itself is not really on the way to anywhere. You must decide to go there. Make an effort. Nor is this 90 by 30-something kilometre island teeming with locals. Jim, our tour guide was quick to point out there are only 800 residents, but 17,000 geese. That's Cape Barren geese, of course, named for the largish island across Franklin Sound to the south.

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This article continues with information on accommodation provided, local food and cuisine, things to do and see.

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(finishes�)

There's a mystery about Flinders. How the island has survived, why people stay. I'm going back, of course. I need to try to crack the code, and discover what the lure is. So, if you go, and find out first, please don't tell me.

I need to experience the thrill of finding out for myself.

�Sally Hammond 2006

Picture Credits: �Gordon Hammond 2006

(Sally and Gordon Hammond travelled as guests of Dakota National Air)

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Please contact Sally Hammond for a pricing schedule or to discuss purchase of this article.

� Currently the article runs to approximately 600 words plus Factfile (fact-checked and updated free with the sale of this article).

� The length of the article may be changed according to editorial needs, and the Factfile may be expanded, however if additional work is requested it will affect the final cost of the article.

� Pictures are available (see gallery for prices, selection and ordering).

� This article has previously been published in Australia and first Australian print rights have been sold. Other rights are available.

Don't Climb

Tue, 08 May 2007 09:23:00 -0400

"So much hype!" sniffs the American tourist as she swigs down the last of her bottled water. "It just changed from red to shadows."

I want to ask her, should Australia install a sound and light show on the side of the rock? Perhaps a little laser show, or maybe a fountain of fireworks from the far side of Uluru � a sort of desert version of the grand finale of the Olympic Games? Perhaps that might hit the spot with jaded tourists.

No doubt her companion would be delighted at the prospect I reckon. She grumbles back, �I can't believe we spent thousands of dollars to come see the sun set on a rock!�

But this is Uluru, not any old rock in the centre of Australia. The world's largest pebble (that's official) was, until 17 years ago, universally known as Ayers Rock, named for the boss of the white discoverer, Gosse. It�s the world's largest cleanskin monolith, and has been around a mere 60 million years or so.

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This article continues to discuss the background to the rock�s discovery by white explorers, aboriginal myths and legends concerning the rock, and thee complex Aboriginal rights issues and WHY they prefer visitors to walk around the base of the rock and not climb it. The factfile includes information on accommodation provided, local food and cuisine, things to do and see.

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(finishes�)

A two- to three-hour walk around some of the base of the rock is led by trained AAT Kings tour guides who point out the sites connected with legends, the wealth of bush tucker plants and some of the sacred sites: the caves where young boys waited nervously for their initiation rites; another where women ground grass seeds to make into a bread as rich as muesli. Squatting under a bush shelter, our guides scribbles in the fine dust, attempting to put the geology of the place into lay person's terms.

Right now you wouldn't change places with the minga (ants) on top of this baking rock for quids. The view from the top might be expansive, but the perspective from the base is so much more intense. To reinforce this, participants in the base walk get a classy and culturally sensitive "I Didn't Climb Ayers Rock' certificate.

�Don't climb,� say the Anangu people, and finally you can begin to see why.

FACTFILE: (to be updated on the sale of this article)

Where is it?

Getting there:

Getting around:

Where to stay:

Where to dine:

What to see:

More information:

(1900 words + Factfile) �Sally Hammond 2006

(Sally and Gordon Hammond travelled as guests of AAT Kings)

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Contact Sally Hammond for a pricing schedule or to discuss purchase of this article.

� Currently the article runs to approximately 1900 words plus Factfile (fact-checked and updated free on sale of this article).

� The article may be shortened according to editorial needs, and the Factfile may be expanded, however if additional work is requested it will affect the final cost of the article.

� Pictures are available.

� This article is currently unpublished. All rights available.