Archive for March, 2008

Editor’s Note: This post is by writer and playwright Anto Howard, a.ka. the Disillusioned Dubliner. He’s writing about his hometown of Dublin — about the good, the bad and the ugly. Last time ’round Anto was saved by a Culchie woman. This time he’s exploring his inner leprechaun.

What’s the best time of year to visit Dublin?

It’s a common but always tricky question put to The Disillusioned Dubliner. The dry, not-too-crowded shoulder months of May and September are one possible answer; the celebratory, slow, two-week build up to Christmas also displays the city at its best; or how about October, when the trees have turned and the theatres are opening a new season. All in all not an easy question to answer. When someone asks what’s the worst time of year to…

I screw up my already wizened face, cut them off mid sentence and answer in a flash — Paddy’s Day.

Drunken young men in big, fake hats. Welcome to Paddy’s Day

St Patrick’s Day in Dublin: Not Impressed

St Patrick’s Day in Dublin is a nightmare if you don’t fall into one of the following four categories.

1. Teenage boy before 7pm. (After 7pm your day tends to fall apart when you suddenly feel the urge to leave the pub underage drinking session and vomit on the first pristine cobblestone street you can find.)
2. Vendors who speculated early and cornered the market in oversized green hats and blow-up green hammers.
3. Children under age 10, before the sweets run out and the boredom sets in.
4. No, that’s it, there is no one else.

The 17th of March in Dublin is like August in Paris and like summer weekends in New York. Any city resident with a grain of sense gets the hell out of the place and lets the suburban barbarians and foreign innocents try (and fail once again) to convince themselves — as they shiver in the sleety rain and chow down on a half-cooked, frozen, deep-fried fish fillet that cost 11 euro — that they must be having fun because it’s St. Patrick’s day after all. Myself, of course, seeing it as my duty to report this madness to the greater world, this year bravely chose to stay in Dublin and stand witness to the lunacy.

St Paddy’s Day, Plus ca change

Standard St. Patrick’s Day Attire

So this March 17th I set out from my city centre apartment with very little hope of encountering anything that might change my dark opinion on our national holiday. I made my way up to Dame Street to get a good position to watch the famous Paddy’s Day parade pass by (an hour and a half later than promised).

But I had forgotten — there is no such thing as a good position to watch the Paddy’s Day parade, somehow, in the shifting 10-deep and surly crowd, you are always behind someone (unless you are one of the sick individuals who arrived in the wee hours of the morning, flask of tea in hand, to book your precious place against the ropes). Add to this the aforementioned ubiquitous giant Leprechaun hats, and any chance of a good view was quickly forgotten.

Memories flooded back of freezing childhood St. Patrick’s Days spent on tippy-toes trying desperately to catch a glimpse of some man with a plastic crozier in hand and a large, Papier Mache mitre on his head. Plus ca change…

Dublin City Council may have spent a few shillings in the last few years turning the St. Patrick’s Day Parade into a week long “Festival,” but here I was again with a bad view of men dressed up in costumes that look like they were made by a six year old who had just downed half a cough bottle. Are all parades this boring and uncomfortable? How about Mardi Gras? At least it’s warm I suppose, and the girls are beautiful and half naked.

Best place to view the parade, from inside a bookmakers on Dame Street

But I still think the parade in its essence hints of the Emperor’s New Clothes; everything thinks they are supposed to enjoy them but few really do. I looked around for some kids to make sure my dissatisfaction wasn’t purely an adult rant. Yes, I saw plenty of them smiling, a few laughing, but I quickly noticed it was the crowd, the other children, the sweets stuffed in their mouths that held their interests and delight which quickly wandered from the parade as yet another “creature” made out of paper, spit and watercolour paint wobbled by.

A Few More Kebabs Sold, A Few More Kegs Emptied

After half an hour in the cold I had had enough and was ready to go home. Easier said than done. The crowds had blocked the pavement and even if I managed to squeeze through the police wouldn’t let me cross the road. I felt trapped. I noticed a bookmakers behind me on Dame Street. It was empty but the lights were on. I squeezed in the door and the silence and warmth hit me with the pleasure of simple but forgotten delights. An oasis in the city of the marching mad. I put a few casual, 2 euro bets on some very average racing from Wexford and let the parade pass me by outside.

Two hours later and 14 euro lighter I exited onto some eerily quite streets. On St. Patrick’s Day in Dublin these are the dead late afternoon hours after the parade has ended and before the real business of Paddy’s Day — drinking till you drop — begins. Wrong again!

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If you only ever leave home once more in your life, make it a trip to Dubrovnik, Croatia. It’s a big statement, I know. But, as you are all aware by now, I’m a big fan of Croatia, and Dubrovnik is the pride of the country.

Dubrovnik, Croatia

Dubrovnik is an old fortified coastal city. The old town is still completely surrounded by the 14th-century wall designed to keep out invaders approaching by sea or on horseback and you enter through substantial gates at either end of the city. At up to 3 metres thick and 25 metres high, the wall was very effective until the war of 1991(when modern artillery was hurled from behind the stark sharp hills of the mainland). The Serbs thought bombing Dubrovnik would break the Croatian spirit and they’d be defeated; instead it made the Croatians very, very angry and the war longer and bloodier.

It also saddened the world. UNESCO had appealed to the Serb government to spare the city but Dubrovnik was bombed nevertheless. UNESCO provided funds to restore the World Heritage Site city and today Dubrovnik stands proud if scarred.

Things to Do in Dubrovnik: Walk the Wall

Everybody tells you that the first thing to do when you arrive is walk the wall, and I will too. From up there you can see bright new terracotta dotted amongst old red tiles; you get a sense of the devastation inflicted on this incredibly beautiful and unique city.

I’m not much of a climber. And I get vertigo. But the wall of Dubrovnik makes this city, both literally and figuratively, so I took a deep breath and climbed up. My spritely parents put me to shame as they mountain-goated up the uneven stone stairs. When I finally joined them it was worth it: panoramic views of the sea, the nearby islands, the historic city.

Dubrovnik, Croatia, from the Wall

The 2-kilometre wall is no mere showpiece but a living, breathing part of the city. Rounding a corner, I was suddenly face to face with clothes drying on a line strung alongside the path. As I stood there, an old woman in black shuffled out of a door, broom in hand, ridding her house of dust. She pushed the dust onto the wall path, gave me a cursory look and went back inside leaving her door open – I could hear the television. This was her home, has been someone’s home over centuries. The modern dust another layer on centuries’ old stone.

Rounding another corner, I was able to stare down into the city and watch people weaving through the narrow stone streets. Tourists and locals alike wandered past shops and houses; locals stopping to trade news, gossip; tourists stopping to look at souvenirs – oils, soaps, t-shirts, calendars, photographs of the city on fire during the 1991 war. People in cafes, doing what Croatians do best – drinking kava (coffee) or pivo (beer) and watching the world go by. Fishing boats moored in the small harbour.

Swimming in Dubrovnik is fabulous. There are few beaches but the typical Croatian rock platforms are good for basking and launching into the water. We followed our noses just outside the gates of the old town and found a fabulous swimming spot frequented by the locals. And, like all of Croatia’s coast, the water was clean and crystal clear. (For more water fun there’s always the sea kayaking tour from Dubrovnik.)

Things to Do in Dubrovnik: Eat, Drink, Be Merry

The coffee is fantastic. I am addicted. Even though I drink decaf (bez kofeina), the taste is great. Another thing to know is that Croatian breakfast consists of coffee and a cigarette. The good news is there are many, many bakeries (pekarna) and they do have croissants and pastries. And you are welcome to take them into the cafes to have with your coffee. You may need to do this for lunch too, because cafes in Croatia serve only drinks: coffee and alcohol, not food. It also means no peanuts, olives or chips with your drinks.

If you like beer, Ožujsko is a fine local brand. So is Karlovoćko. There is also a potent brew called Tomislav, and I saw a tiny lady consume an enormous glass of it once then walk steadily away: respect!
The food is also great, especially the seafood (naturally). Fish and squid are great things to eat in Croatia. Also meat, but I am vegetarian so don’t look to me for leadership on that one (bez mesa means ‘without meat’).

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Last week I was picking up a cheeky Viognier at my local bottle shop when I noticed that the bloke lining up in front of me was wearing a Canberra Raiders rugby jersey.

“You from Canberra?” I asked. “Oh no,” he replied. “I just liked the colours.”

“I’m from Canberra,” I said.

“I went there once,” he said. “It was closed.”

Oh ha ha.

It’s a widespread attitude, and one that has Aussies telling visitors to the country that the last place they should visit is Canberra. Overseas visitors often compromise by taking a day tour to Canberra from Sydney, dropping into the top sights like Parliament House and the War Memorial. And most of them leave agreeing with Sydneysiders who mock Canberra’s sterility.

Parliament House in Canberra

They’ve got a point. Canberra isn’t necessarily worth visiting. Bear with me here: If you’ve only got a day spare, you’re better off spending it at Royal National Park or on the beach. But if you have a few days, Canberra can be a real delight, a combination of slick city class, breath-taking museums, unspoiled bushland and dorky country charm.Canberra is two cities. There’s the city that was built to administer the country, the fly-in, fly-out workplace of politicians and high-ranking public servants, the monuments of the Parliamentary Triangle and the gleaming, expense-account lunch restaurants of Manuka and Kingston.

Then there’s the Canberra where people actually live, the leafy established inner suburbs with their alternative restaurants and friendly bars, the stretches of bushland that break up Canberra’s satellite cities, and the quirky suburban shopping centres, some flourishing, some on the brink of death.

Over the next few days, you’ll be visiting both cities. This itinerary takes in Canberra’s top sights as well as letting you in on a few of the city’s secrets. Thanks to Canberra’s less-than-stellar public transport system, you’ll need a car for some of the far-flung spots.

Things to do in Canberra: Day 1

The National Museum of Australia has been a lightning rod for controversy since it opened in 2001. Previous Prime Minister John Howard didn’t like its ‘black armband’ view of history – too much focus on genocide and guilt, he thought, and not at all something you’d want to take your family to visit. He used his influence to tone down some of the exhibits at the museum, but it still has a non-conventional (and some might say haphazard) take on the country’s history.

Before you head off, drop into one of the museum’s cafes and pick up a few things for a picnic lunch. If it’s a nice day, we’re going down to the river. Out by the New South Wales border on the north-west side of Canberra, Uriarra Crossing is the spot where the Uriarra Road meets the Murrumbidgee River, and in Canberra it’s what passes for a beach. Uriarra Crossing is the stuff of childhood memories – floating down the river on a blow-up mattress, waving flies away from a lunch of charred sausages, having a hit of cricket on the grassy banks.

If you’re super organized you can cook your own barbecue down here – there are basic grills, and piles of wood scattered around the place. Otherwise, slip into your swimming costume in the public toilet block and spend an hour or so mucking about in the river. Then unpack the picnic lunch and try to elbow in on someone else’s game of cricket or football, or just have a nap in some soft grass under the pine trees.

If the weather is a bit chilly for a swim, the Australian National Botanic Gardens is a great spot to visit, with a secluded rainforest gully, towering eucalypts spotted over sweeping lawns and a very nice café.

Head back into the city in the late afternoon, wash off the river water and frock up for a visit to one of Canberra’s secretive suburban restaurants. In the northern suburb of Hawker, Rocksalt sits between a takeaway chicken joint and a butcher shop and still manages to seem both classy and relaxed. Specialising in duck, this modern Australian restaurant also does a great kangaroo fillet and has a wide range of imaginative vegetarian dishes. If you want to learn more about Australian wines, this is a good place to do it – they love to give advice on matching wine and food, and are happy to sell you all kinds of drops by the glass.

Things to do in Canberra: Day 2

Canberra’s War Memorial

Today is ‘big ticket items’ day, when you’ll get to check off some of the city’s must-sees. The Australian War Memorial is Australia’s most-visited museum. Not just a memorial to Australia’s war dead, it investigates Australians in overseas conflicts from the 19th century to the current Iraq and Afghanistan wars.

For me the whole point of the memorial is the dioramas. These models of tiny soldiers in action, from Gallipoli to Korea, somehow do more to help you imagine what it might have been like than any immersive video experience could.

It’s easy to spend a whole morning at the War Memorial, but try to drag yourself away by lunchtime so you can head to Silo Bakery at Kingston for some of the best pastries you’ve ever tasted.

Spend the afternoon at the National Gallery of Australia. There’s always some kind of fancy international exhibition on here, but for free you can visit the Australian galleries and get a great overview of Aboriginal art, weird colonial-era paintings that try to make Australia look like Europe, and the muscular, bleak and exuberant pieces that came out of the 1950s and ’60s. The Children’s Gallery shows themed exhibitions with exercises and activities for kids, making a visit to the gallery less of a boring chore for the littlies.

If it’s a Friday, you’re in luck. Wander from the gallery up to Old Parliament House where, between 5 and 9pm, the ‘Café in the House’ puts on its immensely popular happy hour. If you’ve always wanted to flirt with a public servant, you’ve come to the right place – some would call it a ‘meat market’, but you should think of it as an anthropological exercise.

Any other evening, head back into the city for a couple of post-sightseeing cleansing ales at the Wig & Pen, Canberra’s long-running brew pub. It’s the spot to try a Kiandra Gold Pilsener, Kamberra Kolsch or one of several regular and seasonal beers brewed on site. Finish off your evening with dinner at one of Garema Place’s sidewalk cafes or – if you stay at the Wig for several too many – do the traditional Canberra late-night thing and order chips and gravy from city centre Chicken Gourmet.

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Let me make one thing clear, I am not stalking any of Britain’s royal family, and I’m not a royal family gossip monger. However, I read Yahoo! News, and I can’t help but notice when article after article on Charles and Camilla’s tour through the Caribbean keeps popping up.

At first I was intrigued. Are they in their swimsuits sunning on a beach?

The thought of Camilla in a swimsuit was not thrilling (or Charles for that matter). I admit my curiosity reached an all-time high when it said they were in Jamaica, St Lucia and Trinidad and Tobago. Why those islands, as opposed to say some fancy private one or even a posher Caribbean island selection, and what are they doing there?

The reggae jammin’ Charles and Camilla

They’re apparently doing a lot of royal ambassadorish cultural things. For instance, in Jamaica they visited the museum dedicated to Bob Marley, where they listened to some reggae tunes performed by a group of Rastafarian drummers, and they also tried their hand at drumming along.

In Trinidad they visited the oldest nature park in the West Indies, the Asa Wright Nature Center. In St Lucia, the biggest news was that Camilla wore a bright purple dress. It must be a bummer to not get to wear shorts on the royal tour, I hope back at the resort they are chilling out in a nice frayed tee and some cutoffs sipping planters punches.

So all in all, if you leave out having to wear a suit everyday and the official meetings about drug trafficking and crime, it sounds like a nice trip itinerary. And frankly, a pretty inexpensive one too. Though Charles and Camilla are traveling via luxury yacht, I am sure there’s a cheaper way to travel between these islands if one were so inclined. And all the things they did? You can book all those on Viator, at a guaranteed lowest price. The only thing we don’t sell is the red carpet (you’ll just feel like its there).

–Kelly G

Where have your itchy feet led you?

Where have your itchy feet led you?

That’s the question Viator, Lonely Planet, and STA Travel want to hear all about, right down to the last blister.

Lonely Planet is launching its annual Travellers’ Pulse survey of travel trends — what’s hot, what’s not, how you’re researching your next trip — and Viator is pleased once again to be a partner.

Click here to take the 2008 Travellers’ Pulse survey >>

And just to sweeten the offer, and to reward you for the 5 minutes or so it takes to complete the survey, you could score a free trip from STA Travel (worth USD $2,000, £1,000 or AUD $2,200) or a free Lonely Planet guidebook pack to help you live your next travel dream. Thanks in advance for taking the time to complete the survey. As always your opinions mean the world to us here at Viator.

–The Viator Team

Oh how I do like to be beside the seaside. Stralsund, that’s the place to be.

To get anywhere in Germany not in Berlin, as logic would dictate, you need to get out of Berlin. We’re not exactly talking about Los Angelese-style overpasses and car-sized turnstiles, but there is a fair share of confusion in Germany to find the right offramp / roadway / highway number, so that freedom of movement can be yours again. That and the whole driving on the wrong side of the road thing.

Or as my Dresdonian friend pointed out, “the Right Side of the road.” Which indeed it is, but that don’t make it right. Driving on the right amps up the “which way do I do the hook turn” anxiety index. If you are one of these people that has broadband wireless internet in the refrigerator, on the toilet and in your car then an online map of Berlin may be of some help. But if, like me, you feel more secure with both hands on the wheel, not one on a mouse, then you can also use it to print out a door-to-door list of directions.

Getaways in Germany: The Road to Stralsund

Jack’s impression of the road to Stralsund

The jettison from the not-so-sprawling city through to the welcoming woods takes not so long, once exit velocity has wound up the car to the mandatory 140km/h. Now passing through Eberswalde, then New Brandberg and up past Greifswalde. From the road, especially at night, it’s all just fields of little red-winking lights from the windmills, steadily and silently gathering power for toasting bread and warming tiny sausages across the great flat land.

I imagine little hands gathering all that wind energy, wearing Mickey Mouse gloves, waving at you quietly as the arms turn. It makes the German countryside the most welcoming place you’ve ever driven through.

Back in the day of old old Germany, there existed a handful of towns exempt from particular government taxes, the Hansestadt as they were known. Hamburg, Wismar and Bremen numbered among them, as well as the coastal town of Stralsund.

For the Australians among us, Stralsund is about the size of Darwin (80,000 or so people), is also on the coast, has about the same weather in summer as Darwin in late dry season, but is fortunate enough not to be lashed occasionally by cyclones. Like Darwin, Stralsund is regularly drowning in tourists. Except most of these do not wear thongs.

Being a coastal town, Stralsund has a sweet little wharf and pier. You can check out all the classic boats that carry mad Scandanavians about the North Sea and on a Saturday night you can go down there and get drunk with the locals and listen to classic hit jukebox action at the WerkStatt, a truly surreal favourite of mine.

Stralsund at night

During a good winter you can also watch the dark waters of the sea freeze and pile up into cracked sheets. And, from the comfort of your mouse-side wireless retreat from the world, you can watch the hideous new OceanWorld being built along said pier. (Yes, the nice little places at the end of the road soon become car parks for new violations of the senses, even this quaint town is afflicted.)

If you fancy a more direct sensory jolt, then join the crazies who start the swimming season each year with an icy plunge at midnight on New Year’s Eve. Remembering that this is the pit of winter, nipples make take weeks to unharden and many more work their way into the first flu of the year with this little dip in the Hiddensee near Rügen each year.

Moving back a little from the construction, the roads by the canals are over 300 years old. The rest of the Altstadt (old town) is some 700 years old. One of the largest organs in Germany hides inside one of the three grand cathedrals that frame Stralsund’s skyline. Plenty of quaintness to dally with, but its the island across the bridge that we seek.

Getaways in Germany: Onward to Rügen Island

Rügen is Germany’s largest island and a happy little idyll in the North Sea, at that. If you fancy getting a bicycle under you, then a couple of very pleasant days can be had in pursuit of fresh air, vividly coloured forests and open spaces, interspersed with dabs of pebbly beach and monumental German buildings.

Prora on Rugen Island. You gotta see it to believe it.

Prora, on the northern side of Rügen, is the largest and also one of the strangest buildings in Germany (now that Templehof airport in Berlin is being decommissioned). Bend that head as you try to take in a 7-kilometre-long building. That’s right, it’s one continuous building that runs along the coast, ensuring every room had a view of the sea. Little arcades were conveniently placed throughout the ambling stretch of tiles and waterfrontage, cutting that walk to the beach down from an hour (should you need to cut right round it) to a short hop skip and a jump. Prora was built as a single-minded testatment to the power of the holiday camp, back when politics in this part of the world were a little troublesome. It’s now a tourist attraction — and attract tourists it does, over 100,000 a year.

Also worth mentioning is the little village of Trippe, which is probably what you’ll do if you head over to the northeast side of the island and stretch your goggles around the white chalk cliffs from Sassnitz to Lohme. The stark white of the limestone does something to your eyes. Nothing like a natural high at the end of the ends of the earth, I reckon.

I don’t know about you, but all this talk of fresh air and open spaces can make the mind a-boggle, and there’s nothing better to bring things back to Earth than a fresh cold beer – puts things in perspective and slows them down so a man can take stock of the situation. Given that this is Germany, you can drink anyplace you like. As long as there are hours in the day, or night, there’s always time, and a right time at that, for a refreshing half-litre of golden tonic. So don’t get yourself in a ferment over the excess of things to do and places to be in Germany’s grand north. Grab a local Stralsunder, perch yourself by the seaside, and let it all just wash back and forth till there’s no place like home.

–Jack Brown

Plannnig a trip? Browse Viator’s list of things to do in Berlin, Munich tours and what to do in Germany.

There is no graceful way to roll over on a slab of marble slippery with soap and water. Try it, you’ll quickly find out that you have to leave all your pretensions and inhibitions at the door. This, for me, was the lesson of the Turkish Hammam (Turkish bathhouse).

It was my first visit to Turkey, to Istanbul. I had been to a hammam before, and places claiming to be hammams, but this was the real deal. Visiting a building where people have been bathing for over 500 years.

It seemed to me that two of the hammams stand out as the real deal: the Cemberlitas, built in 1584, and the Cagaloglu (1741). Both were close to my hotel in Sultanhamet, Istanbul’s main historical district. Both were described and recommended in my guidebook. I decided to try the Cemberlitas, largely because it is near the Grand Bazaar and I had seen the entrance to it from the tram earlier that day – at least I knew I could find it.

The main (male) bathing area at Cagaloglu Hamami, in Istanbul

Hammam Lesson 1: Not for relaxing

Istanbul is a city of 20 million people. And it is fantastic but after only a couple of days I understood why people needed to get away to a place of relaxation. But that was my first mistake: hammams are not about relaxation. Do not expect a pampering, princess experience like in a Western spa. Hammams are about scrubbing, and gossiping. The experience is vigorous, noisy, crowded. And quite confusing.

I ventured to Cemberlitas on my birthday, suffering a head cold. Both conditions which make me a little fragile. On top of that I was assured by the guidebooks that all would be clear and English widely spoken. Well, yes and no.

The receptionist spoke good English. I went for the full package – soap scrub, oil massage, use of the hammam – and was given a scrub mitten and little plastic tokens. These gave me confidence. I could hand them over and people would know what I wanted. A good theory.

Hammam Lesson 2: Women are clearly inferior

My first disappointment is that women are clearly inferior to men. The website promised little changing cabanas but the reality for women is a narrow corridor with lockers and very little room to change. The girl taking care of this area spoke good English but was not particularly forthcoming with information. And in my weakened, blocked-nose state I probably didn’t really ask the right questions. So, operating on assumption, I changed into the cotton wrap provided and proceeded down the corridor as instructed.

I reached a marble room, with two benches. There were a couple of toilets off this room and several women sitting around who stared at me. I smiled. No response. I showed my plastic tokens and one of them waved me towards a door. I smiled thanks and went through the door. Now I was in the hammam itself.

A beautiful room, all marble with a domed ceiling with stars cut out. This was the historical epicentre; women have been bathing here for centuries. In the middle was the heated marble slab where women were being soaped and scrubbed by the attendants. Around the outside of the room were little alcoves with marble basins, battered silver bowls and running taps. The sheer amount of water washing around was decadent enough to an Australian, coming from the land of severe drought.

A few people stared as I hovered near the door but no-one came forward to help me. I was glad I knew enough to head for a basin and start washing myself with the scrubbing mitten. But I made one big mistake. Clearly the basin I chose was used by one of the hammam attendants and as soon as I put my plastic tokens down she came and chased me away, gesturing and shaking her head. I fled to the other side. She calmed down.

Hammam Lesson 3: No nude bathing

Scrubbing you since 1741 at Cagaloglu Hamami, in Istanbul

Feeling a little fragile, I washed myself down, then went to lie on the hot marble slab and relax. I took my little tokens and figured that someone would notice and come to look after me in turn.

I glanced around to see what the etiquette was for lying on my cloth or not, and then I noticed: everyone except me was wearing bikini bottoms. Then I saw the sign: No Nude Bathing. I had made a huge faux pas. I hadn’t even brought a bikini with me – I assumed that women-only bathing would be a nude experience. My spirits plunged, my coping skills were as low as my immune system.

After toying with rushing back to my locker for my underpants, I forged on, lay my cotton wrap on the slab then lay on it. And, man, was I glad because a short time later another brazen fool without bikini bottoms came in, scrubbed off then dared to sit on the marble bare-bottomed. Oh, the raucous outrage she inspired! I felt a little better.

But I have to say I wasn’t particularly relaxed. I was increasingly anxious about my soap scrub and oil massage. Should I have told someone? Was I just meant to wait? So… I got up and went over to a lady I could see was an attendant and showed her my tokens. She nodded and waved at the slab. Obviously I was meant to lie down and wait. I did… but so much for the guidebooks assurances about good English spoken. I thought about shedding a little tear – as you do when you feel physically unwell, culturally confused, inappropriately naked, and it’s your birthday just to add aging into the mix.

Finally a lady came over, took my tokens and started throwing water on me, wrap and all. Yay, I thought. Here we go. I will be clean and relaxed and this stupid cold will be steamed out of me. Then another lady came to the door and yelled and my lady got up and left. What?! NO!

Hammam Lesson 4: No husband? No wax.

I lay there a bit longer, then finally she came back. And she was really nice. A big smile and the inevitable question about where I was from. ‘Oh, Australia, so far away.’ Then it was down to business. And my realisation that, at the hammam, you are quickly snapped out of any princess pretensions and busted down to being a piece of meat.

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Are you planning a trip to Australia from the United States, or vice versa?

Here’s some good news. On February 15 the two nations signed an open skies agreement that deregulates air traffic between all airports in both countries. In a nutshell, it means that any certified air carrier can now fly between Australia and the United States. They simply must pay a fee to do so. Historically these routes have been locked up (some would say unfairly monopolized, but monopoly is such an ugly word) by United Airlines and Qantas.

These two airlines will not be pleased with the new open-skies agreement. For the first time Qantas and United will be forced to compete — gasp, it’s true — on price! No more overpriced tickets, no more lackluster service, no more being locked into a single carrier. At least that’s the hope.

An open skies agreement between the United Stated and the United Kingdom has revolutionized air travel between these two countries. Prices have fallen, new carriers have been created, and the “old” carriers have upgraded their planes, services and attitudes!

An advertisement for the new V Australia airline. United & Qantas will not be impressed.

Already we’re seeing something similar happening in Australia. A new airline called V Australia (part of the Virgin Blue group of airlines) has announced it will start flying brand-new planes at the end of 2008. No doubt other airlines will get into the action (please please please, Singapore Air, with your wonderful reclining seats and excellent in-flight service, please start flying between SFO and SYD, please please please).

All in all this agreement is a good thing for travelers flying between Australia and the United States. Qantas and United may be annoyed, but a little competition is always a healthy thing. Bring it on!

–Scott McNeely

At Viator we’re constantly searching for new ways to experience destinations like a traveler, not just a tourist. Which is why we are pleased to offer the ground breaking, cutting edge, and profoundly yellow GPS-guided Storytelling GoCars for city touring over on the Viator website.

Huh? What’s that? What in the world are we talking about???

GPS GoCars in San Francisco

Let’s start at the beginning. Once upon time a man named Nathan Withrington (along with his business partner Alasdair Clements) had a vision. What if visitors to a city could drive around in miniature cars with the latest GPS (Global Positioning Satellite) technology, with an audio tour that was “smart” like a local? Their idea was to allow visitors to leave their guidebooks behind and instead discover a city with clever talking cars that navigate and narrate as you drive. An on-board computer and a GPS-system do the thinking so travelers can sit back and explore the destination from a completely personalized perspective.

Fast-forward to 2004, and Nathan and Alasdair offer the first-ever GoCar GPS car rentals in San Francisco and San Diego. Since then their idea has really taken off. If you live on San Francisco or San Diego, you’ve probably seen these bright-yellow minicars navigating the streets, going places that most tourists never go.

We recently caught up with Nathan and asked him a few question about tourism, GPS technology and the growing popularity of GPS GoCars.

GPS GoCars: Interview with Nathan Withrington

Viator: So Nathan, what exactly is a GoCar?

Nathan: The GoCar is a new concept in tourism. We were the first company in the world that, through GPS technology, empowered sightseers to take themselves on a guided tour. Our little cars have a personality and are you tour guide. As you drive, they navigate like a traditional GPS, but that is not all. They will crack jokes with you, recommend restaurants and tell you the stories that bring the city to life. As you drive, the car give you options of places to go and things to see. The more options you take, the longer your tour. So for the first time in history, they can not only take themselves on a guided tour, they can choose when they leave, how long they go for, where they go, when to stop and the language the tour is given in.

Viator: I live in San Francisco, and I’ve been seeing more of these GPS-enabled cars on the streets. It sounds like your idea has really caught hold and taken off.

Nathan: It all started a few weeks after we opened our doors for business. The San Francisco Chronicle wrote a full-page article on us and put it on the front page of their technology section. Before you know it, Time magazine nominated us for “one of the most amazing inventions of the year.” From that point the press has just not stopped, from Today show, Travel Channel, BBC, New York Times, USA Today… and it just keeps coming.

Viator: OK, be straight with me here. Are GoCars safe? Has anybody ever driven one into the bay?

Nathan: Occasionally, some people are intimidated by the vehicle’s small size and the fact that they are driving on city streets. The vehicles are registered as mopeds but the fact that you have three wheels, not two, makes them much more stable. Thankfully to date, with over 65,000 happy customers, we have not had any serious incidents. We take safety very seriously and make sure everyone that drives a GoCar is given a thorough safety briefing on how to operate the vehicle. With regards to driving one in to the bay, you never know, maybe we will come out with an amphibious GoCar one day!

Viator: Do you need a special license? Special training?

Nathan: All you need is a standard drivers license. The vehicles are operated 100% with hand controls very similar to a bicycle. They are fully automatic, so there is no clutch or gears to worry about. After the safety briefing, most people take to it like a duck to water. The GPS will keep people of the busy streets for the most part and will even warn you when you are entering areas where you need to be cautious.

Viator: I’ve heard the GoCar audio tours as people drive by my house. Do you offer custom voices? Can I select John Wayne to give me a tour of SF?

Yes, that really is Conan O’Brien next to a GPS GoCar in San Francisco

Nathan: We do offer custom themes. My favorite is the “MisterSF tour,” written and narrated by Mister San Francisco (of MisterSF.com) himself. This is a great tour for people that think they already know San Francisco. It does not take you to the obvious places like the Golden Gate Bridge and Lombard St, but rather it shows you the more notorious side of San Francisco, such as where a serial killer lived, where notorious murders happened and buildings that were destroyed in the 1989 earthquake.

Viator: Who’s the most famous person who’s rented a GoCar?

Nathan: You would be surprised at how many we have had. Just last week we had Carrie Fisher (Princess Leia, A Year of Wishful Drinking). We’ve also had the lead singer of Iron Maiden (Bruce Dickenson) rent one while he was here for OZ fest, Conan O’Brien and Tim Matheson to name a few. The most amazing person that rented from us may not be the most famous but I think it has to be Antonio “Tintín” Vizintín. If you don’t recognize his name, you have most likely heard his story as it was told in the 1993 movie Alive where the Uruguay rugby teams aircraft crashed in the Andes mountains. They were presumed dead but, some of them had actually survived and were forced to survive for 72 days without supplies by eating their expired team mates. Meeting someone with that amount of courage was just amazing.

Viator: Has anybody ever stolen a GoCar? Is it even possible to steal one?

Nathan: The great thing about the GoCar is that it is not exactly an inconspicuous vehicle! And it also has GPS tracking. We did have one incident where a couple stopped to have lunch and when they came out the car had gone. They called us to tell us the car had been stolen. All it took was one call to the police to say, “Yellow GoCar with the number 11 on it,” and 10 minutes later the car was recovered, given back to the customers and they were on their way!

Viator: OK, last question: What’s the fastest you’ve ever driven a GoCar?

Nathan: The fastest I’ve ever driven a GoCar? Well, firstly I need to say the cars are only designed to do 30 to 35mph. Having said that, being an engineer, I did modify one of the cars for my personal use to go faster. Much faster. I put an engine three times the size of a regular GoCar engine in it, and that particular GoCar would go over 60mph… for my personal enjoyment only.

Check it out for yourself. Rent a GPS GoCar in San Francisco or San Diego the next time you’re visiting. Or if you live in one of these cities, take your next out-of-town guests on a GPS GoCar tour.

–Scott McNeely

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s tours and things to do in San Francisco, San Diego and coastal California.

Sydney is a truly magnificent city, blessed with friendly people, great restaurants and one of the most spectacular natural settings of any city in the world. But there’s one area that Sydney is well below par, and it’s even led the proud locals to admit – shock, horror – that they’re being beaten by rival city Melbourne.

Sydney is a terrible place for a drink.

Sydney: Sure it’s pretty, but can you find a bloody drink anywhere?

Until now your choices for an after-work tipple or a lazy Sunday afternoon session have been the pub (big, noisy, packed beer barns) and the club (big, noisy, packed beer barns… with poker machines).

All that is soon to change with the introduction of legislation aimed at reducing the licence fee for small venues. Current fees (around $15,000) are set to plummet to as little as $500 for small-capacity licensed premises. The bill, introduced to Parliament by Sydney’s Lord Mayor Clover Moore, states that Sydney should boast “a night economy that is diverse and in line with other cities - Australian cities like Melbourne and Perth, and European, American and Asian cities, such as Paris, Florence, San Francisco and Shanghai.”

Supporters of the change are excitedly predicting a rebirth of Sydney nightlife. No longer will those wanting a quiet drink with friends be forced to run the raucous gauntlet of George Street on a Saturday night. Smaller European-style bars and wine bars (so successful in Melbourne since similar licensing deregulation in the mid-1980s) will soon grace the back lanes and third-storeys of CBD buildings.

Not everyone is welcoming the change. Predictably, the Australian Hotels Association is opposing the liberalisation of licensing laws, with the Association’s president stating, “We (people from Sydney) don’t want to sit in a hole and drink chardonnay and read a book.” It seems, though, that as with cultured cities the world over, some Sydneysiders want to do just that.

As usual in a bar fight in Australia, the last word goes to a Labor Party identity. This time it was former Prime Minister and withering orator Paul Keating, who weighed in on the issue late last year: “The pub culture in Sydney is stultifyingly bad. It’s raucous and it’s noisy in the Klondike-like saloons. All that’s missing is Lola Montez. The idea that you have to go into these swills to get a drink, and not in some more beguiling place, is a shame.”

Bring it on!

–John Ryan

Planning a trip? Browse Viator’s tours and things to do in Sydney, including Sydney food, bar & nightlife tours. Also read John’s previous post about finding a decent place to drink in Melbourne.