Advent 2011: Door 22

According to Lonely Planet, one of the hot travel trends for 2012 is 'collaborative travel' - or, as they put it, the kindness of strangers.  I have commented on this before, but my travels have been greatly enriched by the kindness shown to me by strangers all over the world, many of whom became friends in the process.

Today's hint is to point you to two examples of collaborative travel:
The City of a Thousand Welcomes project matches visitors to Dublin with locals happy to have a cup of tea or a pint with them and introduce them to the city.
Vayable gives locals an opportunity to market an experience (a Vespa tour of Paris by night, for example) to travellers, offering a unique insider's perspective.

Apart from these examples of organised collaboration, when travelling it is always worth asking friends and family if they know anyone at your destination.  The letter of introduction (even if it's an email instead of paper and ink) is a great institution - like the visiting card, I think it should be brought back into fashion.

Advent 2011: Door 21

I had these pictures in my head today for some reason and I thought I'd post them, apropos of not very much.  Is there a hint to go with them?  Perhaps the hint is to remember to stop on your travels to smell the roses - or the hollyhocks, as the case may be.

These flowers were blooming outside the little church of St Antoine in the village of Fixin, in Burgundy.

 

Advent 2011: Door 20

The new edition of British Vogue (January 2012) is themed on escapism and has a delightful article about how (and where) Vogue travelled, back in the day.

(I have been dreaming about this outfit all week.)

The piece is full of hints from the archives like, "You may indulge in pyjamas and evening dress in your off moments, but on occasions of stern necessity you will thank heaven for shorts and shirt."

But I think the real lesson is that we could all travel a bit more elegantly - even if today's long haul travel is the shorts and shirt alternative to the more glamorous pyjamas of the past.  (Did I kill that metaphor completely dead, d'you think?)  This lady (Mrs Norman Parkinson in a photo by Norman Parkinson entitled The Art of Travel) is my new role model.

(The Art of Travel by Norman Parkinson, via piccsy.com)

Advent 2011: Door 19

Yoopee! - as The Adorable Nephew would say.  I've finally caught up on myself and have the right door for the right Advent day.

Today's hint comes courtesy of Martha Gellhorn, who not only survived numerous conflicts as a female war correspondent, but also survived marriage to Hemingway.  As well as these, she is a worthy member of the Pantheon of Lady Travellers.  Her hint relates to travellers' tales - and it is very good advice indeed...

Upon our return, no one willingly listens to our travellers' tales.  'How was the trip?' they say.  'Marvellous,' we say.  'In Tbilisi, I saw...'  Eyes glaze.  [...] 

The only aspect of our travels that is guaranteed to hold an audience is disaster.  'The camel threw you at the Great Pyramid and you broke your leg?'  'Chased the pickpocket through the Galeria and across Naples and lost all your travellers' cheques and your passport?'  'Locked and forgotten in a sauna in Viipuri?'  'Ptomaine from eating sheep's eyes at a Druze feast?'  That's what they like.  They can hardly wait for us to finish before they launch into stories of their suffering in foreign lands.  The fact is, we cherish our disasters and here we are one up on the great travellers who have every impressive qualification for the job but lack jokes.   

Martha Gellhorn, Travels with Myself and Another.

 (image of Martha Gellhorn - and yes, Mr Martha Gellhorn - 
from the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library via Wikimedia Commons)

Advent 2011: Door 18

Another gem from Ms Davidson:

The choice of apartments, like that of a partner for life, should not be lightly taken in hand and entered into. 

I think there are some travellers to whom accommodation matters little (all they require is a roof over their heads and the most basic of facilities) but I can't say I'm one of them.  It's not that I need luxury - but feeling happy in my home, however temporary, is key to my feeling happy in my explorations.  The basics: a bed, a bath, something for making coffee, a window to look out of while drinking my coffee.  It's worth putting the time and effort in to finding a decent place to stay and making it yours (hello Ikea, charity shops) even if it's just for a few weeks.  A blanket/shawl/scarf makes a good throw; books always brighten up a room; a cheerful coffee cup; a few flowers in a jar ... none of them cost much and all of them will make you feel more at home in your new surroundings.

Advent 2011: Door 17

Yesterday's hint: when funds are low and a Lady Traveller can't afford a plane fare, may I recommend the mini break chez les parents?

Since returning to live in Dublin (after not really living here since I was 19), I now have the luxury of being a 20 minute walk from my parents' home.  A couple of weekends ago, I went to visit my parents on a Friday evening and ended up staying until Sunday night.

My papa went to New York on Saturday morning, but my mama and I spent time going to the local farmers' market, moving furniture (this was actually quite fun), reading the weekend papers, listening to the Met opera broadcast, drinking wine.  On Sunday afternoon we went to watch West Side Story on the big screen (excellent), preceded by a little gentle Christmas shopping.

When we weren't doing these things we were eating - delicious fish on Friday evening, croissants on Saturday morning, roast chicken on Saturday evening, scrambled egg on Sunday morning.

The revelation to me was that I appreciate a weekend at home as much as I did when actually getting home involved at least one flight, and, more recently, two or three or four.

Advent 2011: Door 16

An overdue (sorry) hint for December 16th courtesy of Lady Traveller's mama:

Here's a hint/observation which  neatly illustrates an obscure (note the double entendre!) rule of French grammar for those not familiar with the signs affixed to level crossings throughout France

'Un oeuf

 peut en cacher un autre'