As I write, my seven-day cruise on the Pacific Aria is due to set sail in eight hours. It’s been raining all night in my departure port, Brisbane, and here’s the forecast for Noumea, New Caledonia, where I will arrive on Sunday.
Wish me luck! And stay tuned for updates here and on social media.
The Boeing 787 Dreamliner is one of my favourite planes and it didn’t disappoint on my recent journey from Abu Dhabi to Brisbane. Neither did the Etihad Airlines service.
In fact, the only hitch was a 15-minute delay at immigration at Abu Dhabi Airport, apparently because my passport lacked a stamp indicating that I had reentered the United Arab Emirates after my recent Gulf cruise.
It may be hard to be objective to write about your home town, but I’m going to try.
First, it’s true that Brisbane, where I was born and I’ve spent more than half of my life, is not the immediate “go-to” Australian city. Sydney is that — because of the harbour, the Harbour Bridge, the Opera House, Bondi Beach, the Manly ferry and so many other attractions that all would-be tourists associate with the land down under. Continue reading Being in Brisbane
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.
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.