Toss a shrimp on the barbie at Sydney’s Adina Apartment Hotel

If you watched TV at all in the late 80’s, you probably saw Paul Hogan slipping an extra shrimp on the barbie in an ad campaign for the Australia Tourism Commission.

When the campaign started, the popular movie Crocodile Dundee hadn’t yet hit the silver screen so most people had no idea the loveable Aussie who encouraged us to ‘Come say, G’day” would become an iconic movie star and lauded screenwriter. His screenplay for Crocodile Dundee, you may remember, was eventually nominated for an Oscar.

What we did know is that a barbie, one of many popular Aussiesms, is slang for a barbecue, a tradition as Australian as kangaroos, the Sydney Harbor Bridge and Ayers Rock.

Having a barbie is a must-do for anyone visiting Australia for the first time. If you aren’t lucky enough to make the acquaintance of a real shrimp-tossing Australian (the actor playing Mick Dundee has of late been rather tied up with a nasty divorce and tax problems) you should consider booking a room at Adina Apartment Hotels, Sydney Central.

Not only does this hotel have all the regular amenities (heated swimming pool, gym, spa, etc.), but it has facilities to throw your own barbie, Australian style. Because each suite is an apartment (complete with kitchen, washer/dryer and a handy place to hang out when your traveling partner is sleeping off jet lag), you can pop into any Woolies (another Aussieism for Woolworth’s, a popular grocery chain), pick up your shrimp (although in Australia they’re called prawns) and barbie away.

The other thing I adore about this hotel, to quote a realtor’s top three selling points, is location, location, location.

From this magnificently-restored turn-of-the century landmark (it was originally an insane asylum and later served as a post office), you are literally minutes from anywhere you might want to go. The Central Train station is adjacent to the front door with regular trains to the Blue Mountains, Hunter Valley and, of course, the Great Barrier Reef.

But first you want to take in Sydney, one of the most comely cities in the world. Outside the side door is a free bus that, in 15 minutes, will deliver you to Circular Quay, the Sydney Opera House, the Rocks, the Harbor Bridge and anything else you might feel inclined to see.

I particularly appreciated the Adina’s 3 L’s, because, being a fan of quirk, I was in walking distance of the more than 300 ticketed events in the Sydney Fringe Festival Sydney Fringe Festival, a month-long celebration of the strange and the beautiful.

So while there’s a Buckley’s chance (Aussie for no chance at all) that Paul Hogan himself will be available for a Barbie or an earbash (a long-winded conversation), Adina Apartment Hotels are ready and waiting.

And as for Paul Hogan’s commercial, it worked. Before its launch in the United States, Australia was number 78 on the list of American’s most-desired vacation. Within three months of airing, it moved to number three and for two decades it became number one or two on many an American bucket list.

For more about this converted post office with the spacious rooms, the natural light and, yes, the chance to toss another shrimp on the Barbie, contact Adina Apartment Hotel Sydney Central, 2 Lee Street, Haymarket, NSW 2000, Australia, 61 2 8396 9800 or click here.

Kenya, for those who look for silver linings

I recently wrote a story for CNN called “The Optimists Guide to Off-season Travel Bargains,” the idea being that just as every bull market has a bear, every tourist destination has a flip side, a season when prices go down.

Right now, for example, hurricane season has impelled resorts in Mexico and the Caribbean to practically give rooms away. Likewise, Arizona’s weather, its calling card in the winter, drives those with disposable income to more pleasant climes this time of year.

In fact, the state’s fancy resorts, its golf courses and its ooh-la-la spas would be as deserted as the streets of Tombstone after the famous shoot-out if it wasn’t for a whole posse of savvy hotels who drop their prices as fast as outlaws dropped their guns when Wyatt Earp and his brothers rode into town.

For optimists who see the glass half full aspects of say, Arizona’s dry sauna-like weather or those who like to play the odds (out of 183 days of the official hurricane season, the average of hurricanes is less than 11 with only 2.5 becoming Category 3 or greater), bargains run rampant.


Another significant travel bargain right now—and this is even during the high season–is Kenya where skies are brilliant blue and more than 2 million wildebeest and zebra have migrated from Tanzania into the legendary Masai Mara.

This “Great Migration,” as it’s called, is high on most folks’ bucket lists. Tourists normally pay top dollar to be there during peak season.

But this year because of, well, recent terrorist attacks on the coast, tour companies have cancelled bookings and several western governments have issued travel advisories.

Consequently, many of the Masai Mara safari lodges that, under normal conditions, would be sitting back smugly counting their high-season tariffs are slashing prices to levels you rarely see even during April and May, the rainy season.

Sure, you need to weigh the risks, but look at it like this. The 80 recent murders in Kenya pale in comparison to the nearly 415 that Chicago suffered in 2013, a year police bragged about a significant reduction in violence. Most people don’t blink an eye about vacationing in Chicago. The United States as a whole averages 80 homicides every two days.

In the last year alone, I’ve been to four countries with State Department warnings and, not once, have I ever felt threatened in any way. I even heard Pico Iyer talk about a recent assignment in Iraq. He said that the same people carrying the signs (“Death to Americans” and the like) would invite him home for dinner after the protests.

I’m not being flip. I just happen to know that the scariest part of most overseas trips is the media reports which, when you really get down to it, are nothing but anomalies.

Here are just a few savings I spotted this year for Kenya’s normally-high season right now.

Aberdare Safari Hotels dropped their rates (for a suite, no less) to $69 per night. And that includes meals. Golden Holidays offered a six-day safari with two nights in the Masai Mara, four game drives and three meals a day starting at a jaw-dropping $1325.

And last I heard, the Big Five hadn’t heard a peep about any travel advisories.

Nine best reasons to visit Namibia

Namibia is hot, desolate and ornery as an un-neutered bull. With the unheard of luxury of space (nearly three times the size of Germany, its 2.3 million residents average a half a square kilometer to themselves), this country on the southwestern corner of Africa recently hosted the 10th Adventure Travel World Summit, a delegation of 600 adventure tour operators, journalists and other seekers from 64 countries.

These intrepid travelers scouted this still-in-diapers country (independence from South Africa wasn’t granted until 1990), hobnobbed in its two biggest metropolises (Windhoek and Swakopmund), traipsed like Lawrence of Arabia across its seemingly-endless deserts and enjoyed one of the last bastions on earth where wildlife is actually making a comeback.

Here are nine actually pretty interesting things to emerge from the 2013 Adventure Travel World Summit:

1. Tourism may be our best chance to save endangered species. Like everywhere else on the planet, Namibia’s wildlife was nosediving at a drastic clip. Home to Africa’s legendary “Big Five,” this land of stunning landscapes was systematically reducing its game either by shooting it to protect livestock or eating it to survive. Its wily government took a long hard look at its resources, realized that lions, elephants, rhinos, leopards and buffalo, rather than providing meat, could lure travelers with deep pockets to its shores.

With much of the country averaging less than 50 millimeters of rainfall per year, farming, despite all the seeds, Peace Corp workers and other international support, was simply unable to provide a long-term solution. But capitalizing on the resources it already had (animals that residents of already-developed lands will pay good money to see), Namibia chose to build an economy by convincing its residents to embrace five simple words: “We will live with wildlife.”

2. Namibia was the first country to include the protection of its natural resources in its constitution. Take a peek at the average constitution and you’ll find a long list of yawn-inducing items about governance, rights of the populace, elections and other human-centric concerns. Namibia, in a move since copied by other African nations, chose to grant its wildlife, its vast landscapes, its natural resources equal protection, a stunning proclamation.

When the Namibian Constitution went into effect on March 21, 1990, the protection of natural resources was guaranteed in Article 95 that clearly stipulates that the state shall actively promote and maintain policies to “maintain ecosystems, essential ecological processes and biological diversity…on a sustainable basis for the benefits of all Namibians…”. In other words, Namibia is constitutionally obliged to protect its environment and to promote sustainable use of its natural resources.

3. Namibia has a bizarre tree that’s less than two-feet tall. To call the Welwitschia mirabilis a tree is misleading even though it has bark, cones, leaves and its closest relatives are pines, spruces and firs. This truly weird plant grows only in the Namib Desert, hails from the Jurassic Period, lives up to 1500 years and grows a grand total of two leaves. These thick, leathery straps lie on the ground, get shredded by wind and typically grow longer than the tree is tall.

This freak of nature was first “discovered” by Austrian botanist Friedrich Welwitsch (his grave in London’s Kensal Green Cemetery is engraved with the plant he brought to the attention of the Western world) although native Herero people, who often cooked it in ashes, called it onyanga, the wild onion of the desert. This unattractive, but fascinating plant survives in a tiny strip of the planet that often goes without rain for years at a time by soaking up moisture from the fog that regularly rolls in from the Atlantic.

4. The Namibian government owns the world’s largest population of black rhino. Despite a recent report by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) declaring the Western black rhino to be extinct, the country of Namibia boasts a growing population of both black and white rhino, all of which are technically “owned” by the state. Recent counts estimate Namibia’s population of the South Western black rhino, a nearly-identical cousin of the extinct Western, at nearly 1795, a huge jump from 1992 when rhino population were nearly decimated thanks to Chinese herbalists’ claims that ground rhino horn revive patients in comas, bring down fevers and aid in sexual stamina and fertility. Working with the World Wildlife Fund, Namibia’s Ministry of Environment and Tourism (notice these two agencies are joined at the hip), Namibia’s black rhinos (28 percent of Africa’s population) are rigidly protected in Etosha Natioanl Park, Waterberg Plateau Park and in the 70 communal conservancies that make up a good 46 percent of Namibia, more than twice the land mass of the UK.

Although controversial, Namibia brings in millions of dollars auctioning the right to hunt five post-breeding rhino bulls per year. All proceeds are plowed directly back into anti-poaching and other conservation efforts.

5. Namibia is a surprisingly fitting place to wear lederhosen. Other than the swaying palms, Swakopmund, now a vibrant beach resort, could easily be mistaken for any town in Bavaria. Founded in 1892 as the main harbor of German South-West Africa, Namibia’s earlier incarnation, it has traditional German architecture, hotels with names like Hansa Haus and Europa Hof and boisterous German beer halls. It’s as easy to get strudel and wiener schnitzel today as it was before colonial Germany lost its claim to the colony after World War 1.

Beer is cheap and there’s an annual Oktoberfest in Windhoek, Namibia’s capital. This two-day drinking extravaganza comes complete with oompah bands flown in from the ex-Motherland, drinking songs, knockwurst and Bavarian pretzels, all served with Windhoek lager, one of many Namibian beers that strictly adhere to Reinheitsegebot, the German Purity Law of 1516.

Waitresses wearing dirndls vie to carry the most beer steins, men in felt hats compete in wood sawing competitions and the average stein, served from big yellow tents, run less than $1. Compare that to the Munich version where steins will set you back as much as $13.

6. Always proofread your menus. At Tuesday’s dinner sponsored by the Chilean Tourism department, the menu, left beside plates in the Erongo Dining Tent, listed the main courses as oryx lion. Oryx, of course, is the national animal of Namibia and a culinary staple along with mopane worms, the caterpillar of the emperor moth that Namibians collect, dry (after squeezing out their innards) and either munch like potato chips or serve with pap, a popular maize porridge. Nutritionists claim they have three times the protein of beef.

But lion? Really? Turns out oryx lion was nothing but an unfortunate misprint, an inadvertent spelling of oryx loin.

7. Tourism accounts for one in 20 jobs in Sub Saharan Africa. According to a new book, Tourism in Africa: Harnessing Tourism for Growth and Improved Livelihoods, tourism is expected to employ 6.7 million people by 2021. Published by the World Bank, this new report cites successful examples from Kenya, Mauritius, Rwanda, South Africa, Tanzania and, of course, Namibia.

Since 1990, Africa has quadrupled the number of tourists and in 2012 reaped more than $36 billion in tourism dollars.

“Given the continent’s abundant natural and cultural resources, the fundamentals are in place for Africa to claim its fair share of world tourism, ”says Hannah Messerli, co-author of the report and Senior Private Sector Development Specialist in the World Bank’s Africa Region. “Although Africa’s tourism potential has largely gone untapped to date, it can now take steps to close the gap with other regions.”

8. Namibia’s famous White Lady was a cross-dresser. Deep within the Namib Desert, on the granite monolith of Brandberg Mountain, 2000-year-old bushmen paintings have puzzled archaeologists for nearly 100 years. In particular, the White Lady, the largest of the 1000 paintings scattered throughout rock shelters and caves on Namibia’s highest peak, was originally identified as a woman even though she had a penis and was clearly a shaman performing a ritual dance. The rumor was started by French Abbe Henri Breuil, an overeager interpreter of cave art. He went so far as to claim the White Lady was probably Isis, painted by an ancient tribe of Europeans that once inhabited Africa even though 50,000 acknowledged San paintings were already recorded in the region. In 1956, the archaeological community threw out Breuil’s interpretation of the ochre, charcoal and ostrich egg “lady” with a bow in one hand and a goblet in the other, but to this day the most famous of the Namibian bushmen paintings is still known as the White Lady.

9. Africa always wins. Try as you might to prevent catastrophe, organize efficient transportation and even take extra spare tires (two is the bare minimum) for the unpaved, rocky roads in Damaraland and Kaokoland, Africa has and always will have its own rhythm and sense of timing. Westerners might as well face that sobering reality and even embrace it.

All the world’s a stage and here’s where to spend the 7 stages

“To be or not to be” is probably Shakespeare’s most famous line, but “All the world’s a stage” runs a close second. In that monologue from As You Like It, a human life is broken down into seven distinct ages, all with splashy entrances and exits. And while the Bard himself wasn’t much of a suitcase-toting kind of guy, here’s where we think his “one man in his time” could best play his seven parts:

Age One: “At first the infant, mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.” Get that infant to Bali ASAP. The Balinese adore children. Most of the resorts have kids clubs, babysitters and gushing employees who are likely to come to fisticuffs over who gets to hold that mewling bundle next. The food is not too spicy with lots of rice, noodles and other easily digestible items (cuts down on the puking) and when said bundle does toss the cookies, it’s easy to kick under the sand (there are beaches everywhere) and pull off as a lopsided sand castle. Not only that, but infants will feel like Julia Roberts (who did take her kids to this gorgeous Indonesian island during the filming of Eat Pray Love) with fans continuously cooing over “those cute little cheeks.”

Stage directions: Ubud, the cultural and craft center of Bali, offers a wealth of family friendly restaurants (think large gardens with cats, fish ponds full of tadpoles and day beds where tired youngsters can relax and color while waiting for opor ayam), rice paddies and a sacred monkey forest. Cheap bananas, sold in the nearby market, lure the long tailed macaques that, if have moustaches, are female. Go figure.

Age Two:Then, the whining schoolboy with his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like snail unwillingly to school.” Hello!!! Anybody who has set in a classroom lately knows those wooden seats are damned uncomfortable and no way to stimulate a mind. A much better approach is Italy (although it’s much debated, some think Willie S. had to have traveled there to write about it so convincingly) where Art History Abroad (AHA) trains young eyes to appreciate art, sculpture and architecture. But more than opening doors to hidden Italian treasures, AHA’s mission is to produce cultivated minds.

As its director, Nicholas Ross, likes to say, “We see students’ minds as fires to be kindled.” Whining schoolboys not only see the cream of Italy’s masterpieces, but they eat at local cafes, many that haven’t yet made the guidebooks, romp with 20-somethings who still believe anything is possible, re-enact gladiator flights in Verona, pretend to be wealthy Medicis in their Florence palaces and imitate sculptures by Michelangelo and Donatello.

Stage directions: AHA tutors, as they call themselves, teach with such infectious gusto that the end result is a life of endless devotion to art of all kinds. Ross, who was recently voted the No. 1 Guide in London’s Daily Telegraph, carries a sketchbook to explain ideas that don’t translate well into words and has a gift for recognizing the best channel for imparting his passion. In impromptu plays that he’s known to stage in the lively market square Campo dei Fiori, he’ll cast a shy students as Lorenzo the Magnificent or a student who’s full of himself as Pope Leo X, a not-so-closeted gay who died of an exploding intestine.

Age Three: “And then the lover, sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad made to his mistress’ eyebrow.” Forget the ballad. Take the mistress to Paris which, as 473 million Google hits prove, is indeed the “city of love.” Although there’s no evidence that Napoleon thought of his capital as especially romantic, the rest of the world sure fell for this marketing ploy. And why not? With it’s famous art museums, historic churches, sidewalk cafes and penchant for turning food, wine and hand-in-hand strolls into a veritable art form, Paris enhances, if not out and out clothes ripping, at least romantic interludes.

Stage directions: Get ready for the games to begin with 2 a.m. strolls along the Seine and visits to the pond at Jardin du Luxembourg, the tomb of star-crossed lovers Abelard and Heloise at Pere Lachaise Cemetery and the Sully Wing at the Louvre.

Age Four: “Then a soldier, full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, jealous in honor, sudden, and quick in quarrel, seeking the bubble reputation, even in the cannon’s mouth.” Not totally sure I want a bubble reputation, but any kind of reputation can be furthered by hanging with outrageous billionaire Richard Branson. His Virgin Limited Edition portfolio includes South Africa’s Ulusaba Private Game Reserve, Morocco’s Kasbah Tamadot, Switzerland’s “The Lodge” and Kenya’s Mahali Mzuri that’s opening mid-2013, just in time for the Great Migration.

But when it comes to sticking your neck in the cannon’s mouth, the madcap entrepreneur’s first vacation home in the British Virgin Islands (where else?) is probably most apropos especially after one of its eight-bedroom, palm-roofed buildings went up in flames last year during Hurricane Irene. The fact that Kate Winslet and her family narrowly escaped that lightning-imposed fire on Necker Island only adds to the esteem juju.

Branson uses his private retreat to host symposiums (Tony Blair, Google’s Larry Page and Wikipedia’s Jimmy Wales met there to discuss global warming), but he also rents it to anyone who doesn’t balk at the $43,000 nightly rate. It sleeps 28, has 14 private beaches, a staff of 60, its own spa (where guests like Oprah Winfrey get caviar facials) and fleets of Hobie cats, windsurfers, boogie boards and a 3-person submarine. A Balinese drum calls guests to meals which can either be held in the Crocodile Pavilion around a giant table carved in the shape of a crocodile or in the bar where James Bond movies play in the background.

There’s also a floating sushi bar during Happy Hour, plenty of tree houses (Branson calls them love shacks) and pickup games of beach volleyball played with a coconut.

Stage directions: Steven Spielberg, Mel Gibson, Michael Douglas, Harrison Ford, Robert DeNiro and Kate Moss are just a few with bubble reputations who have stayed at this exclusive island. Whether or not they donned the island’s signature pirate costumes, we can’t say.

Age Five: “And then the justice in fair round belly, with good capon lin’d, with eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, full of wise saws, and modern instances, and so he plays his part.” Now that Shakespeare’s man has achieved social status, prosperity and love, he’s fed up with canned tours. He wants his vacations (and the rest of his time on planet earth) to count for something. Thanks to that sentiment, he becomes a volunteer vacation groupie.

“When I started the voluntourism website in 2000, you couldn’t even find the term on Google. Today, if you Google voluntourism, you’ll get hundreds of thousands of hits,” says David Clemmons, long-time volunteer and founder of VolunTours that offers health, education, and travel programs. “People are taking the onus upon themselves to change the world.”

Part Peace Corps, part cultural immersion, volunteer vacations give the round-bellied justice the chance to lend a hand, to experience a place in a new way and to make friends with locals, not just take snapshots of them.

Stage directions: For more than 100 ideas for volunteer vacations, check out my National Geographic book, 100 Best Volunteer Vacations to Enrich Your Life.

Stage Six: “Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon, with spectacles on nose, and pouch on side, his youthful hose well sav’d, a world too wide, for his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, turning again towards childish treble, pipes and whistles in his sound.” Ah, old age, when knees give out, faces sag and trips that sound most enticing involve some kind of inexpensive surgery. Nearly every country in Asia is vying for a share of the burgeoning medical tourism market. While Thailand, Singapore and India have been consistent growth leaders, my money’s on Malaysia that recently established a government agency (Malaysia Healthcare Travel Council) to promote health care travel and set up a global hotline for inquiries about their dirt cheap knee replacements, cardiac care and cancer treatment.

Stage directions: The Kuala Lumpur International Airport even has a 24-hour medical clinic and pharmacy. It’s near Burger King on the third level of the main terminal.

Stage Seven: “Last scene of all…mere oblivion, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.” Los Angeles, California offers the most convincing proof that none of us is immortal, not Marilyn Monroe, whose crypt at Westwood Memorial has had to be replaced numerous times from slobbering fans kisses, not Rudolph Valentino who’s mausoleum at Hollywood Forever hosts a memorial service every August 23 at exactly 12:10 p.m., the anniversary of his death, not Douglas Fairbanks, whose lavish memorial at the same cemetery screens movies on weekends during the summer.

Stage directions: For a complete listing of more than 400 interesting graves in Southern California, check out Steve Goldstein’s, LA’s Graveside Companion:Where the V.I.P.s R.I.P.

Important advice that every travel guidebook fails to mention

Travel guidebooks have it all wrong. They tell us about hotels and restaurants and sights we don’t want to miss.

What they SHOULD tell us has but five words:

“Get to know a local.”


When that happens (and it’s a lot easier than you might think), real magic can begin. Locals, of course, know the best restaurants, have true insight about the must-see “sights” and will introduce you to things those writers of travel guidebooks couldn’t begin to know.

A recent example of this happened to me in Rize, Turkey. Rize is in the Black Sea region of Turkey and, as the guidebooks will tell you, it has stunning Alp-like vistas, ancient monasteries carved into cliffs and charming seaside villages, all of which you don’t want to miss.

But nowhere did any guidebook tell me about Cemal, Nazmiye and Fethi Yetkiner. This beautiful, open-hearted family invited me into their home one Sunday afternoon, fed me a meal that rivals the best of Istanbul’s many fabulous restaurants (and that’s saying a lot. Istanbul has really, really, really good restaurants) and made me feel like a treasured guest. Maybe I should rephrase that. They made me feel like an important part of their close-knit family.

Sure, I could have spent my day in Rize visiting the Rize Museum (according to the guidebook it’s an old Ottoman house complete with a weaving room and antiques) or the Genoese castle that, the guidebooks tell me, has its own tea garden.

But by instead hanging out with the Yetkiners, I learned a travel truth that is far more valuable. I learned about the connection that all of us humans have whether we speak the same language, whether we practice the same religion or whether we live thousands of miles away from each other. I also learned that the State Department doesn’t know everything.

The day before my trip to Turkey, the State Department issued a travel warning. It wasn’t a warning about the region where I was traveling, but nonetheless, it gave me pause. Plus, what news-savvy American hasn’t picked up the notion that we’re not likely to win any popularity contests with some Muslims? I don’t buy that kind of stereotyping, of course, but I’m a human with a reptile brain. I wondered, “Did I need to be on guard?”

Like most decisions made with my reptile brain, that question was so misguided, so off-base that I’m embarrassed to admit it here.


And to pay penance, I want to tell you how beautiful and meaningful my day was with the Yetkiner family. By the time I met them, I’d already been in Turkey for a week and I was getting accustomed to the call for prayer. Even in remote mountain villages where maybe two or three families lived, the Adhaan was piped over a loud speaker system. I had grown to love it, to look forward to it and to utter my own “wassup” to the Divine each of the five times a day it rang out from mosques and loud speakers across the country.

I also learned quite quickly that hospitality is an art in the Muslim world, a cherished virtue that encourages practitioners to view every person who comes across their path as sent to them by Allah himself. In fact, it’s next-to-impossible in Turkey to be in the general vicinity of another human being without being handed a fig or a hazelnut or a bowl of fresh yogurt made that morning from the milk of their own cow.

Hospitality is so over-the-top (commerce, it seems, is beside the point) that any crusty idea I ever had that foreigners are different or that life sucks or that the world is a going to hell in a handbasket were properly dashed against the inhospitable shores of the Black Sea, a region in Turkey that looks more like the Colorado Rockies than Lawrence of Arabia.

Sure, Nazmiye and Fethi disappeared for a few minutes every time the call to prayer sounded (to a room where they kneeled on their prayer rug) and our language barriers prevented us from burrowing deeply into long conversations. But none of that mattered. When they were off praying, I sat on their gorgeous balcony gazing over the misty tea fields, reveling in the beautiful chanting that reminds all who hear it, “There is more. There is more.”

When I faltered in trying to saying thank you (my “Tesekkur ederim” still sounds like something my 15-month-old granddaughter might say) for the five-course meal Nazmiye so generously prepared, she hugged me and let me know that she “got it” and that some things are bigger than words.

And after our feast (it’s really the only word that aptly applies), Cemal, who speaks perfect English, gave me a personal took of the tea factory (where he knew everyone and proudly provided anecdotes and perspective all guidebooks missed) and a craft factory (where prices were dirt-shockingly cheap), but he introduced me to most every one of his family and every one of his neighbors.
It’s an experience I will treasure forever. And a vivid reminder always that “there is more. There is more.”

You want to go where? The planet’s 10 most challenging destinations

There aren’t any travel brochures or last-minute deals for getting to the destinations in this article. Most of them, in fact, don’t even have airports. Or ports.

These solitary pieces of real estate are mercilessly remote, extremely hard to get to and, except for the members of certain destination collecting groups (Travelers’ Century Club or Most Traveled People), not listed on too many bucket lists. To get to any one of these is roughly the equivalent of a stamp collector finding an 1856 British Guiana 1 cent Magenta.

That’s the bad news. The good news is that if you can get to these ten places, you will have developed so many desirable qualities that you can either A) apply for sainthood, B) have your pick of the guy or girl of your dreams or C) secure your own television talk show. At very least, you can fire your therapist.

1. Diego Garcia. This British territory that’s leased to the American military and halfway between Africa and Indonesia requires securing a permit, informing the U.S. you’re not a Somali pirate (so they’ll call down their missiles) and making sure the native Chagossians who were evicted from the island in the 1960’s and still not happy about it haven’t hitched a ride on your boat. It’s also considered wise to hire armed guards to make the journey with you.

Why it might be worth the bother: You’ll foster tenacity and possibly be able to encourage one of the 16 commands located on this remote island with the motto: “ONE ISLAND, ONE TEAM, ONE MISSION.” Plus, according to the latest conspiracy theory, you’ll be crowned a hero because that’s where the missing Malaysia Flight 370 landed along with its passengers.

2. Howland Island. Sure, this remote isle just north of the equator in the Micronesian Pacific has a stunning four-mile beach, but it’s windy, has no fresh water supply and hasn’t been inhabited (except by errant sea and shore birds) since World War II. Getting there requires filling out a six-page special use permit request and having the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service says, “C’mon Down.” Let’s just say neither happens very often.

Why it might be worth the bother: You’ll develop persistence and be able to say, “na-na-na-na-boo-boo” to the memory of Amelia Earhart. Despite the fact that the U.S. government ponied up $12,000 to build three runways for the famous aviatrix’s 1937 flight around the world, Earhart and navigator Fred Noonan never made it to this now-deserted island, creating a mystery that has spawned numerous books, movies and TV specials.

3. Baker Island. This tiny atoll that’s halfway between Hawaii and Australia has an overgrown, good-luck-to-any-pilot-trying-to find-it airstrip and technically qualifies as a Pacific island, but forget any notion of swaying native girls singing “Bali Hai.” It’s economic heyday occurred in mid-1800’s when guano miners, under U.S. federal legislation, took possession of the doo-doo encrusted dot. Back then, guano was a hot commodity used as fertilizer and saltpeter for gunpowder. Today, it’s part of the Baker Island National Wildlife Refuge, uninhabited and only visited by scientists and representatives of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service every year or two. To get there, you pretty much have to know someone and/or be willing to charter an 8-day, $60,000 boat ride from Hawaii. And even then, you don’t want to get too close. The low-lying reef around this island has bested many ships including 11 Navy ships that sank here during World War II.

Why it might be worth the bother: You’ll prove your financial worth, not to mention you’ll enjoy the rare chance to see a sizable colony of both green and hawksbill turtles, several species of endangered birds, the grave of an American seaman and a sad-looking clump of coconut palms established by the four Americans sent there in 1935 to colonize. Evacuated in 1942 during Japanese air and naval attacks, the colonists didn’t leave a Holiday Inn. Take a tent and lots of sunscreen.

4. The Balleny Islands. English whaling captains John Balleny and Thomas Freeman were the first to visit these desolate, frigid and utterly hostile Antarctic islands in 1839. Very few have been there since. Earthquakes are common (eight so far this year), volcanoes are still suspected of being active and they’re only reachable about 28 days of the year. New Zealand, that administers these islands as part of the Ross Dependency, has been attempting to the turn them into a Protected Marine Area, but, because these 160 kilometers of ice and rock are also governed under the Antarctic Treaty System, the proposition hasn’t gained a lot of traction. After all, who needs to protect a place without humans?

Why it might be worth the bother: You’ll achieve fame. Or at least a place in the history books. So far, no one has yet climbed the 1705-meter Brown Peak on Sturge Island. Take crampons.

5. Scott Island. The first difficulty in getting to this tiny island with the two beaches is that there are imposters, a full three other islands with the same name. There’s one in Maine, one in West Virginia and one near Vancouver Island with a ferry service from Chemainus to Thetis, close enough to swim. No, the Scott Island we’re talking about is smack dab in the Ross Sea, a good 505 kilometers from the Antarctica’s Cape Adare and has nothing remotely resembling amenities. Even the two beaches are covered with ice most of the year. The other hindrance is that, until a 2006 mapping expedition, this Scott Island was believed to be 2.3 km south of its actual position. And finally, one of the only boats to ever get close to this craggy island is the MY Steve Irwin, the 19-meter flagship of the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society that throws butyric acid and other dangerous chemicals aboard Japanese whaling ships. Not to mention that members of the crew have been kidnapped and tied to “enemy ship” masts with ropes and zip ties.

Why it might be worth the bother: 1.You’ll attain environmental savvy. 2. You could be in the movies. The crew of the MY Steve Irwin and their conservation efforts are the stars of the Animal Planet Show, “Whale Wars” and 3. Apparently, it’s a desirable place to get married. On February 12, 2009, Andrew Perry and Molly Kendall, crew of the MY Steve Irwin, got hitched on top of a rock formation wearing matching orange all-weather Mustang suits with reflective trim.

6. Peter I Island. Located in the Bellingshausen Sea, 450 kilometers from Antarctica, this Norwegian dependency is surrounded by pack ice and nearly inaccessible 365 days a year. First sighted in 1821, it took 108 years before anyone was able to set foot on it. The Russian ship that first spotted it and named it for Tsar Peter I “The Great” couldn’t get within 25 kilometers. Neither could the French. Norwegian whaling ship owner Lars Christensen (the island’s 1640-meter peak is now named after him) financed a couple failed attempts before finally claiming it for Norway.

Why it might be worth the bother: You’ll nurture international goodwill. On a 2006 expedition that was dubbed the most expensive expedition in the world and required getting dozens of financial sponsors, participants drank wine (in the same evening) with Chileans, Russians and Chinese scientists who manned the closest polar bases. They also met Nikolai Litau, an intrepid Russian explorer, who was circumnavigating the Antarctic on a 15-meter sailboat.

7. Eritrea. It isn’t the fact that most Western countries have issued travel warnings. Or that Somali pirates are rumored to have sanctuary. Or even the coup that occurred earlier this year. Getting to Eritrea, nicknamed the North Korea of Africa, is next-to-impossible because the government requires visas, but turns down the lion’s share of requests to obtain them. They happily take your visa application money, but granting the document that’s required for entry into this sliver off the Horn of Africa? Not so much. That might be digestible, sorta like playing the lotto, except that to even apply for a visa you have to have an air ticket which, of course, costs a bit more than the average lottery ticket. It’s also necessary to get permission, even if you’re a diplomat, to travel outside Asmara, the capital.

Why it might be worth the bother: You’ll obtain nerves of steel. Plus, the Eritrean coastline is pristine and untouched, Asmara has a truly remarkable collection of Art Deco architecture and the people, hailing from nine diverse and colorful ethnic groups, are, believe it or not, actually quite friendly.

8. Tokelau. There’s no airport and the nearest land mass, Somoa, is a good 30-hour boat ride away. Luckily, this three-island nation in the South Pacific does have its own boat, the MV Tokelau. But it’s a cargo ship with no cabins and it has a grand total of two toilets. So take blankets (locals do) and an umbrella. Plus, it runs an average of once a month, mostly to bring supplies to the 1411 residents who scratch out a subsistence lifestyle on the three islands, Atafu, Fakaofo and Nukunonu. Even so, Tokelau was the first nation to use nothing but renewable energy. All three islands generate 100 percent of their electricity from solar power.

Why it might be worth the bother: You’ll nurture grit and determination. And possibly win the prize of being the last to say, “goodbye.” This little nation, a mere five meters above sea level, is predicted to become the first casualty of global warming.

9. Nicobar Islands. This group of 19 islands is located in the Indian Ocean, south of the Andaman Islands and requires dealing with one bureaucracy after another. And just when you get the permit from Madras (Nicobar is a territory of India and has military installments), you’ll find the guard has changed or the helicopter is full and there’s no a new government official you need to contact.

Why it might be worth the bother: You’ll nourish your inner doggedness. Plus, in May of 2013, UNESCO named the Nicobar Islands a World Biosphere Reserve.

10. Bouvet Island. Just for the shot to get to this lonely pimple that juts out of the grey, forlorn South Atlantic costs $25,000. And even after you cough it up and board the icebreaker that travels there, your 25 G’s entitles you to but three chances. If Mother Nature fails to cooperate, that’s 25 grand down the drain. And just so you know, it’s 1000 miles further than Tristan da Cunha, the most remote inhabited spot on earth.

Why it might be worth the bother: You’ll develop flexibility and the chance to be one of a few dozen humans to have left footprints there.

For some, that’s enough.

Flower to the People: ME London’s Radio features cocktails with edible flowers

Not since the Beatles came out with “She Loves You” has a London institution created this much excitement among the hip, young coolios of London’s West End.

Yes, I’m talking about Radio, the rooftop bar, perched atop ME London. Every weekend, block-long lines snake around the exquisite five-star hotel that has pulled down nearly every possible hotel award since it opened near Covent Garden last year. And every stiletto-wearing beauty, every Crombie-carrying hipster is waiting for their turn to ride the dedicated elevator to the tenth floor and Radio’s panoramic view of River Thames, Big Ben, the London Eye, the theater district and other icons of oh-so-cool London.

So how does a zeitgeist begin? In the case of Radio and ME London, it was already pointed in the right direction as the latest offering from Melia, the savvy, cosmopolitan Spanish hotel group. But it was also blessed with the leverage of location, wedged between Westminster and Trafalgar Square and butting up against the West End Theater District.

Guglielmo Marconi, the Italian inventor who pioneered radio transmission, had a telegraph station here in the 1920’s and some of the BBC’s early broadcasts were boomed from this location near St. Paul’s Cathedral.

But perhaps ME London’s biggest coup was timing and dumb luck. It opened just in time for London Fashion Week 2013, serendipitously across the street from Somerset House where the catwalk is set up and where more than 150 designers have exhibitions.

That Donatella Versace, Victoria Beckham and Diane von Furstenburg showed up at ME London to judge the International Woolmark Prize certainly didn’t deter interest in this stunning hotel that makes a fashion statement of its own.

Architects Foster + Partners, in their first hotel project, wrapped the 157 rooms, the two bars and three restaurants around a nine-story, white-marble atrium that soars to a distant triangle of natural light. The rooms, including 16 suites, have white leather panels, floor to ceiling windows and an interactive TV and lighting system that requires concierge instruction. From every vantage point, from the hotel’s dark hallways to the atrium’s nightly eight-minute light show, the design is fresh, original and worthy of every honor it reaped.

But what about all those beautiful people waiting in those lines? Was Radio really worth this kind of commitment, especially when a numerous selection of West End bars were within stiletto-wobbling distance?

Having the good fortune to stay at ME London (I was writing a story on the upcoming Banksy exhibition to be held here April 24-27) and to preview the bar that hundreds of people half my age were lusting to enter, I boarded the elevator that led to its vaunted heights.

My first clue that I was in for a treat was the size of the drink menu—12 pages filled with such cocktails as Thames River Iced ME (Grey Goose, Bombay Sapphire, Bacardi, El Himador, peach liqueur, lemon and ting), the AM/FM (Bacardi, Chambord, mint, lemon and passion fruit) and Flower in the Rain (Grey Goose, rhubarb, lemon, cranberry and strawberry).

The vodka menu had 15 offerings from Finland, Poland and, of course, Russia and the more than 16 imported whiskeys hailing from Japan to the U.S. bode well for our group’s party vibe.

But perhaps the most fascinating feature of the drinks at Radio are edible flower garnishes, a welcome sight after a record-setting winter. Not only do Radio mixologists take advantage of such fragrant elixirs as rose water, lavender and elderflower, but they top many of their gorgeous cocktails with a tantalizing reminder of spring and all that that entails.


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