SAFE OPTION OR AN ADVENTURE? MINE’S A CRUISE
TURKISH BARGAINS
YOU may remember when stagflation hit Ireland’s economy: it had thousands of us rushing to google up what ‘stagflation’ meant. We knew it was to do with finances, and we knew it wasn’t good.
A similar situation has now unfolded in Turkey.
The Turkish lira has fallen to a record low in April, dropping to 5.04 to the euro. The plus side for tourists is that it makes Turkey the second cheapest southern European destination after Bulgaria.
Thomas Cook has described the country as the ‘standout destination’ this summer, although most political analysts feel you’d be best to give a body swerve to areas that border Syria or Iraq. The Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade says: ‘Our general advice to Irish citizens in Turkey or those who intend to travel to Turkey is to exercise a high degree of caution at all times . . . . and minimise time spent in crowded areas...’
Of course, you can’t guarantee safety anywhere, but for risk management you might consult the Global Peace Index (GPI). A handful of nations occupy the top tranquillity spots – Finland, Sweden, Denmark, Norway. All Øutstånding plåces.
But no room in the top ten for Liechtenstein, which is a pity. Not only is this a stunning Alpine country, it’s also one of the least bellicose-minded nations in the world. In their last military outing, during the Austro-Prussian War, 80 men set off to engage the enemy.
They lost nobody (fighting wasn’t really their thing), and indeed returned with 81 men, managing to pick up a stray soldier on the way home. That’s a very reasonable record.
VERY WELL-KEELED
Rollin’, rollin’ on the river... rollin’, rollin’ on the river...
And as Creedence Clearwater’s Proud Mary disappears round a bend on the mighty Mississippi, we turn our attention to the less romantically named Fred Olsen’s river cruises. Not so poeticsounding as a riverboat queen, maybe, but the latest addition to Fred’s fleet, the Brabant, is a byword for comfort. The boat noses down the great rivers of Europe: the Rhine, the Danube, the Moselle.
With many cruise ships today resembling Dundrum Shopping Centre with a mast, it’s nice to know there’s still room for maritime majesty – the Brabant has only 79 rooms and suites over four decks.
If your idea of a perfect holiday is a Kindle full of novels, a gin & tonic on deck, and the sun setting over the beguiling Rheinfels Castle, then a Brabant voyage could be just the thing for you.
CODED MESSAGE
HAVING just flown up from ORK to DUB, then headed for LHR, I began to wonder about airport codes. I mean, why ORK for Cork? And are the passengers who disembark there known as Orkonians?
Actually no. It’s called ORK because COR was already taken by Cordoba.
LHR for Heathrow is understandable, as indeed are the majority of airport codes.
Introduced in the 1930s when it became apparent that air travel was here to stay, the code system emerged from weather stations. Some early airports merely added an X to the existing meteorological code; thus Los Angeles became identified as LAX – in no way should this be construed as a comment on its security arrangements or indeed the morals of the place. From ABC (Albacete, Spain) to ZRH (Zurich, Switzerland), airports are now universally known by their unique threeletter code. Some are more easily interpreted than others, such as NOC, MAD, BOO, SIN and WOW (Knock, Madrid, Singapore, Bodo Airport, Norway, Willow, Alaska). Then there’s Fukouka – well you can probably guess what the code is there – and BOM, which is Mumbai, originally Bombay.
Funnily enough George Best International Airport’s code is BHD, not something more appropriate like GOAL! or maybe CHEERS! The more prosaic BHD comes from Belfast Harbour Airport, the old name.
SHEEP AIRFARES
FOR DUB, it has been a very successful year so far. March was the busiest month ever on record, with almost 2.3million passengers passing through Dublin Airport.
Changed days. During World War II large flocks of sheep were grazed at Dublin Airport. If aircraft movement was required, either landing or taking off, the faithful border collie Terry was despatched on round-up duties to ensure runways were sheep-free.
Terry was paid five shillings a week by Aer Rianta, mostly spent on meat and milk.
BREW-HA-HA
SCIENCE marches on. A silent champagne cork was developed some time ago by boffins in one of the great advances in viniculture technology. The cork gives off a quiet ‘hiss’ rather than a loud ‘pop’, a veritable boon to those who like the odd quaff at work.
I mean, how many time have you fancied a glass of fizz at 9.30 in the morning, but felt disinclined because of the exploding cork?
Mind you, for wine drinkers problems multiply when travelling.
Today, because of security restrictions, it’s a no-no to fly with your favourite corkscrew in hand luggage.
One remedy is to open your bottle of wine with a shoe – this consists of embedding the bottom of the bottle in the shoe and whacking it, heel down, against a wall or the floor. Eventually the cork will dislodge – it’s all to do with the build-up of pressure in the bottle due to the movement of trapped air.
But obviously having a corkscrew to hand is a more elegant solution. Some corkscrews, developed in the US, satisfy American airport security, but not European. So wine lovers: it looks like you’ll need to continue packing a sturdy pair of shoes.
WORLD IN NUTSHELL
VARIOUS travel websites will give you a quick run-down on the history and politics of individual nations, often an invaluable aid in making holiday plans.
Some specialise in summing up with as few words as possible, particularly for the TL;DR generation (Too Long; Didn’t Read). Thus for Russia we have the verdict: ‘And then things got worse...’
Switzerland’s is similarly succinct: ‘Going to war? We’ll hold your wallet.’ Poland’s history is encapsulated with: ‘Bloody neighbours.’ Which, when you think about it, could be equally apt for Ireland. Other highlights include: USA: ‘Freedom – terms and conditions may apply.”
Portugal: ‘We once had an empire. Now everybody thinks we’re Spain.’
England: ‘We are because we were.’
Spain: ‘Prawns without the cocktail, and a constitutionally guaranteed nap in the afternoon.’
And Italy? ‘We were really important but now we make shoes.’