A Louis Vuitton trunk at the airport speaks volumes about its owner. For one thing, they’re probably not bothered about excess baggage charges (no fear of Ryanair restrictions here). For another, they probably won’t buy three copies of The Daily Telegraph in WHSmith just to get the free giant bottles of Buxton water for the flight and the onward journey. And they won’t have a dilemma about whether it’s ok to nick the blankets from the plane on long haul flights or not, because they don’t fly economy.
Lawrence Durrell once said that “Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection.” I’m a big advocate of travelling for wellbeing, but I’ve also blogged about what it’s like to be away when you’re depressed, and how you can get through it. One big issue remains: finding travel insurance to cover depression can be a bit of a nightmare because, as the FCO says, it needs to be declared as a pre-existing medical condition. That policy will protect you from any health-related issues that may crop up during your trip, but you’ll pay a lot for the privilege.
These days we seem to carry more valuables than ever when we’re on holiday, from cameras to laptops, so it’s not surprising that travel safety is becoming a bigger concern. Whilst we can’t stick a DSLR up a jumper or hide an iPad beneath a maxi dress, being able to squirrel away smaller items like some extra cash, a room key and a passport can be really useful.
I recently spent a few days exploring Copenhagen and Malmö and, having read that both cities are safe but carry the usual risks of urban pickpocketing, decided it was best to come prepared. An anti-theft top with two hidden pockets seemed like an easy way to store some of my belongings without sticking out like a sore thumb… enter the Tank Top with Two Pockets by Clever Travel Companion.
If there’s one exhibition the makers of the dreaded Protein World advert – ‘Are you beach body ready?’ – should see, it’s Riviera Style: Resort & Swimwear Since 1900 at the Fashion and Textile Museum, London, where it’s proven that idealised beach bodies – and holiday trends – are forever changing.
There’s no failsafe seaside look that could carry you from the 1900s to the noughties, just as no destination has consistently ruled over all the others (for one thing, Dubai and Benidorm were barely on the map in 1900, unless you fancied a quiet fishing trip).
Before you run for the hills, I should warn you this isn’t really a ‘Hygiene Museum’ at all: it’s more like the love child of the Science Museum and the Wellcome Collection (two brilliant London sights for curious tourists). In other words, this attraction is ten times more fascinating and approachable than its name, the Deutsche Hygiene-Museum, suggests.
For many of us, the word ‘hygiene’ conjures images of hand washing, medical scrubs and stern matrons, yet this in no way represents the current collection in Dresden. Admittedly in its earlier incarnations this was a place for teaching the masses about good health and cleanliness – in a 1930 report, Time Magazine called it ‘exemplary’ and ‘instructive’ for educating ‘lazy, ignorant, indifferent people’ – but now the aim is to spark curiosity, not lecture visitors.
There’s something about watching photogenic fashion tribes that conjures up a David Attenborough or Bruce Parry voice-over inside my head. Something that says I’m in the presence of a species fundamentally different to my own, no matter how much I might want to understand them or imitate them. Ultimately there’s a little bit of fear in not knowing what their next move might be, or whether they’re about to bare their claws. Welcome to London Fashion Week, where the beautiful and the strange gather.
We all know that travel writing is ridiculously competitive (hey, who wouldn’t want to tell the world about their adventures or, indeed, be paid to go on them in the first place?), but something I’ve noticed in the past year or so is how many lifestyle websites don’t even have an outlet for travel at all, despite it being just the thing that their readers would respond to.
Many that do offer holiday inspiration manage to drip-feed it through lengthy advertorials or commercial ventures that mean there’s no room for freelancers or bloggers to get a word in edge-ways The questions I’m left asking – how did this become okay? At what point did readers stop wanting genuine insight and travelogues and start wanting advertorial tied to competitions instead? I’d love to know, really I would.