A New Start

FT: In a class of their own

In a class of their own

By Catherine Moye

Published: July 5 2008 03:00 | Last updated: July 5 2008 03:00

Like Oxford's spires, British fee-paying schools evoke notions of educational perfection. For many affluent non-Britons, names such as Eton and Harrow share a pedigree with buildings such as Buckingham Palace and St Paul's cathedral: traditional British institutions that cannot be outsourced to China.

Thus many overseas parents move to the UK, be it as non-domiciled aliens or relocators, as buyers or renters, full or part-time. Their search for British schooling for their children helps fuel demand for housing in prime areas, especially in London.

"Business, tax and education are the main reasons that overseas nationals come to live in London," says Richard Sharples of buying agency Property Vision. "The perception is that the British [education] system is the finest in the world and most people think it's a good idea for their children to learn English. There's also an element of prestige in having your child go to Harrow or wherever."

That might be the case but securing your child a place at Britain's most venerable scholastic institutions can be like obtaining a seat at King Arthur's round table - especially for an overseas national. Pressure on places is tough and growing and only a lucky few are admitted.

"We get hundreds of overseas enquiries. I would say that number has more than doubled in the past three years," says Kirsty Shanahan, communications manager of Harrow school, where fees are approximately £26,500 a year. "The bulk of the increase is from the emerging economies of India, Russia and China."

Yet only about 10 per cent of Harrow's pupils are from outside the UK, according to Shanahan. "That's been fairly consistent throughout. It's not set in stone but we do keep one eye on the quota, otherwise it's not good for the school as a whole."

Historically the overseas clientele were wealthy parents from Asia, the Middle East and commonwealth African countries. They sent their children to British public schools that they had almost invariably attended themselves before going on to the universities of Oxford or Cambridge. (In Britain, in one of those quirks apparently designed to fox foreigners, independently run, fee-charging schools are termed "public" because historically pupils were gathered in public to be taught rather than privately at home by a tutor).

"To a certain extent it's snob value and the fact that children are worked much harder in the English public school system than, say, the American system," says buying agent Robert Bailey, many of whose clients want second homes for education-related reasons. "That is, the American system is more sports-led and a lot less arduous academically. We are very results-orientated."

The attraction of a British boarding school is also perhaps an unconscious backlash against the globalised era of You Tube, the IPod and the other relentless technology assailing children. The public school boarding house is seen as a bastion of discipline and offers the original and unsurpassable version of social websites such as Facebook and Bebo: the old school tie network. Not that all parents are up to speed with the protocol. "I am constantly being asked if I can try and pull a few strings and, you know, offer a school a sizeable 'donation'," says Bailey.

Education consultant Martin Humphrys says he has never been so inundated with requests for schools and has witnessed a marked increase in interest from emerging countries, especially Russia and China.

"The demand for places is very high at the moment," says Humphrys. "We've been in that situation for about the past nine years." But if overseas parents' dreams for their children are somehow bound up with the public school system, Humphrys reckons that 99 per cent of his job is about managing their expectations.

"Places are at a premium in the key schools such as Eton and the entrance exams are incredibly tough for children whose first language isn't English," he explains. "And there are certain schools that, if parents haven't registered their child by the age of 10 and a half they're not going to get them in at 13."

Even if the star names are oversubscribed, Humphrys is firm in his conviction that British public schools offer the best education in the world. "London especially has excellent schools, from nurseries right through to senior schools," he says. "People come here because you will not find schools bettered anywhere."

Although there are no specific statistics on how many overseas nationals relocate to the UK to buy second homes, many parents will want somewhere in the capital for family get-togethers, especially during boarding school holidays. To that extent their housing needs are more prêt-a-porter than couture.

"These buyers are looking for easy maintenance, lock-up-and-leave apartments that are secure, with 24-hour porterage," says Camilla Dell of buying agents Black Brick Property Solutions. "They want them in safe areas such as St John's Wood or Knightsbridge for when the children reach 16 or 17 and stay there by themselves, and that are good for public transport."

But matching the right child to the right school often means looking outside London. "The most important thing is that the school is a genuine boarding school and not dominated by flexi or weekly boarders with just a trickle of overseas children left at the weekends," says Catherine Stoker, director of education and guardianship services at educational consultancy Gabbitas. To that end, schools such as Marlborough and Haileybury in Herfordshire and Uppingham in Rutland are popular choices.

Berkshire schools close to Heathrow airport are also popular choices for overseas parents with children returning home at the end of each term - notably Bradfield College, Wellington College, and St George's at Ascot. And different nationalities have their own reasons for being often drawn to particular parts of the UK.

"In Tokyo they tend to live in apartments the size of postage stamps and so they love going to boarding schools set in large historical buildings," says Stoker. "We just took a Japanese girl to see Gordonstoun [in Scotland] and she loved it."

That blue-chip schools attract great wealth and prestige to the nation is music to the ears of Tony Little, head master of Eton College. "Ours is very much a British school and we are already over-subscribed from our British market. We don't actually have figures for nationality but the figure that springs to mind is about 100 boys [from overseas] out of 1,300," he says.

"UK independent schools have the strongest track record of any sector anywhere," he explains. "When you speak to people in, say, Russia or China, what they admire most is our great tradition of liberal education."

By this Little means that it is holistic and centred upon the person. "The Chinese, for example, are very conscious of the fact that they are strong in theoretical 'Confucian-style' education but the British system has the X-factor of building students' confidence and practical abilities in the wider world."

London also has highly regarded international schools serving the needs of foreign families, especially those relocating for short periods. Notable examples include the French Lycée in Kensington, Marymount in Kingston upon Thames, Woodside Park in Frien Barnet and Egham International in Surrey, all of which operate the International Baccalaureate system.

Those of us who live in the St John's Wood district of north London can be in no doubt as to the knock-on effect that a prestigious school can have on an area. The American School, which has existed in various incarnations since 1969, is one of the principal drivers in the local economy. Its presence is felt in everything from the cost of quality housing to the lengths of the queues at Starbucks.

Americans are the dominant group relocating to London. "[They] represent a large percentage of our sales and lettings," says James Simpson of estate agency Knight Frank's St. John's Wood office. "Most Americans rent but we also get investors looking to buy to rent to American families. Principally they want detached five-bedroom Victorian homes in side streets."

Greek-born Alicia Cornelius and her husband, Alex, a banker, divide their time between New York, Athens and London, where their 14-year old daughter is at boarding school. "We have a two-bedroom flat in a new-build block overlooking the river that just takes care of itself," says Cornelius.

Her own upbringing as much as her regard for the British school system came into play when deciding upon her daughter's education. "My parents were diplomats, so I went to at least a dozen schools around the world," she says. "I meet a lot of people today who went through the same and want nothing more than to settle their children in one place throughout their schooling."

Naomi Heaton of property investors London Central Portfolio, finds that mapping out your child's educational needs is not so different to mapping out an investment plan. "In both cases you are looking at around an eight-year cycle," she observes. "Your child is likely to be here at school or college for eight years and we see that time as the normal doubling of the London (market) cycle. In my experience, buying for the children is just a good rationale for something that people were going to do anyway."

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008

FT: Health tourism: Flying abroad for treatment takes off

Healthcare 2008

Health tourism: Flying abroad for treatment takes off

By Salamander Davoudi

Published: July 3 2008 02:56 | Last updated: July 3 2008 02:56

Where do you go if you want a sparkling white Hollywood smile for half the price? Savvy medical tourists are likely to say Hungary. What about hip and knee replacements? India or France.

Not so long ago travelling abroad for medical care was considered too risky. But attitudes are changing as more and more people choose to abandon their home countries and fly elsewhere for treatment.

A report this year by Deloitte, the consultancy, found that two in five Americans would consider travelling to a foreign country for a medical procedure if it cost half the US price and quality was at least equal.

Looking at the cost savings involved, it is easy to understand why. An aortic valve replacement costs more than $100,000 in the US, about $38,000 in Latin America and $12,000 in Asia.

A hip replacement can cost up to £15,000 ($29,845) in the UK, but is only £5,000 in Germany or £3,600 in India. An IVF package for infertility patients going to Turkey costs only £1,700.

“Globally nobody really knows how many health tourists there are,” says Keith Pollard, spokesman for Treatment Abroad, the operator of healthcare information sites.

“We know for the UK last year there were around 100,000 people going for some form of treatment as the primary reason for travel.”

The number of Britons going abroad for treatment has nearly doubled over the past two years, largely reflecting a big rise in dental tourists.

“About 40 per cent are dental patients. That has boomed due to a reduction in National Health Service dentistry and what you can actually get done on the NHS. The average spend is about £4,000 for what would have cost them £12,000 to £15,000 in the UK,” says Mr Pollard.

A study carried out by McKinsey, the consultancy, found that although medical travellers have different motives, the cheaper procedures and cosmetic operations represent only a small part of the market.

“Most of these people seek the world’s most advanced technology, better quality or quicker access to medical care,” according to the report, Mapping the Market for Medical Travel.

McKinsey estimates that the medical tourism market – excluding dentistry and including only those whose primary and explicit purpose in travelling is medical treatment as an inpatient in a foreign country – is very small, at around 60,000 to 85,000 people a year.

The Middle East is one of the biggest exporters of medical travellers, according to Paul Mango, director at McKinsey. “That will change over time, given the huge construction campaign under way there to build acute care capability and import medical competency,” he says.

Current barriers to market growth include a lack of transparency on quality, unclear malpractice jurisdiction, the unwillingness of large insurers to cover medical travel destinations in their networks, and the difficulty of travelling.

“If you pay them for treatment, you are in their jurisdiction. If you have a problem, you have to go to the local authorities or courts in that country for redress,” says Mr Mango.

“But in my experience there is zero quality difference between many of these hospitals and what you can get in a western developed economy.”

Patients are advised to check that the hospital they are to be treated in is accredited by the Joint Commission International, a division of the body that rates US hospitals.

It has so far accredited about 100 hospitals in 25 countries.

The future direction of the medical travel market has important ramifications for governments, employers and health insurers.

If US employers were willing to pay for a covered employee’s medical procedure of equivalent quality abroad it would significantly lower overall healthcare costs, say observers.

“If payers covered medical travel the potential US market would probably range from 500,000 to 700,000 patients a year, compared with 5,000 to 7,000 today. The savings might be in the order of $20bn,” according to the McKinsey report.

Mr Pollard says a health insurance product is being launched in the UK this year based on medical tourism. It will be the first of its kind.

“In the US, many of the insurers and healthcare plan managers are beginning to ship patients overseas to save on healthcare costs. In countries in South America and in Mexico, there are now purpose-built hospitals appearing to service the needs of US patients crossing the border,” says Mr Pollard.

According to the McKinsey report, 40 per cent of all medical travellers are seeking the world’s most advanced technologies and 32 per cent are seeking better care than they can get in their home countries and are often based in the developing world.

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008

FT: Dream machine

Dream machine

By Michael Skapinker

Published: July 5 2008 03:00 | Last updated: July 5 2008 03:00

In 1972, 25-year-old Tony Wheeler and his new wife Maureen bought an old car and decided to drive it as far from London as it would go. They reached Kabul, where they sold it at a profit. From there, they carried on by bus and train over the Khyber Pass and then kept going until they arrived in Sydney with 27 Australian cents left.

Wheeler had just graduated from the London Business School. The couple thought the journey would flush the travel bug from their systems before they settled down. Instead, it never left them. The trip led to their founding Lonely Planet, the travel publishing company - which means they now have more than 27 cents.

Looking back, Wheeler says their trip was part of one of the most important developments of the last decades of the 20th century: the explosive growth and spread of international tourism.

Wheeler and his wife were baby boomers, indulging in the sort of travel that became typical of their generation. They went to places, many then untouched by tourism, that would have seemed extraordinarily adventurous to previous generations, he writes in Trends and Issues in Global Tourism 2008 , a volume of papers by travel chief executives and academics from last year's ITB Berlin, the world's premier international tourism fair.

When Lonely Planet took off in the 1970s, Wheeler recalls, China was closed to the outside world. You could go to Hong Kong and look across the border with binoculars. Today, Lonely Planet not only produces guidebooks to China in several languages; it also publishes guidebooks to other countries in Chinese.

Travel has moved on since Lonely Planet began. Travellers are now more experienced. Some are still happy to trot around in groups. Others are content to return to the same villa each year. But many ask the Monty Python question: "What's the point of going abroad if you're just another tourist?"

These travellers want something further off the beaten track. Yet they also want everything to work. Holidays require an anxious investment of time and money. As one of the contributions to Trends and Issues points out: "Vacations are a scarce resource. The annual number of vacation days is limited; the anticipation of rest and relaxation for this time is nevertheless immense. And, to top it off, vacations are expensive. A family of four has to invest the equivalent of purchasing a used compact car."

These three books sum up the dichotomy. The tourism chiefs represented in Trends and Issues have to provide security and certainty to travellers if their businesses are to survive. But they need to promise adventure and romance too - the sort suggested by National Geographic's Journeys of a Lifetime: 500 of the World's Greatest Trips .

If your idea of a holiday is riding the Darjeeling Toy Train from "the paddy fields of northern Bengal to the misty tea gardens of the Himalayan foothills" or sharing a Bedouin feast ("cardamom coffee and lamb roasted in yoghurt") in a thatched goat-hair tent in Jordan, this is the book for you.

As you would expect from National Geographic, everything is beautifully photographed, but the trips themselves - "wonderful, indelible, life-changing journeys" - sound a little too charmed to be true. These essays, anonymously written in the style of elegant travel brochures, present a world in which all aromas are heady, vineyards are sun-touched, waters are crystal clear and scenes are "biblical in their timelessness".

Journeys of a Lifetime allows that western Scotland is "notoriously wet", but does that really matter when you can "follow in the footsteps of Bonnie Prince Charlie on a journey of high romance among Scotland's mountain-ringed lochs and dreamy glens"? Reality does threaten to break through on a luxury train journey from Rajasthan to New Delhi, where you are warned that all this pampering "can't shield you from the real essence of any trip to India: the hubbub of streets crammed with rickshaws, sacred cows, camels and the ever-present" - what, grinding poverty? No - "aroma of spices".

Given the weight of expectations, holidays are bound to fall short of the Journeys of a Lifetime ideal. Experienced travellers joining this summer's airport queues will discover how far short: flight delays, hotel rooms above noisy streets, non-stop rain, stomach upsets. Travel often doesn't feel like fun. Sometimes, says Peter Greenberg in The Complete Travel Detective Bible , it feels like abuse.

Greenberg is the travel editor of NBC's Today show. His book is too fat to take with you; you are probably meant to read it at home before you pack. It is full of advice about how to avoid travel's disappointments. Take stomach upsets, for example. Always carry your own bottle of water on to the aircraft, Greenberg says. Don't drink from the water bottles on the flight attendant's trolley. Airlines have been known to fill them from aircraft holding tanks, where the US Environmental Protection Agency in 2004 detected nasty bacteria. The EPA also advised against drinking tea or coffee during your flight: the airlines don't heat the water to a temperature sufficient to kill pathogens.

When you get into your hotel room, tear off the bedspread and throw it into the corner (it may harbour goodness knows what) and clean the telephone handset and television remote control with wet wipes. This is so important that Greenberg tells us twice. (This book is a little repetitive but then you are probably not supposed to read it from beginning to end. Given how much Greenberg warns you may go wrong, you might be too scared to leave for the airport if you did.)

Greenberg tells us it is no good clicking on a window seat on the web-based aircraft diagram. It may be cramped: check on seatguru.com to suss out the legroom. You may want to change airlines when you have looked at the photographs of inflight meals that helpful passengers have posted on airlinemeals.net. And don't forget to check your hotel's mattresses on bedbugregistry.com.

There are fascinating details that you probably don't need to know but can always use to enliven conversation with the person in the seat next to you. For example, Singapore Airline's Airbus 340-500 aircraft has a dedicated corpse cupboard. This is to avoid the sort of awkwardness British Airways encountered when cabin crew carried the body of an economy passenger who had died into first class, where there was more room. (A BA flight attendant told the passenger who objected to sitting next to the deceased to "get over it".)

But once he has instructed us on how not to get ripped off or let down, Greenberg is off on the usual tack of avoiding the madding crowd and finding true adventure. Here is modern travel's dual demand for safety and novelty in one book: once you have wiped all those germs off the remote control, why not pretend to risk your life?

Have you, for example, considered a storm-chasing holiday? Tempest Tours arranges for you to follow tornadoes in America's Great Plains. Dallas-based Tornado Research and Defense Development guarantees that if you don't see at least two storms in a week you can have a $200 discount on your next trip.

Adventure travel company Covert Ops allows you to "unleash your inner James Bond" with a three-day programme in Tucson, Arizona of high-speed evasive driving, crashing through barricades, running attack vehicles off the road, mastering espionage techniques and recognising explosives. If that is too tame, Air Combat USA will teach you to fly fighter aircraft and challenge fellow holidaymakers to aerial dogfights.

Behind the faux-danger, the travel bosses at ITB Berlin recognise what's happening here: Tony Wheeler's generation have been travelling for years and, as they reach retirement, they have the money, time and desire to do something different. "Individualisation in society is without doubt a mega-trend for the future," say Hans Rück of the University of Applied Sciences in Worms, Germany, and Marcus Mende, chief executive of Schober Information, a marketing group, in Trends and Issues . Many consumer goods and services industries have segmented their markets, tailoring products for different groups, and tourism is no different.

But that doesn't mean mass travel belongs to the past. While the Lonely Planet crew may have experience sun-etched into their skins, somewhere in the world new travellers are tremulously setting out for the first time, many on all-inclusive packages. The numbers of tourists from Poland, the Czech Republic and Russia are growing fast. In the early 1980s, a little more than 1m Indians travelled abroad. By 2006, the figure was 8m.

The new travellers mean there is little likelihood of tourism slowing down. Apart from holidays, millions now need to travel to see their families. Trends and Issues points out that there are 191m people living outside the countries of their birth. Unlike previous generations of migrants, who often never saw their families again, today's "global clans" can fly back home. They present the industry with new opportunities. No doubt these new travellers will one day, too, want to tack on a weekend of skydiving to their family visits.

Can anything stop the growth of tourism? The business is not immune to downturns. After 9/11, it went though a rare dip but has since grown strongly. Individual countries and regions have had setbacks: Egypt, Turkey and the UK have suffered terrorist attacks. Asian destinations were damaged or destroyed by the 2004 tsunami.

But a few quiet years dampensuch memories. And with the right infrastructure, new destinations can be conjured almost from nothing: look at Dubai, with its skyscrapers, sports tournaments and shopping centres.

The rising price of fuel might slow things for a while too, but the environment is a longer-term consideration. As Trends and Issues says, tourism both contributes to and suffers from climate change. Flights add to carbon emissions; the tourist hordes strain water supplies.

Destinations suffer too. European ski slopes sometimes lack snow. The Mediterranean summers can be unbearably hot. But if the snow melts, ski spots can become mountain resorts. If Spain and Greece become overheated in August, their peak seasons can be moved to to spring and autumn. And although European tourism has traditionally seen people travel from the cool and cloudy north to the sunny south, if global warming makes the north balmier, tourist traffic might flow in the other direction.

Throughout its relatively short history, international tourism has shown immense adaptability, and so have tourists. If their aircraft (along with cars, factories and other climate changers) make their favoured distinations uncomfortable, they will find others. Dissatisfaction and disappointment are travel's inescapable accompaniments. But travellers never stop hoping. Somewhere, they believe, they will find the perfect holiday. These books are testament to their determination to carry on looking.

Michael Skapinker is an FT columnist

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008

FT: Global tourism defies slowing trends

Global tourism defies slowing trends

By Harvey Morris at the United Nations

Published: July 5 2008 02:06 | Last updated: July 5 2008 02:06

Confronted with the gloom-inducing uncertainties of the credit squeeze, soaring food and oil prices, and global warming, anyone who can still afford to is opting to get away from it all.

International tourism is apparently defying the global trend towards belt-tightening and actually grew year-on-year by about 5 per cent in the first four months of 2008, according to the United Nations World Tourism Organisation.

EDITOR’S CHOICE

US makes its pitch to British holidaymakers - Jul-02

Storm clouds gather over UK travel industry - Jun-21

Northern cities enjoy booming hotel business - May-18

Tibet visa ban dents tourism in Nepal - May-04

Aquatic park urges investors to splash out - Feb-16

US tourists move on from Britain - Feb-15

UNWTO’s bi-annual World Tourism Barometer, due to be published next week, will predict that growthwill continue through 2008 and withstand a global economic climate that “has deteriorated since the last quarter of 2007, reducing consumer confidence and putting pressure on household spending and travel budgets”.

The UN agency logs about 900m international arrivals a year at present after exceptional growth in tourism of 7 per cent annually between 2004 and 2007. A buoyant world economy and pent-up demand, after the security concerns that deterred many travellers after the 9/11 attacks on the US in 2001 and during the Iraq war, translated into boom years for the travel industry.

The big spenders in 2007 remained tourists from the developed world, with Germany, the US, the UK and France taking the top four spots. China,however, overtook Japan for the first time with a $30bn (€19bn, £15bn) share of a world market valued at almost $900bn a year. Russia overtook South Korea to rank ninth.

All tourist destinations have benefited from this year’s growth, though it has been faster in north America, thanks to a weaker dollar, and slower in Europe, where the euro has strengthened.

The main gainers were destinations in the Middle East, Asia and Latin America. Egypt and Morocco, China, South Korea, Cambodia and Nepal, and El Salvador and Peru were among countries that saw double-digit growth rates during the first half of the year.

In Europe, Sweden, Latvia, Montenegro and Israel – European for the purposes of the survey – also pushed growth into two figures, as did those antagonistic neighbours, Cuba and the US.

But in a week in which UN economists reported that concerns about the future were spiralling in all regions and among all economic sectors, the UNWTO sounded a note of caution.

Francesco Frangialli, UNWTO’s secretary-general, said: “The extent of any tourism demand adjustment and its consequences for the sector will depend on how the economy evolves and consumers react, both of which are directly interrelated to oil and food prices.”

As for the global crises that beset the travelling and non-travelling world alike, UNWTO believes tourism has a role to play. In a recent strategy statement it noted that tourism was a strong contributor to balance of payments, highly labour-intensive and helped promote farming and fishing, handicrafts and construction.

As for climate change – and as every rained-out holidaymaker would agree – “for all forms of tourism activities taking place outdoors, accurate climate and weather information is key for the planning and carrying out of trips and programmes”.

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008

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FT: 'I feel less afraid of the world'

And there are several more about the Dalai Lama, who, like Palin, is also known to laugh easily. "He came in and shook my hand and then he shook the hands of every member of the [film] crew," says Palin. "People just don't bother, they don't notice [the crew. But] he took each person in and I felt, 'I must remember that.' "

I notice my digital recorder appears not to be working. "Does it switch itself off when it's bored?" he wonders, the comic timing that first made him famous as part of the Monty Python team in the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s still in evidence.

"I always bring it down to the personal experience," he replies. "The other thing is to give a voice to people who don't normally have a voice, who would not be interviewed generally and to go to places where people would not normally go."

am worried that this is a bit like telling Paul McCartney you never listened to the Beatles. "I'm immensely relieved," he says to my own relief. "In some people's eyes it makes one totally legendary. I find talking about Python not that exciting because people tend to want to hear about how their favourite sketch was written or some anecdote involving The Life of Brian ."

I laugh out loud but Palin goes on, more seriously, to say: "I'm not pretending there aren't dangers but I think saying, 'These are the places we should not go,' restricts communication and curiosity. I do a lot of talks and people sometimes ask you very earnest questions, 'What do you know about the world now?' And, God, I don't know anything. Whoever said travel is more about questions than answers got it exactly right. I get more confused but the one thing I do feel is less afraid of the world than I would if I didn't travel."

===

'I feel less afraid of the world'

By Rahul Jacob

Published: June 28 2008 03:00 | Last updated: June 28 2008 03:00

When Michael Palin met the Dalai Lama a few years ago, the Tibetan leader said he recognised Palin from his television travel programmes. The two quickly discovered that they had shared a passion for geography from an early age. "It's just an assumption but I felt a certain empathy when he was talking about how atlases were his favourite books when he was young and I said they had been mine too," recalls Palin.

Palin met the Dalai Lama in Dharamsala in northern India, where he has lived in exile for nearly 50 years since fleeing China in a dramatic 15-day journey by foot. A few weeks later, Palin found himself in the Dalai Lama's apartments in the Potala Palace in Lhasa while filming a series on the Himalayas. "Looking out over the city and the plains, I thought, 'This is what he was doing growing up in the 1950s and there was me in Sheffield looking at an atlas also.' "

Palin has barely sat down at Wiltons restaurant in St James's before he is telling stories. First there is one about how he was once photographed during lunch and how acutely embarrassing it was. The photographer's enormous lamps had shone a spotlight on him in the middle of the restaurant. It was, he says, "admirable" that everyone else carried on as if this were entirely normal.

There is one about his own failure to show a similar level of restraint when, at a friend's wedding, the registrar read out all the bridegroom's middle names, including one that none of his friends had known before. Everyone was laughing "including his betrothed", Palin recalls, and the only way out was to look as if "we were very moved".

And there are several more about the Dalai Lama, who, like Palin, is also known to laugh easily. "He came in and shook my hand and then he shook the hands of every member of the [film] crew," says Palin. "People just don't bother, they don't notice [the crew. But] he took each person in and I felt, 'I must remember that.' "

I notice my digital recorder appears not to be working. "Does it switch itself off when it's bored?" he wonders, the comic timing that first made him famous as part of the Monty Python team in the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s still in evidence.

This year marks the 20th anniversary of the filming of Around the World in 80 Days , the BBC programme that marked the launch of Palin's hugely successful second act as a travel journalist. Its success prompted epic television adventures such as Pole to Pole (1992), Sahara with Michael Palin (2002) and Himalaya with Michael Palin (2004).

Aside from the great landscape shots, the charm of watching Palin's shows lies in his ability to put people at ease even when he doesn't share a common language. Watching Michael Palin's New Europe , first aired last year, I chuckled through an episode in Latvia where Palin is made to wear a wreath about the size of a bush and participates in a pagan dance, all of which he goes along with gamely. In Turkey, a young woman tells him she dated a man who participated in the local passion for wrestling in leather pantaloons after olive oil has been poured all over the combatants and Palin sets off to investigate.

In the book that accompanied the series, Palin writes of being on a boat at dawn, making its way along Croatia's coastline. "What I am looking out on now is Dalmatia and I'm not the only one excited by it . . . Shakespeare set part of Twelfth Night here. Dalmatia, homeland of the Illyrians, was settled 5,000 years even before the Greeks and Romans arrived. This is not new Europe, this is very old Europe."

Our first courses arrive remarkably quickly - gazpacho for me and smoked eel for him. Aware from my own experience as the FT's travel editor of the challenges of travel writing in an era when so many of us are frequent flyers, I ask how he keeps his work interesting and relevant. "I always bring it down to the personal experience," he replies. "The other thing is to give a voice to people who don't normally have a voice, who would not be interviewed generally and to go to places where people would not normally go."

The inspiration for New Europe came from his feeling, when waking up on a long-haul flight back to London, that he was flying above places that were just two hours from Heathrow but which he knew little about. I suggest the series resonated partly because so much of the workforce in Britain is from eastern Europe, not least the staff in restaurants. Later I ask the waitress where she is from and this leads to an animated conversation between her and Palin about her native Moldova. His empathy builds bridges with people he meets - and in turn with audiences around the world.

Our main courses - poached halibut for him and grilled salmon for me - have been brought as speedily as the first course and this prompts Palin to remark on how unusually attentive the restaurant's service is by London's standards. Before he came here he had assumed the quintessentially British Wiltons ("since 1742"), complete with green velvet banquettes in separate booths, would be the sort of place that "members of the House of Lords visited with their researchers". On his previous visit, however, he remembers a group of businessmen from Dubai trooped over to his table and asked him to look them up when he was next there. Palin says he picked the restaurant for our meeting today because it is quiet and apologises because it is expensive.

By this point, I am relaxed enough to confess that, having grown up in Calcutta, I never watched Palin in Monty Python's Flying Circus , the TV series that made him and the other Pythons - including Eric Idle and John Cleese - comedy legends, nor in the subsequent Python films. I am worried that this is a bit like telling Paul McCartney you never listened to the Beatles. "I'm immensely relieved," he says to my own relief. "In some people's eyes it makes one totally legendary. I find talking about Python not that exciting because people tend to want to hear about how their favourite sketch was written or some anecdote involving The Life of Brian ."

Palin traces his gift for comedy back to boarding school, where he enjoyed impersonating teachers. As a 10-year-old in 1953, he developed a mini-cabaret based on the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. "I would tell this running story about the coronation and it was about the Duke of Edinburgh being taken short."

I ask whether it was ever performed on stage in school and this leads Palin to reminisce about how his father, an engineer at a steel mill, was wary of his son's interest in acting. "He just saw this as a folly that would lead to a life of dependence on him. I didn't realise until he died quite how little [money] he had. He put about a third of his salary, about £500 a year, into educating me at Shrewsbury."

When he was growing up, Palin had assumed that his father had a particular dislike of theatre. In fact, "it was all to do with his hoping that I would eventually get a good job, probably better than he got."

Returning to travel, Palin recounts how an Ethiopian approached him in London a couple of years ago and thanked him for not showing his country as a victim. "Everybody has a sense of pride about where they live," he says. "I don't think the way to help is to say, 'Help is on its way from the World Bank.' I remember being in Tanzania once and the World Bank representative was in Dar es Salaam to discuss the next five years of Tanzania's economic cycle. They all seemed in terrible awe of him. I am not an interventionist. I really find that when we intervene, we just cock it up."

We discuss a shared concern - the often overly alarmist travel warnings issued by the UK Foreign Office and US State Department against visiting many parts of the developing world - and this produces another rich anecdote. When Palin was filming a few years ago in the admittedly dangerous tribal areas of northern Pakistan, a posse of 10 local policemen was sent to accompany him and the BBC crew. He wandered into a local market "to watch people make guns".

"A man came up and talked quite aggressively about the British and our policy towards Pakistan and Afghanistan and I remember thinking, 'This could get nasty and I'm glad we have 10 security guys with us.' They were nowhere to be seen. It did not turn into a problem at all but I said later, 'Where were the guys?' It turned out that the police were so pleased to be with the BBC, they were having a group photo taken with the camera crew."

I laugh out loud but Palin goes on, more seriously, to say: "I'm not pretending there aren't dangers but I think saying, 'These are the places we should not go,' restricts communication and curiosity. I do a lot of talks and people sometimes ask you very earnest questions, 'What do you know about the world now?' And, God, I don't know anything. Whoever said travel is more about questions than answers got it exactly right. I get more confused but the one thing I do feel is less afraid of the world than I would if I didn't travel."

After decades of travelling, however, Palin, who turned 65 last month, has decided that he wants to stay home with his wife Helen, who once joked that she might have to divorce him because she had tired of answering questions from reporters about what a nice man he was. Being away for several weeks at a time has become a bore for Palin and he wants to enjoy watching his two-year-old grandson grow up.

Then, after allowing me to quiz him obsessively about my favourite actress, Maggie Smith, whom he has worked with, Palin thanks me and rushes off to another appointment. He was right about the bill - it is exorbitant - but, hearing the jollity prompted by Palin's goodbyes to the staff at the front of the restaurant, I think that you can't put a price on that ability to make people laugh.

'New Europe' by Michael Palin is out now in paperback (Orion Books, £7.99)

Rahul Jacob is the FT's travel, food and drink editor

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008

FT:How airlines try to curry favour with high-fliers

How airlines try to curry favour with high-fliers

By Rhymer Rigby

Published: May 20 2008 03:00 | Last updated: May 20 2008 03:00

Frequent flyers will have noticed some changes in airline food over the past couple of years. In economy, the meal has often shrivelled or disappeared altogether. But for those who turn left when getting on planes, in-flight meals in business and first class have got better as airlines enlist the help of celebrity chefs and try to recreate a restaurant experience in the sky.

Carol Conway, food innovation manager at British Airways, says the airline is working with leading British chefs including Shaun Hill of the Walnut Tree Inn, Michel Roux of Waterside Inn at Bray and Vineet Bhatia from Rasoi in London's Sloane Square. She says the current trend is British classics - such as shepherd's pie and afternoon tea with strawberries and cream.

Catherine Nugent, head of communications at Gate Gourmet, which supplies meals to dozens of airlines, says it is focusing on local sourcing: "Our procurement team searches for small niche producers - exactly as you see in restaurants." She points out that there are several constraints on preparing food in the air, adding that "a lot of chefs who work with us do it for the challenge".

Peter Jones, a professor at the UK's Surrey University who specialises in the study of airline food, says an increasingly popular trend is to prepare meals on-board in first class. Some airlines such as Gulf Air have "chefs" dressed in full whites. "Due to the constraints of equipping planes and the practicalities of cooking on board, most of this approach is the finishing of a dish through the assembly of pre-prepared components," he says.

Prof Jones concedes that while this is not the same as a restaurant experience, it does allow for fresher presentation and a degree of tailoring to individual tastes. "One airline has experimented with allowing first-class passengers to request whatever they would like so long as they give 24 hours notice," he says.

However, even in first and business class the airlines are stuck with a number of constraints that no restaurant on the ground has to contend with. Most meals must be prepared beforehand and then reheated, and the altitude - cabins are typically pressurised to 8,000ft - deadens the tastebuds. This is why strong flavours and foods in sauces tend to work well, and is one reason why the spicier cuisine of Asian airlines, such as Malaysia and Singapore, usually scores highly. Similarly, in spite of improvements in food technology, a decent in-flight soufflé remains elusive.

There are also other less obvious constraints, says Ms Conway: "One of the most important things is that we get some people again and again. Our very frequent customers are on the planes more often than the crew.Ensuring they have choice and variety is a real challenge."

For those who want to opt out of the system- but are disinclined to pack their own sandwiches - Los Angeles-based Sky Meals offers an alternative. For $20 to $30 (£10-£15) per meal, it will deliver travellers their own airline food. "As long as you call before 3pm on the day before your flight, we'll make and deliver your meal in a cool-bag to your office or limo or airport," says founder Richard Katz, adding that about 50 per cent of his customers are business travellers. He says women outnumber men two to one: "Men tend to be functional eaters, whereas women care more about what they eat and are better at planning ahead."

There is also the question of what to drink with your dinner. Liam Steevenson runs UK wine distributor Red & White and supplies business-only airline Silverjet with the wine to match the menu designed by Le Caprice. Like food, he says, wine tastes different at altitude: "Acidity and tannins get accentuated and you lose the middle fruit. So wines like Sancerre and Chablis thin out considerably, whereas many New World wines will taste much better."

But wine choice is also a question of combining what works and what passengers expect, says Mr Steevenson. "Champagne is a classic example of an acidic wine. But everyone wants it - it's a feel-good product." He saysSilverjet conducts in-air tastings for passengers and that one of the real pluses of working for a small airline is that you can offer more esoteric boutique wines that are produced in far smaller quantities.

So, what meal would work best given at 35,000ft? Funnily enough, says Mr Steevenson, it is a combination that tends not to be associated with business or first-class travel: "If you look at all the constraints, a curry and a beer is pretty much the perfect in-flight food."

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008

Random Photo Found Online

FT: Art travels with Babar

Art travels with Babar

By Brooke Masters

Published: February 2 2008 00:22 | Last updated: February 2 2008 00:22

Mommy, I think I’ve found one. Come on,” Andrew, my eight-year-old son is practically quivering with excitement. He pulls my arm as we walk through the museum in Paris. “It’s her, isn’t it,” he says with pride, pointing to a dark figure on the wall.

He is right. The painting is James McNeill Whistler’s “Arrangement in Grey and Black”, better known as “Whistler’s Mother”, and we have been looking all over Paris for her.

It all started when my husband John and I were living in a suburb of New York City and we began reading the books about Babar the Elephant by Jean de Brunhoff and his son Laurent. Among the standard tales of Babar’s children and his war with the rhinoceroses, we discovered Babar’s Museum of Art, an introduction to masterpieces of art with all the human figures changed into elephants. (Picture Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam” with a bearded elephant reaching out to a naked one, and Georges-Pierre Seurat’s “Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte” populated with pachyderms and you’ll get the idea.)

One bedtime, we were speeding through the story, which describes the conversion of an elephant railway station into a museum, when my daughter Eleanor, then barely three, stopped me at a picture of an Egyptian-style temple. “Mommy, we’ve seen that,” she said. Indeed we had. It was an elephant version of the Temple of Dendur exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, complete with the slanted glass wall overlooking Central Park. “Can we see the other pages too?” Eleanor asked.

With that a project was born. The Babar book helpfully includes the names of each artist and painting or sculpture in an index at the back, so we looked each one up on the internet to discover its location. We started with the New York museums and quickly learnt that young children cannot live on art alone. The leisurely strolls around galleries that I used to enjoy in my pre-children days have been replaced by surgical strikes.

Essential aids on the art trail

Shelter: We’ve found the best options for travelling with children tend to be apartments or hotels with pools. Chain hotels lack character but are more likely to offer rooms with two beds that will fit the whole family. Corporate apartments, which make it easier to cater for picky eaters, can be a bargain during weekends and holiday periods, though they are often located in business areas rather than near the sights.

Food: carry snack-sized packages of favourite treats for ill-timed hunger pangs. Restaurants with children’s menus can cut food costs but our children get tired of chicken nuggets and spaghetti. Mix things up with a visit to a market for fresh bread, cheese, fruits and vegetables and have a picnic.

Entertainment: A portable DVD player makes flights more enjoyable. Battery life is far more important than picture or sound quality. Other possibilities include small toys (Playmobil and Matchbox cars are good) and books related to the destination. Classic picture books include Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans, Kay Thompson’s Eloise and the This is London (or Rome or Paris etc) series by Miroslav Sasek. The Katie series by James Mayhew is all about masterworks of art. For older children, try the Horrible Histories books by Terry Deary, The Magic Treehouse series by Mary Pope Osborne and the Astérix books by René Goscinny. Bring paper and crayons or markers everywhere to pass the time in long lines and in slow restaurants.

Breaks for snacks or lunch in the museum cafeteria are a must. If we get an uninterrupted hour in the galleries, I count myself fortunate. We have also become experts at finding places to play near the museums we want to see. The Ancient Playground on Fifth Avenue beside the Metropolitan is lovely for children of all ages, as it has a sandy bottom, pyramid-shaped climbing equipment and a water spray area in the summer time. At New York’s Museum of Modern Art, a visit to Jackson Pollock’s “One: Number 31” was frankly overshadowed by the Bell-47D1 helicopter installation and the snack bar beside the sculpture garden.

Last year, we learnt we were moving to London. During a brief visit to pick out schools and a place to live, Andrew spotted one of the Babar pictures (Jan van Eyck’s “Portrait of Giovanni Arnolfini and His Wife”) on a poster in the Tube. The National Gallery went to the top of our to-do list and the Babar art quest was reinvigorated. The children were older and occasionally willing to pause in front of masterpieces even when elephants were not involved. Trafalgar Square’s lions and fountains proved to be an acceptable substitute for a playground. We timed our visit to Tate Modern to coincide with the giant slide installation but a walk along the river probably would have done nearly as well.

The half-term trip to Paris, however, was more ambitious. All our previous museum excursions involved a single afternoon or morning at a time. The Babars in Paris were spread all over town and we hoped to squeeze in a trip to Versailles as well. In a fit of optimism, I ordered two-day Paris Museum passes, (€30 plus a €12 shipping charge if you buy online in advance). It would only be worth the money if we made it to at least four museums, churches or palaces in two days. We also booked rooms at the Hotel St James & Albany, located within walking distance of both the Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay, home to seven of the Babar masterworks.

The hotel rooms were dingy but the breakfast buffet was ample and it was hard to beat the location across from the Jardins des Tuileries, less than a block from a Métro station. We set out early for the Louvre, breezed past the line for tickets (thank-you museum pass) and started looking for the “Mona Lisa”. But the surprisingly small lady with the enigmatic smile wasn’t our only stop. Both children were by now interested enough in Leonardo da Vinci that they wanted to see his other paintings and we had several other artists to find. Eleanor, five, was the first to spot Eugène Delacroix’s “Liberty Leading the People” and Andrew helped us navigate our way down the stairs to the “Venus de Milo”.

Before our next art excursion, we set out for lunch at the Eiffel Tower. Warned by a fellow soccer mom that the regular queue to get to the top could be brutal during school holidays, I had booked a table at Altitude 95, the less expensive of the two restaurants located in the tower.

It has a separate ticket booth and lets you bypass the wait for the first elevator. The food was surprisingly good – the kids had salmon while John and I had oysters. There was no escaping the 25-minute line for the elevator to the top but the children said the view was worth the wait.

Our next stop, the Musée d’Orsay, was the model for Babar’s art gallery. (In the story, Queen Celeste decides to convert the old train station into a museum, much as Parisians did with the old Quai d’Orsay.) Here we would have our encounters with Manet, Monet and “Whistler’s Mother”. We also struck it lucky: there was a temporary exhibit of Auguste Rodin’s plaster model for his statue of Balzac, sparing us the need for a separate trip to the Rodin Museum.

Much as I like Rodin’s work, three art museums in a weekend had seemed like a bit much. So we stopped for hot chocolate in the café tucked behind the old railroad station clock and spent the rest of the afternoon in a playground in the Tuileries.

Versailles impressed the children with its sheer size and the dust on the cobblestones outside. Eleanor liked the old furniture.

Andrew didn’t exactly share her enthusiasm but they both enjoyed the Hall of Mirrors, which had figured prominently in another well-loved picture book, Eloise in Paris by Kay Thompson and Hilary Knight. The museum pass not only covered this visit but also a 10-minute stop to admire the stained glass windows at the Sainte-Chapelle and a climb to the top of Notre Dame Cathedral to snarl at the gargoyles.

The pass not only paid for itself but we realised that we should have bought a longer version.

Even though there was no Babar connection, the children wanted to visit the Lady and the Unicorn tapestries at the Musée de Cluny (officially known as the Musée National du Moyen Age) on Sunday before taking the Eurostar home.

Their passion for art museums remains unquenched. Right now, in fact, they’re lobbying for Rome.

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008

FT: Air care for frequent fliers

Air care for frequent fliers

By Emma Jacobs

Published: February 2 2008 02:00 | Last updated: February 2 2008 02:00

Apetite woman with an elfin haircut, in a black waisted tunic and 4in heels, stands before a group of immaculately tidy men and women. She is delivering a lesson but she has one instruction just for the men - they must never wear Lancôme juicy tubes at work. Mim Allgood will, however, permit tinted moisturiser, clear mascara and lip balm.

That's because Allgood is teaching grooming to a group of wannabe air stewards and stewardesses in an unprepossessing metallic grey building near Gatwick airport. Inside, the Virgin Airlines campus is like being in Britney Spears's Toxic video - everyone wears their compulsory post-box red uniforms and the women's hair is swept up in French pleats and rolled ponytails.

It's a relatively easy look to maintain on the ground but how do flight attendants manage to look so groomed and fresh at the end of a long flight while passengers' skin is blotchy and their hair frazzled? Even in the relative luxury of business class, the pallid zombie look, a by-product of the aircraft's recycled air, is hard to avoid. So perhaps a few tips from the airline grooming classes at Virgin and Silverjet will help to even the score.

Allgood's class is peppered with women who look like they're in the qualifying heat for a Miss UK competition. Everyone is impossibly glossy and neat. But the overall message from this seminar is that frequent flying is bad for your skin. The air in the cabin is dehydrating, and moving between climates and time zones will increase your skin's sensitivity. More worryingly, frequent flying can be ageing. Remedial and preventative action must be taken.

"When you start flying, your skin will become very dehydrated. Look at a bowl of fruit in first class. At the start of the flight, it's really juicy. At the end, it's wrinkly and shrivelled. Same for your skin. Even oily skin," Allgood warns. "People with oily skin often think they escape dehydration because they look shinier at touchdown. But it's not true."

The mantra is: drink lots of water, limit tea and coffee, and avoid alcohol. It's not just imbibing water but also spritzing it on your face and hair, if it's prone to frizz. However, steer clear of sprays that are pure water. Marcella Knibb, the Silverjet instructor, puckers her face in disgust at the very thought of them. Water sprays dehydrate your skin by sapping it of any existing moisture so she advises using one with refreshing, hydrating additives such as aloe vera, mint or lavender. If you don't like spraying liquid on your eyes, then squirt it on cotton pads first. Skin wipes are also a good way to refresh your skin but steer clear of the ones they give away on aircraft - the lanolin in those can be an irritant. Go for ones such as Dermalogica's skin purifying wipes, which have the added benefit of not being included as a liquid for airport security rules.

Ideally, passengers, not cabin crew, should take make-up off at the start of a flight. But if that is unrealistic, then at least some products are no-nos. Red and yellow dyes in make-up, including red lipstick and fake tan, are dehydrating. We are all fiercely warned away from YSL's Touche Eclat, which is too drying to wear on a flight. In fact, we should restrict our use of the magic wand for special occasions and never wear it as a concealer - it reflects light so highlights rather than hides spots.

The best make-up for flights is mineral-based such as the ranges produced by ID Bare Minerals or Jane Iredale, which use 100 per cent minerals and no preservatives or oils. Unlike a powder, the crushed minerals won't be absorbed into pores and nurture spots. "It's so pure, you can sleep in it," laughs Allgood. She catches herself: "Although don't. Always take your make-up off." Also beware of make-up exploding because of cabin pressure. If you reapply mid-flight, always put a napkin on your lap in case of leaks.

We are advised that, whenever possible, we should use flights for a bit of pampering. Knibb takes us through a flight's pampering routine and instructs us to scrape our hair back, cleanse and tone. If you're prone to spots, try pinning your hair back on a flight as flopping fringes will only exacerbate the problem. Then, she suggests using a multivitamin concentrate or Dermalogica's skin hydrating booster and then moisturiser such as Dermalogica's anhydrous barrier repair. "Don't worry about nipping to the toilet to rub in body lotion. It's only the exposed areas - face, hands and neck - that dry out on flights," she points out. "If you have the guts, put a face mask on, though not a clay-based one to save embarrassment. [Try] a clear one, perhaps a rose hydrating mask by Aromatherapy Associates." Allgood would go one step further and put an eye mask on, such as one by Guinot. She recommends dunking the tube in some iced water to make it extra soothing. Steer clear of eye drops as they're drying.

If all these potions look like they're going to breach security rules, you should pick up samples from beauty department stores. They'll fit into the airport's clear plastic bags.

For those who haven't the time or inclination to pack a range of products or go through a mile-high beauty routine, Elizabeth Arden's eight-hour cream is "an essential", says Allgood. According to Rebecca Wadsworth, a member of British Airways' crew, her colleagues swear by it as the ultimate multitasking cream. It can be rubbed into cuticles, heels, on your face, on your lips before applying lipstick, on your hands and to calm any rashes.

But the ultimate beauty no-no on a flight is alcohol. On this topic, everyone agrees that water or maybe a drink with Vitamin C is best - and if you're in the mood for a cocktail, try a tomato juice or water with fizzy Vitamin C as an alternative.

Er, what about something stiffer? "If you need to calm your pre-flight nerves, substitute alcohol with cotton wool dipped in lavender and put it in a sealed plastic bag - open it up and smell it when you need a boost," suggested one flight attendant. Not quite the substitute you were hoping for? Herbal tea was the other accepted alternative.

But if you just have to have a drink, then be sure to have two glasses of water for every alcoholic beverage. That way, your repeated trips to the loo will give you a bit of exercise and prevent swollen ankles.

'Make yourself feel better with a pampering session'

Elle Macpherson, model and businesswoman: "After long-haul flights, I go to the Luzmon Clinic in Kensington, London, to relieve jet lag and for rebalancing. Luzmon technology is thermostimulation, a combination of electrostimulation and infra-red heat and works wonders for detoxification."

Sean Harrington, managing director of Elemis: "There's a lot of dead time when you travel, so if you can make yourself feel better in the sky with a good pampering session, then why not? I think a scrub is always good to do or even a face mask that you can leave on, so that when you get off the plane, you don't look exhausted, especially if you have a business meeting straight away."

Amanda Wakeley, fashion designer: "I always get cold on flights, so I wear different layers of my ultra-fine cashmere that I can peel off as I warm up. I find that Australian Bush Flowers travel essence is unbeatable in countering jet lag. I also advocate going straight to the gym post a long-haul flight - it gets your circulation flowing properly and again counters jet lag. I am also a great believer in mind over matter: set your watch to your destination's time as soon as you board and begin to imagine you are already there."

Susan Harmsworth, chief executive of ESPA International, a spa and beauty company: "I swear by the Bose noise eliminators that reduce jet lag by cutting out the sound of the engines during flight."

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2008

FT: Worth the Detour

Parsons examines the problem of authenticity, arising from the reader’s conceit that he is never a tourist, always a traveller in search of the “real”. This snobbery (which the Lonely Planet series exploits) explains, “the obsession of guidebook designers with photographs of grizzled old men at cafe tables, or peasants riding donkeys”. “Fakelore” – people dressing in costume, or knocking out ethnic souvenirs just for the tourists – has become unavoidable.

Another problem is political candour. Should a guidebook mention police torture chambers in the same breath as palace bedchambers? Are there countries (such as Myanmar) which publishers should refuse to cover? The answer depends on whether you believe tourism bolsters a repressive regime or helps those who oppose it.

==

Worth the Detour

Review by Christian Tyler

Published: September 29 2007 00:50 | Last updated: September 29 2007 00:50

Worth the Detour: A History of the Guidebook
By Nicholas T. Parsons
Sutton £20, 378 pages
FT bookshop price: £16

It was a witty idea to write a guide to guidebooks. After all, how we look at foreign countries and people tells us a lot about ourselves. The blandest handbook becomes, for an astute literary truffle-hound like the author of Worth the Detour, a fruity deposit of fashions, prejudices and neuroses.

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Nicholas Parsons (not to be confused with the radio quiz host) is himself an author of Blue Guides and other works on Austria and Hungary. He opens with a telling observation by E.M. Forster who declared himself so delighted by Baedeker’s Italy that he could “leave the Italian Italy for another time”.

What is a guidebook for?

Tutor, art critic, counsellor, companion – Parsons traces in scholarly detail the mutation of the genre over time. Pausanias, the 2nd-century Lydian Greek, was the real inventor. His successors, now forgotten, wrote for medieval Christian pilgrims to Rome and the Holy Land, and for commercial travellers like the Polo family. (The author does not explore the intriguing question of whether Marco Polo ever got to China, or whether he plagiarised a guidebook.)

For the Victorian bourgeoisie there were the John Murray Handbooks, Thomas Cook’s brochures, and, of course, Karl Baedeker, who turned guidebooks into a brand. By the late 19th century, the guide had become dictator of good taste in art, and judge of the unreliable character of the foreigner. Its tyrannical star system determined the itinerary of a thousand coach parties.

Parsons examines the problem of authenticity, arising from the reader’s conceit that he is never a tourist, always a traveller in search of the “real”. This snobbery (which the Lonely Planet series exploits) explains, “the obsession of guidebook designers with photographs of grizzled old men at cafe tables, or peasants riding donkeys”. “Fakelore” – people dressing in costume, or knocking out ethnic souvenirs just for the tourists – has become unavoidable.

Another problem is political candour. Should a guidebook mention police torture chambers in the same breath as palace bedchambers? Are there countries (such as Myanmar) which publishers should refuse to cover? The answer depends on whether you believe tourism bolsters a repressive regime or helps those who oppose it.

In recent years the genre has fragmented and specialised, like tourism itself. Hygiene freaks look at Shitting Pretty, written by a doctor of tropical medicine. Backpackers hunt for The Book, which appears in no bookshop but is a collection of notes first scribbled in a restaurant in La Paz. The bestselling Rough Guide to the Internet is for people who never leave home at all.

Parsons realises that the days of the egghead guidebook are numbered. In a world of shrinking attention spans, the ultimate travelling companion is an expensive handbook which shows you beautiful pictures of things you will see yourself.

Like Michelin, from whose catchphrase it takes its title, this book makes delightful detours into areas such as Ptolemaic geography, and the techniques of triangulation. Parsons is rigorous (he has proper endnotes and indexing), sophisticated, sharp, and humorous. And he writes very well.

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2007