From Morocco to Myanmar: My travel top 12 (so far)

A question I get asked a lot is, 'where is your favorite place you've ever been?' Choosing just one is literally impossible, but I've managed to get it down to a dozen. This list is short on major sites and singular monuments and big on places and experiences. Sometimes it's the journey and not the destination that makes a trip.

This is a list that will almost certainly change over time, we have a lot of work to do in South America, Africa and right here in Australia. But at this moment in time, here are my top 12 (in no particular order):

1. Getting lost in Essaouira, Morocco

Essaouira was our penultimate stop on a long, hard journey through Morocco; a dot on the map that broke up a long bus ride between Agadir and Casablanca. I was 23 and this was my first encounter with the third world and the Islamic world (these were the days before Easy Jet was depositing 'stag do's' by the planeload in Marrakech).

With no male travel companion, we spent a lot of the trip seeking solace on the rooftop terraces of our riads to escape the steady stream of sexual slurs and general harassment that had trailed us through Fez and Marrakech. We dressed conservatively and it was the driest college 'spring break' trip this side of Cancun.

By the end of our journey we were feeling fairly defeated and then we alighted in Essaouria. We were among just a sprinkling of other tourists and for the first time in two weeks, left largely to our own devices. Free to stroll on the beach, wander the souk and browse without interference or a relentless sales pitch, it was the Morocco I had envisioned - beautiful, exotic, and hospitable.

2. Swan Lake at the Bolshoi, Moscow, Russia

When I was in kindergarten, each week a different student got to fill in a poster about themselves. You got to fill in things like your favorite food (spaghetti), favorite colour (blue) etc. One of the categories was 'three wishes' and I wrote that, 'I wish I lived in Russia.' It was 1988. I'm pretty sure my reasoning had more to do with ballerinas than Cold War politics, but I was positively smitten by Russia, even as a child.

Fast-forward to 2004 when I was on a college trip to Moscow and St Petersburg. One evening in Moscow, my professor knocked on my hotel room door and asked my roommate and I if we liked the ballet, I replied, 'we love the ballet'. Through some booking quirk our group had been split up and there were two premium, front row, box seats available and we were the chosen ones. Sipping champagne we watched the most famous ballet company in the world perform the most famous ballet in the world!

3. The Taj Mahal, Agra, India

India may have a bit of trouble taking care of its nice things, but this is not one of them. The Taj positively sparkles and it's hard to believe that it is pushing 400 years old; it looks like it was completed yesterday. I can't quite put my finger on why I'm so much more impressed by the Taj than the Eiffel Tower, Sydney Opera House or even Angkor Wat, but I think it has something to do with the size, the symmetry and scale. The Taj is one that you really need to see for yourself, photos just don't capture it.

4. London like a local

I was lucky enough to 'live' in London as a study abroad student and have been back many times since. Sure, it's crowded, expensive, a bit dowdy and the weather is terrible, but who cares. Londoners are terribly smug about being Londoners, but I probably would be too if I lived there. It is a city positively groaning under the weight of history. It has some of the best museums in the world (most of which are free), the food is far better than you think, and there is no shortage of excellent watering holes.

5. Inveraray, Scotland

In Scotland, if you tell a local that you are going to Inveraray at the weekend, their immediate reply will be, 'Oh, are you going to The George?' Aside from a stunning position on Loch Fyne (which in my humble opinion produces the world's best oysters) Inveraray boasts what must be one of the finest gastropubs in all of Scotland (it's a good thing too, because it's practically the only place in town.)

The George (which is also a hotel) shatters my rule about hotel restaurants generally being paragons of mediocrity. (Outside of Edinburgh) Scottish pubs frequently lack the charm of their English counterparts, but not the George. The building dates from 1770 and has been lovingly cared for and restored. There are over 100 malt whiskies to choose from (believe me, when Uncle Matt came to town we got through an impressive selection of them). There are cozy nooks, open fireplaces and a gorgeous conservatory. Sadly, it's been a few years since we were last there, but I still salivate at the thought of their local scallops with brown butter and roasted hazelnuts or their to-die-for sticky toffee pudding.

The flagship Loch Fyne restaurant is also just down the road, and they hold a fabulous little seafood festival every 'summer'. If I was made of time and money, I'd go every year.

6. The Grand Canyon, Arizona, USA

Anyone who has been will probably agree. Our first glimpse was the day after our emergency wedding in Vegas (short version, we needed to get married so I could get a residency visa in Malaysia). We approached from the North Rim, it was early autumn; cool, clear and the summertime crowds had largely dispersed. We spent two spellbound days photographing it from every vantage point we could find. Unfortunately, Ian had a broken foot, so we didn't get to do any serious hiking. I guess it means we'll have to go back.

7. Margaret River to Monkey Mia, Western Australia's Indian Ocean Coast

I have no doubt that this is a permanent fixture on the list. This stretch of coast is without question one of my favorite places on the planet. There's almost nothing (and no one) here and that is a huge part of its charm. The best part is, we haven't even covered half of it. Margaret River to Monkey Mia is only 1,125km (700 miles) of this magnificent stretch. From Monkey Mia, it's another 1,800km (1,120 miles) up to Broome and we can't wait to pick up where we left off.

8. Into the Heart of Borneo: Kuching, Malaysia

 

I'll be honest, when we arrived at Kuching's shiny new airport for the first time in 2011 and found ourselves in a tidy, orderly, little city and not some jungle-backwater (I'd been reading too much Conrad), I was a tiny bit put out. It certainly wasn't the image of Borneo that I had in my head, but I rallied and graciously accepted my unanticipated creature comforts. We dined at atmospheric little restaurants serving up local specialities like midin (an edible jungle fern) and drank ritzy cocktails made from local arak. There is a pleasant promenade along the riverfront, a quaint and crusty Victorian natural history museum and plenty of shops selling (not made in China) Dyak and Iban arts and crafts.

But in Kuching you can have your cake and eat it too. While the city is pleasantly civilised, the surrounding area allows you to sample Borneo's wild side. The orang-utans at Semmengoh Nature Reserve are real show-stoppers, but so too is Bako National Park. Bako is accessible only by boat (through crocodile-infested waters) and is home to rare proboscis monkeys and far, far too many kinds of snakes. There are extensive hikes to remote beaches and waterfalls and it is truly hotter than hell. There's also Kubah National Park, the Fairy Caves, Damai Beach and Mount Santubong. You can get all the jungle you require and then some.

9. Monet's Garden, Giverny, France

When I was a kid, my sister and I had a book called Linnea in Monet's Garden, if I think hard enough I can still recall specific passages and illustrations from the book. I loved it that much. So standing on the Japanese Bridge in Monet's Garden was kind of a big deal. The garden isn't overly landscaped; it's dense, almost shabby-chic and just as pretty as in the paintings.

10. The slow train: Yangon to Bagan, Myanmar

It was long, it was uncomfortable, and it was exactly as it was supposed to be. We trundled (and occasionally alarmingly rocked) along at an inconceivably slow pace, watching life in one of the world's least developed and most disconnected countries slide by. When things go according to plan, the journey takes about 17 hours to cover just under 400 miles. There's cold beer, no wifi, probably some of the safest food you'll eat, and definitely not the worst toilet you'll encounter (that's back at the station), so open the window wide, sit back and enjoy.

11. Sailing and snorkeling Komodo National Park, Indonesia

 

36 hours of sailing the Flores sea, snorkeling in pristine tropical waters, and spotting Komodo dragons (which are the closest thing you are ever going to see to a real life dinosaur). This is the only place on the planet you can spot these beasts and the scenery isn't bad either. Just make sure you have a good travel insurance policy and bring your own beer for the boat ride.

12. My (kind of) town, Chicago, USA

Despite a long tradition of megalomaniac mayors, Chicago is remarkably and refreshingly unpretentious. Chicago is one of the best looking cities in the world, but I think it looks particularly good in snow. A boozy brunch and a matinee at Second City is pretty much the perfect day out. Or maybe a leisurely stroll around the Art Institute and a ribeye the size of your face for dinner. Between London and Chicago, who needs New York?

Six month check-up

It's been almost six months exactly since we left Malaysia and moved to Australia. Before we left I did a blog post on the things that I would miss and the things that I would not. Turns out, that list was pretty much spot on. But here are a few things I overlooked:

Winter isn't so bad 

 

So I've done (more than) my fair share of complaining about the mild Australian winter, but I did overlook an upside. Winter cooking. A nice steak and ale pie just doesn't taste as good when it is hot outside. Fact.

I can haz warms 

 

On another wintry note, the cat loves us so much more when it's cold outside. Yes, we know she is just using us for our warms, we don't care. Back in the tropics, she her meows could roughly be translated as 'oi, geroff me.'

Clean and cold tap water is a real luxury. 

Just because the tap water in Kuala Lumpur won't kill you, that doesn't mean you want to drink it. After a big storm our taps would often run brown sludge. We even had to put a filter on our washing machine so our clothes didn't come out dirtier than they went in. Sydney water is awesome.

These boots were made for walkin'

 

Walking places. In KL to walk anywhere was to take your life into your hands, whether it was the open six-foot deep storm drains, broken and dilapidated sidewalks, piles of mystery rubble and garbage, drivers using pedestrians for target practice or all of the above. Sydney is a pedestrian dream. Well maintained bike and walking paths, functioning intersections, and drivers that give pedestrians the right-of-way. In Sydney, the biggest hazard is show-off fitness-buffs mowing down packs of tourists and small children jogging in Circular Quay.

Learning the lingo

Just because they officially speak English in Australia does not mean I understand everything that is said. Some Aussie accents are more impenetrable than a soused Scotsman at Hogmanay.  Throw in some of their bonkers slang to boot and I am at a complete, utter loss.  In Malaysia, as long as you understood 'can' and 'cannot' you could go far.

 Parking

We went to IKEA last weekend. IKEA is exactly the same every where in the world, a full-fledged, bonafide, three-ring circus. As we circled the parking garage like vultures I did fleetingly think, 'if we were in Malaysia, we could just abandon the car anywhere and get away with it.' Then I came to my senses.

Getting the same answer every time. 

 

When I was working through the final details of getting the cat admitted into Australia, I had to ring up the Department of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries as well as the Quarantine Centre a few times. When I did, something magical happened: if I asked both departments the same question, I received the same answer. Every. Single. Time. The answer didn't change depending upon who picked up the phone, or what day of the week it was or if there was a full moon. There was a single, correct answer - not four conflicting ones, each with kernel of truth.

Why studying abroad made me a better traveller

If you are anything like me, your formative independent travel expeditions were in college - an epic study abroad experience (probably in Europe) where you ticked off countries like vodka shots at a frat party. We all have to start somewhere and Europe is soft, safe (and spectacular) landing. You 'do' Paris in a weekend. Hell, you 'do' Western Europe in a week and return home an insufferable Europhile, 'I actually prefer my water without ice' and 'siestas are a basic human right').

Athens, 2003

Let me be clear, I don't think there is anything wrong with this. Every twenty-year-old is an idiot, and a few Old World ass-kickings make most of us better people. Study abroad (or a gap year) is like an accelerated maturation processor; go if you can. And if you've already been, you probably look back on it as fondly as I do. I've never met anyone who said, 'I really wish I didn't study abroad.'

Needless to say, I saw and did a lot; ticking off museums, churches and castles mostly out of genuine interest but a few out of obligation too. Mark Twain famously said, 'a classic is something everyone wants to have read but nobody wants to read' - the same could be said for a lot of big ticket tourist attractions (insert Stonehenge here).

In retrospect, I realised that the highlights of my European Odyssey were rarely the big ticket sites themselves, but the offbeat moments like convincing your travel companion to perform Janis Joplin covers at a crowded bar in Kinsale or late night absinthe shots with the captain and crew (from an airline that shall remain anonymous) in Prague. This is not a ground-breaking statement, (experienced travellers reading this are probably rolling their eyes).  But my point is that, while most travellers eventually work this out, it's usually a lesson we need to learn on our own. I'm just glad that I was able to learn it early on.

Venice, 2003

So after studying abroad (despite having no money or plans to go anywhere) I revised my travel strategy - I was no longer going to rush or box-tick. The world isn't a checklist and I decided immediately to do away with the 'been there done that' approach to travel.

Instead, I was going to be open to returning to places. Saying you've 'seen' France by spending a weekend in Paris is like saying you 'know' Jamaica by spending a week at Sandals. I've been to France at least five times and have barely scratched the surface. I've never even been south of Paris; I still have a lot of work to do.

I learned lots of other practical stuff too, like:

• less really is more when packing
• you don't save money staying at a cheap hotel in suburbia if you end up in a late night taxi 
• international flights before 8am are a terrible idea
• grid systems are a navigational blessing
• shared bathrooms are for chumps
• Scandinavians speak better English than you do

There is also a lot of stuff about fulfilment, personal growth and fostering independence, but that stuff has been covered ad nauseam. Studying abroad is like an intensive training course, where years' worth of experience and learning is crammed into a single semester. You learn how to be a smarter, safer, savvier traveller and have the time of your life doing it.

Travel Rewind: Glamping in North Thailand

Our last six months in Malaysia were pretty frenzied, so I didn't have the chance to blog about a few of our final adventures. Now settled (and unemployed) I've got ample time to retrace our steps. So, in January we squeezed in our fourth and final farewell journey to our northern neighbor, Thailand.

View down to one of the family cabins, from the tallest tree house, Tamarind

As you head north from Chiang Mai towards the Burmese border, you quickly leave behind the dusty plains and climb steadily into lush, green, hilly forests. I've blogged about Chiang Mai previously, and as a major tourist destination (and Thailand's second city) it's no surprise that surrounding hills are increasingly populated with small resorts, home-stays and elephant camps. I like Thailand's beaches and islands (almost) as much as the next guy, but it does make a nice change of scenery from Germans in speedos, if you know what  I mean.

Tamarind House

There's a lot of good stuff in the area, especially if you fancy a few days of peace and quiet. I stumbled upon a place called Rabeang Pasak Tree House Resort. Naturally it was the 'Tree House' part that caught my attention and a bit of research revealed, much to my delight, exactly what I had envisioned in my head - a small, picturesque spot in the hills with Swiss Family Robinson style tree houses.

At the time of our visit the resort was less than three years old, with just six cottage-style tree houses that sleep two (about $60 a night) and two larger family-size units (4+ people $100 a night) - all built by the owner 'Lee' a local and former architect.

Let me say here and now, that this place probably isn't for everyone. Think 'glamping' rather than five star resort territory. The cabins are basic, piled with old blankets and bargain basement mattresses, but cozy and complete with indoor plumbing and hot water (most of the time). Each tree house has unique features, such as outdoor showers or private balconies, some are ground level, others are in the treetops.

Bamboo House

The treetop houses are the most popular, but I can't recommend Bamboo House enough, it's ground level but has a private patio that backs onto a small stream and is very cozy - especially if you are visiting in the cooler winter months.

There is also a farm-like quality to the place and there are lots of animals about - dogs, chickens, piglets and cats. The owners do a terrific job of keeping the animals out of the eating areas and none of the animals are aggressive. A few of the more solicitous cats might try and find a warm spot with you at night but they quickly work out where they are welcome and where they are not.

Meals are simple but hearty Thai fare and there is a fridge full of cold Chang beer (the nearest market is 40km away, so if you're fussy or suffer allergies you need to let them know in advance).

The owners are helpful and friendly far beyond the call of duty and work really hard to get everyone in the tree house they've requested - we stayed three nights and ended up moving each night to try out new houses and accommodate others.  If you are going to be put over this, I'd recommend that you get over it ahead of time or find somewhere else to stay. The staff are helpful in moving your stuff and if you're dragging around massive suitcase full of high heels and handbags for every occasion- you've packed for the wrong vacation.

Once the sun goes down things wind down pretty quick. The area is replete with hiking trails and there are even a few bicycles free to use. Pack your hiking boots, load your Kindle up with reading material, kick back and enjoy. This is special spot.

Or how I learned to stop complaining and love the airline industry

I'm just going to say it: I've had it with the constant beating up on the airline industry. I'm a (very) frequent flyer and I'll be the first to admit, I don't enjoy the experience - not one bit of it from start to finish. It's time consuming, stressful, boring and inconvenient.  But frankly, I think that's a small price to pay for the overall convenience of being able to cross the planet in a single bound. And if that is something you are privileged enough to do, quit whining, I bet there are plenty of people who'd like to take your place. And believe me, I can recommend some less convenient and less comfortable alternatives for you

I know most air travel isn't people going on their dream vacation, it's often for mundane purposes such as work or business. But still, there's no reason to degenerate into a complete jackass just because you have to switch off your phone and sit still for a few hours. People exhibit a level of hatred for the airline industry that should be reserved for the likes of BP, Monsanto and Halliburton.

I think the most obnoxious thing about chronic 'complaners' (get it?) is the complete, utter, self-importance of it all. I've been drawn into more conversations than I'd care to admit, swapping notes and horror stories about how miserable flight X was. You know what I'm talking about, the 'conversation' where everyone is talking over each other, inserting more horrific indignities with each telling and no one hears a word of it. Something like the House of Commons at midday on a Wednesday.

Let's start with short-haul flights. 

Anything under three hours, I don't want to hear a single complaint. I don't care if they stuff you into an old cargo plane with chickens and goats. You can put up with almost anything for three hours. You certainly can survive in an upright seat without a bad meal and free booze. Shut up.

Onto long-haul flights

Face it, long-haul flights are as comfortable as they have ever been. If you haven't been on an Airbus A380 yet, you've got something to look forward to. Those bad-boys positively float and the toilets are roomier than your average hotel room in Singapore. Seriously. Pack your toys, sit down and behave yourself.

Why is it still seemingly acceptable to treat airline and airport staff so badly?

I was going through Heathrow a couple years ago and forgot about a water bottle in my camera bag. Rookie mistake, it just slipped my mind. I was held up for about 20 minutes while they carefully went through my bag, I was mildly irritated (with myself) but it's not like I had anywhere else to be.

The guy in front of me also got stopped. Caucasian, middle-aged, arrogant, American. He went nuclear. He was pulling out frequent flyer cards like they were meant to be some sort of special security pass and raging about the lost time and inconvenience (he was on my flight, there was ample time). I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this man probably wouldn't have acted like this in the security line at an embassy or consulate. Maybe he was just an asshole. But I've seen variations on this scenario play out repeatedly on the ground and in the air. Maybe they should start handing out Xanax and Adavan at the check-in counter.

Budget airlines

Budget airlines are called budget for a reason. It's not a conspiracy or a mean trick. If a 'complimentary' can of Coke and a pack of peanuts means that much to you, take your business elsewhere. I've flown with Virgin Australia, JetStar, Tiger, AirAsia, EasyJet, Frontier, BMIbaby, FlyBe, SpiceJet and (god forbid) Lion Air - they all do exactly what they say they will, get you from A to B with no frills whilst (fingers crossed) adhering to international safety standards. So sit back, enjoy the extra bulge in your wallet and forget about your 2 less inches of leg space.

Except RyanAir, it's always okay to complain about RyanAir.

All airlines are not created equal

All airlines are not created equal, just like restaurants and hotels. Most of us fly with whoever is cheapest or has the most convenient flight going to the right place at the right time. It's unfortunate that the service and amenities you get on a flight with United pale in comparison to Etihad or Cathay Pacific; but if you ended up on the United flight, please just accept this and move on. I can't think of another industry where the constant comparisons are so tiresome.  When was the last time someone talked your ear off about the relative merits of Hilton over Marriott?

Flying is public transportation

The days of flight being perceived as a 'luxurious' mode of travel are well and truly over. You aren't special or exclusive because you fly. The romance is dead. Flight has been thoroughly democratised. Think of it as riding the subway in the sky.

It's not you TripAdvisor, it's us

This rant has been a long time coming, but recently came to head as I've been planning a major family trip to Indonesia that needs to make six people happy. I reluctantly turned to TripAdvisor for inspiration; not because I inherently dislike TripAdvisor - it's a useful platform and it helps to keep the travel industry honest; the problem is the reviewers.

I've personally contributed several reviews to TripAdvisor and there are a lot of high quality reviews out there - but you need to settle down with glass of wine and prepare to do some work to find them. I long ago accepted that a brief glance at the overall rating is virtually useless. The frustrations listed here primarily relate to reviews I've encountered within Asia. I have no idea if TripAdvisor is more reliable if you're planning a trip to NYC.

Expectation management

 

Just because something is called 'Coconut Grove Holiday Beach Resort' does not necessarily mean that there are coconuts, a beach or it is even a resort. Far too often I stumble upon a review that says something like, 'we booked this resort because it was $10 a night, when we arrived it there was no AC and it was on a busy main road 10 minutes walk from the beach.'

Not $10 a night, but for a very reasonable $70 you can get a deluxe suite.

While I kind of sympathise, did you really think that $10 was going to get you the full resort experience including a swim-up bar and a spa? Nice things still cost more, even in Asia.

So the lesson here is, don't write a review focused entirely on your disappointment, tell me if it was any good relative to the kind of property it was realistically aspiring to be. For $10 a night, I want to know about the bed bug situation not the lack of concierge.

The inverse is true too, don't tell me you had a superb three course meal in an excellent restaurant owned by a celebrity chef but then you were put out when the bill topped $40.00 and give it a stingy 2 star review. I've never known a restaurant (or hotel) to refuse to let you view prices before agreeing to eat or stay in a place. If you ended up spending more than you wanted, that's on you. If the food or service was disappointing, then please tell me all about it.

Southeast Asia is still exceptionally good value, but it's not free and you shouldn't expect it to be.

The weather 

 

I am well aware of how truly devastating bad weather can be on vacation. On our first trip to Borneo, we planned to wrap up the trip with a few days at the beach. As we were driving to our resort, it was so dark, rainy and miserable at mid-day that the automatic streetlights switched on. This really took the shine off things.

But (and repeat this with me) the weather is not the fault of the hotel, resort etc. I've read far too many reviews about a hotel where the reviewer has given a place a really low score, only to then read something like, 'the hotel was really lovely and the staff friendly and helpful, but it rained the whole time.'

Odds are you took a gamble and came in the rainy season, didn't do your homework or just had bad luck. It's the tropics, it rains. Either way, it's both unhelpful and unfair to write a review like this. Stick to the (relevant) facts.

Beating up on local staff

 

This is the most cringe-worthy sin. PJ O'Rourke tells a story of being in South Africa in the late-80s, begging and pleading with the Afrikaans speaking waiter to please bring him a fork. He instead slowly amasses a large collection of drinking vessels and spoons. On the verge of losing his temper, O'Rourke finally has the good grace to eat his chicken with a spoon and leaves a massive tip for the beleaguered waiter.

(In full context this story is a more complex parable of South Africa at the end of Apartheid.) But there is another, less complex lesson to be taken here: if you are unable to communicate with the staff in a foreign country, that is your problem, not theirs. There's a big difference between a waiter mixing up your order because he/she can't understand you and actual bad service. Sometimes the two overlap to be sure. But, unless you're paying an extortionate sum of money to shield yourself from suffering any local inconvenience or  hassle by staying at the Ritz or Four Seasons, then cut your local staff some slack. You're on their turf and miscommunication is all part of the experience.

Expecting everything to be the same as at home

 

Americans are particularly guilty of this one. Again, it's all about the context. Being wildly disappointed by something because it is different to what you are used to might suggest you're better suited to armchair travel. A review that starts something like, 'X is like this at my favorite restaurant at home, but it's completely different here!' Look around Dorothy, you're not in Kansas anymore. Comparisons can be helpful, but what's that old saying about 'apples and oranges'?

Foreign food

 

I know everybody wants to be a 'foodie' and instagraming your every meal (I'm guilty) has become an international pastime, but if you are a fussy eater, please just confess. If you hate spicy food, just say so. Can't get into Asian cuisine? Fine. Terrified of spending your whole trip on the toilet and therefore feeling unadventurous? Just let us know a few things about you before you set yourself up as the next Anthony Bourdain.

A friend and I were in Hanoi last year and we wanted to find something special for our last night in Vietnam. For a little context - we were both adventurous eaters with guts of steel and had been blown away by the food in Vietnam thus far. We weren't hunting for a decent pizza to pull us through a final meal.

We skimmed TripAdvisor and found that the highest ranked restaurant in Hanoi was nearby and we went to check it out. For both of us the first red flag was that it was a hotel restaurant. A universal truth of international travel is that hotel restaurants are generally disappointing. It was tidy and soulless; the menu a nod to the white-people favorites of Vietnamese cuisine - spring rolls and pho - the rest was the usual generic Chinese food (think of it as going to Germany and ordering spaghetti bolognese or Ceasar salad.) It was inconceivable to us that this was the best Hanoi had to offer.

We bailed and had a few beers and settled into toddler-size plastic chairs in a gutter somewhere (much to the amusement of the locals) and gorged on whatever the locals were eating. Maybe the hotel restaurant really was great, we'll never know, but I've learned to trust my instincts and despite the glowing reviews it screamed mediocrity.

Read between the lines

 

This is one for those looking for helpful reviews. Newsflash: Everything you read on the internet isn't true. And most things you read on the internet should be taken with a pinch of salt. Before putting blind faith in the opinion of a complete stranger do a little detective work.

For instance, where are they from? When we lived in Malaysia, I was fully aware that the qualities I might look for in a hotel or resort might be completely different from a Malaysian. For example, one of the first things we tend to confirm is the availability of alcohol. I would view a tropical vacation without a few cold beers as genuinely devastating. A Malaysian might not even notice this.

Also, how old are they? Did they have children with them? What kind of budget are they on? Is this reviewer a notorious grump - is everything they've ever reviewed just a string of complaints? And most importantly, have they committed any of  the above sins?

Take those things into consideration and you'll have a lot more success in finding reviews that are helpful to your situation. (Trip Advisor does have reviewers create personal profiles, check people out, see if they are similar to you).

 Trust the pros (within reason)

 

I'm aware that people reviewing on TripAdvisor aren't professionals, but neither am I, I'm just asking for a little common sense and thoughtfulness. That's also why TripAdvisor is never going to put the likes of Lonely Planet and Rough Guides out of business. The big boys don't get it right every time - far from it (I distinctly remember binning a copy of Lonely Planet's Southwest England guide). But they usually do two very important things: they manage your expectations and keep things in context; that way when they do misfire, it's pretty easy to read between the lines.

(Attempting to) Make that which is uninteresting, interesting

Sydney residents are genuinely spoiled. There is an almost an overwhelming amount of things to see and do locally - stunning national parks, world class beaches, art, festivals, great food, coffee and wine. All against the backdrop of a beautiful, cosmopolitan, laid-back city. With such a streak of good stuff, we were bound to strike out eventually. And strike out we did.

Cockatoo Island today

Cockatoo Island, isn't exactly the Opera House,  but it is a pretty famous and well-regarded Sydney landmark. The history of the place is interesting enough - it's a tiny island in Sydney Harbour that was used to house convicts starting in the mid-19th century and later served as a reform centre for shall we say, ladies of the night and such. Think of it as a sort of Australian Alcatraz-cum-industrial centre.

Convict labor helped to turn the island into a shipbuilding site that reached its heyday during WWII (long after the convicts were gone). The few photos on the self-guided tour show an impressive operation, the largest ships appear to have dwarfed the island in size. Work on the final ship built at Cockatoo Island commenced in 1979 and by the early 90s the island was relegated to the largely deserted industrial wasteland that it is today.

The problem with Cockatoo Island is not that there isn't an interesting history behind it, but that there is nothing to see. I assure you that by reading the account you will have virtually the same experience as if you went there in person (minus the disappointment). Since Cockatoo Island was operational until relatively recently, that means it was a functioning industrial site long enough for all the interesting stuff of historical note to have been long since replaced, destroyed or removed.

Cockatoo Island is for all intents and purposes a scrap of prime real-estate in Sydney Harbour, covered in locked, empty, mouldering warehouses that are masquerading as a tourist attraction. The only benefit to being on Cockatoo Island, is that since you are standing on it, it is no longer a concrete blot on an otherwise pleasing view.

After our visit, I couldn't resist the urge to look up Cockatoo Island on TripAdvisor, just to see what others thought. (Insert caveat here, that I normally find TripAdvisor quite unreliable, more on that in an upcoming post.)

Anyway, Cockatoo has pretty solid reviews on TripAdvisor.

• 170 Excellent or Very Good 
• 24 Average
• 13 Poor or Terrible

Now my disappointment in Cockatoo Island has nothing to do with a general disinterest in history or unwillingness to read a few plaques etc. I have not one, but two history degrees, and I thought it was boring.

Port Arthur, Tasmania

So we trawled through a lot of the reviews and noticed an interesting pattern. Most of the people who really enjoyed it were actual Australians.

Now for some insight into the Australian psyche. Australians are very self-conscious of their relative 'newness' as a nation. They crave to have a kind of European History; this is why you'll meet the odd Australian who still talks about the UK as 'home' even though they've never been there. And let's face it, Australia is so young in 'Western' historical terms that it makes the United States look old.

 I don't say this to be critical, I think it's nice that Australia wants to carve out it's own modern historical narrative (and it's kind of quaint). And, Australian convict history is and can be visually and physically interesting and very moving. Cockatoo Island forms part of a 10-location World Heritage Site of convict locales throughout the country. Make the trip to Tasmania (an actual underrated destination) and go to Port Arthur (another site on the World Heritage listing) instead - now that really is a fascinating place (and Tassie has really good wine too).

But, this perceived lack of history is also rather problematic. The modern Australian narrative (although it is has improved significantly over the last 20 years or so) is still very much a santized, white-washed (no pun intended!) version of history. (*Before you shout 'hypocrite', yes, I am very aware you could say the same about much of American history!)

Red Hands painting at Ku Ring Gai

Anyway, take this for example; on Saturday we headed out to Ku Ring Gai National Park which aside from wildlife (we saw a wallaby) and amazing hiking trails, has numerous underrated and largely unvisited Aboriginal cave paintings and carvings that have - get this, an upper age limit of 2000 years!

Two. Thousand. Years. There is your history, Australia. Cave paintings, still in existence after all those years of exposure and made of nothing more than pigments from local plants. How about a little more historical pride there?