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British Mensa Travel Special Interest Group |
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lie, will travel I remember committing bigamy in India... Well, I did lots of other things, too, but bigamy isn't the sort of thing you forget. It makes me think, though, about everything you aren't told before you start travelling. Thousands of travel articles have been written over the years, but how many tell you what you really need to know? Pick anywhere in the world and you can find a feature - if not hundreds - on it. Whether you want to know 'the best places to stay', 'where to eat', or even 'what to do', you can guarantee there will be articles to answer your question. So what? You could find all that out quite easily once there, just ask around. I'm awash with brochures detailing answers to all the above questions and some others I haven't even thought of. What these word mountains don't tell you is how to develop the skills you need so you don't fall off the precipice. Especially when travelling alone and female to boot. Yes, you'll guard tickets and money. You'll put your passport in the safe. You'll copy down traveller's cheque numbers, and keep them separately. People will be told where you are, where you'll be going and when you expect to get back. All this is good common sense. Every one of us could work it out for ourselves. But what about new skills you have to learn? After a number of uncomfortable experiences, I've come to the conclusion that top of the list has to be 'learn how to lie'. Lying isn't an unknown concept to the travel industry, as anyone who has ever read a travel brochure could tell you. How many times have you arrived expecting a luxury apartment to find it's still a building site? That wonderful view of the sea - well it's still there, but three high-rises have been built between you and it. There's a fine line between tour operators' 'patter' and outright lying; the experienced traveller might even be able to tell the difference. Lower down the tourism pecking order are tour guides. They know about lying, too. They may even have training in it, or their expertise could come from the daily experience of lying to their customers. After all, how many beds could Mary Queen of Scots really have slept in? To be fair, some lies aren't premeditated, just a response to a particularly stupid comment by one of their flock, like this one told to me by a tour guide at the Salutation Hotel in Perth. It's Scotland's oldest inn, as the plaque above the door will testify... so we're still in the realms of the relatively truthful. However, she remembers showing some American tourists the room that Bonny Prince Charlie allegedly slept in. "Gee, that's great!" they enthused. "But where is he now?" "Och, well," replied the guide, "He's just nipped out for the paper." Tour guides are very good at telling you what you want to hear. For instance, there I was in India (not a bigamist yet) heading up towards Kashmir. The usual road had been blocked due to a landslide, so we'd to use one of the older roads. 'Older road' meant 'older bridge' when we needed to cross the river. "It's perfectly safe to cross. Don't worry!" Hmm-hmm, so why did everyone need to get out of the bus, so people and vehicle could cross separately? I found the Indians to be extremely friendly. Also, extremely curious. "Who are you? Where are you going? Who are you with? Are you married? Have you got children?" There's a limit to how many of these questions you can answer with a sweet smile and bland comment. If you're like me, you're quite happy to make conversation, but you're very aware that giving too much information away could make you vulnerable. Are you really going to say "Oh yes, I'm here all on my own and no one knows exactly where I am"? I don't think so. So that's when the lies started. Little by little, the embroidery became more detailed. However, in inexperienced hands, threads can get tangled. I hadn't yet realised that it would be safer, and easier, to always tell the same lie. After all, I wasn't an experienced liar; I'd always been proud of my honesty and telling lies, even the smallest white one, was a big departure for me. So perhaps tip two should be 'remember what lies you've told' or possibly 'learn to recycle your lies'. So how did I get to the stage of committing bigamy? Well I'd got myself to Kashmir. Despite the lies of the tour operators and guides I'd come across so far, I was nicely settled on a houseboat on the Dal Lake. I decided that I wanted to see the son et lumière at one of the Moghul Gardens. No problem. I found out which bus would take me there and off I went. See, no need for a travel article, I just asked around. There I was on the bus, pinned between the grubby window and yet another curious conversationalist. My lying skills were becoming quite developed by this point. I might even have convinced him that my husband was, indeed, waiting for me at the Gardens with friends because I took too long in the shower at the hotel and he ended up having to go ahead. I was feeling very proud of myself by now, until my new friend got off the bus at the same time as I did and started looking around for this husband of mine. Oh dear. Maybe I should add 'learn to think on your feet' as the next travel tip on the list. I took a deep breath, glanced round surreptitiously and opened my ears to full stretch. Ah, joy! An English voice. I rushed up to him and said, very politely: "Excuse me, you wouldn't mind being my husband for a few minutes would you, please?" "Certainly," said his wife, "He'll be delighted." First published in VISA 79 (Jun08) |