Taking time off isn't just for adults; it's just as crucial for children, especially in today's tech-heavy world. Here's why you should consider taking your kids on a journey to discover the wonders of our planet:Nature Nurtures the Mind - Engaging with nature has profound effects on mental well-being. Research shows that outdoor activities can calm the mind, elevate moods, improve focus, and stimulate cognitive functions. There's something magical about watching children play outside, trading their screens for the joy of a hike or a beach day.Cultural Connections - Travel introduces children to a variety of cultures and people, fostering gratitude and empathy. Experiencing how children in different parts of the world live, often with fewer material possessions, can teach our youngsters valuable lessons in appreciation and compassion. These encounters can profoundly shape their worldview and understanding.Strengthening Family Bonds - In our busy lives, quality family time often gets sidelined. Travel provides a unique opportunity to eliminate distractions and bring families closer together. Many parents notice how siblings bond better and create lasting memories during holidays, reinforcing family ties.The World as a Classroom - Travel is an exceptional educational tool, offering lessons in geography, languages, history, and more that far surpass what a textbook can provide. It's a learning experience that sparks curiosity, broadens horizons, and enhances understanding.Three Great Places to Travel with KidsAt Travel Focus Group, we have first-hand experience of taking our kids to the following incredible destinations, and we highly recommend them:Morocco - Morocco offers an exciting blend of cultural experiences, vibrant markets, and stunning landscapes. Families can explore the bustling souks of Marrakech, ride camels in the Sahara Desert, and visit the historic city of Fes. The diverse scenery, rich history, and unique cultural experiences make Morocco an unforgettable destination for children.Dubai, UAE - Dubai is a city of contrasts, combining ultramodern architecture with traditional Arabian culture. Kids will be thrilled by the futuristic skyline, enjoy the world's largest indoor theme park, and experience a desert safari. Visiting places like the Global Village, Palm Jumeirah, and the Burj Khalifa offers a mix of fun and educational experiences.Malaysia - Malaysia is a family-friendly destination with diverse attractions. Explore the vibrant city of Kuala Lumpur, visit the iconic Petronas Twin Towers, take a trip to the beautiful islands of Langkawi or even take the kids to Legoland. Malaysia's rich cultural heritage, delicious cuisine, and stunning natural scenery provide a well-rounded travel experience for kids.Travel not only enriches the minds of children but also strengthens family bonds and creates lifelong memories. If any of the reasons or destinations resonate with you, it's time to plan your next family adventure. Contact Travel Focus on 4209 2044 for personalised ideas that will educate, entertain, and connect your family in unforgettable ways.

A popular remark during the 1960s and 70s was, “Apart from that, Mrs Kennedy, how was your trip to Dallas?” – a cruel reference to the assassination of John F Kennedy on 22 November 1963. In 1996, my father and brother joined me on a trip to Scotland to do genealogical research on the Orkneys, the home of our forebears. Because it was Dad’s first and only trip overseas, we allowed him to choose the stopover. To our surprise (and dismay), he chose Dallas.This was because he was an old cattleman from North Queensland who was raised on the black and white movies of the 30’s 40’s and 50’s, featuring the wild west of America with lots of cowboys wrangling longhorn cattle.Little did he know that Dallas is now an IT centre and the cattle were chased from the streets a long time ago. We set out to see ‘the sights’. When we asked at reception where we could catch the bus, the African American concierge looked condescendingly down his nose and said, ‘white folk don’t take the bus!’On finding out the fare of a cab to the CBD we informed him that ‘these white folk do take the bus’.When we clambered onto the bus it was clear that we were the only white folk. The locals were astonished and delighted at the same time. All on board were singing and rocking so of course we joined in, even Dad in his North Queensland Stetson. It was such a delightful trip.When we got to the Tourist Information Centre, it was smaller than a doctor’s surgery and manned by two very weary women. We were told that Dallas doesn’t actually need tourists.Begrudgingly, they gave us the option of seeing either the Book Depository from where JFK was assassinated, or the film site of the TV show Dallas. Dad chose the latter as he wanted to see a REAL Texas ranch.We arrived at the ranch, which was deserted, only to find that all the horses, cattle and ranch buildings were fake! They were made of plastic. Dad was appalled.At the plastic bar he asked for a genuine Texas steak. All they could deliver was Mexican bean soup. By this stage I was looking for a green space to run in, something like Hyde Park or Central Park with trees and grass. I could only see a patch of green from the top of the hotel around 10 km away; I set out for it. I eventually found the ‘park’ and commenced a jog on the grass when I saw a cavalry of golf buggies charging toward me, somewhat reminiscent of the Charge of the Light Brigade.When they reached me, they very politely but firmly pointed out that this was a private golf club. They also told me that there was ‘no such thing’ as public open spaces in Texas.When it came time to leave, I felt we hadn’t connected with the iconic cowboy culture… but I could certainly feel the ‘Live large. Think big’ way of life. The people we met were generous and amicable, and they actually loved the Australian accent, the last thing I expected anywhere.

Barcelona was a fitting location for the start of my Camino. For the uninitiated the Camino de Santiago, or in English the Way of St. James, is a network of pilgrims' ways or pilgrimages leading to the shrine of the apostle James in the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in northwestern Spain, where tradition holds that the remains of the apostle are buried.Barcelona lived up to and exceeded my expectations, assaulting my senses with a constant cacophony of colour, sounds, smells, tastes and sights. Especially the exuberant and juicy architecture.  Unfettered by a tyrannical bureaucracy, which Australians are well used to, the city let rip on every level, yet managed to remain, gentle and civilized. This was one full- blooded, vibrant city with so much to see and absorb. I found it, in a very sweet way…overwhelming. The locals, who became exasperated when we couldn’t understand their language, just shouted louder and louder, apparently believing that an increase in volume equated to an increase in comprehension. In reverse, Americans do much the same. Walking through the old city taking in the ambience, one could conjure up all that had transpired in that small space: Roman domination, Catholic domination, domination of the Americas. It all reeked of domination. Not in the usual detrimental way but with a flamboyance that rendered it forgivable. The works of Gaudi were everywhere. He was best known for his transcendence of the modernism of his day, combining architecture, religion and nature to produce creations that reflect those passions. The Sagrada Familia Basilica is the most highly recognised of Gaudi’s work, unfinished as it is. I had seen it in books and decided that it was sloppy, cluttered with all sorts of aberrations dangling from every nook and cranny. Only when I entered that sacred space did I start to understand the profundity of what he had built. A vast, cool and extravagant interior that amplified the eternal mysteries. The droves of visitors who talked in hushed tones are supplied with earphones that deliver a commentary which ingeniously takes them through the deeper levels and meanings of the design. I found myself riveted, going deeper and deeper into this amazing space. I was astonished by his intellect and spirituality.The markets were another unforgettable experience. Rack upon rack groaned under the weight of fresh vegetables, seafood, cheeses and breads. I wondered how the locals found enough time to consume so much on offer.  I soon found out that available time is not a problem for the Spanish. One of the cornerstones of their culture is the daily ritual of siesta. Business closes at 2pm and opens at 4pm. In the rural areas however the 4pm opening is often quietly forgotten. I felt so at home in this boisterous yet unhurried city.

Some years ago now my friends and I had quite an adventure in Laos. We survived our first misadventure in Luang Prabang, and decided to stay put for a while and just soak in the atmosphere. However, our plans changed when we noticed the cruise boats drifting up and down the river. They appeared to have dining decks where tourists were attended to by waiters. Eager for some comfort and luxury, we decided to give it a try.The following morning, John went to the ticket 'offices' on the shoreline and managed to purchase some tickets despite the language barrier. I was surprised at how cheap they were, but it wouldn’t be long before I found out why. We arrived at a longtail boat, about 10 metres long with a tiny cabin, assuming it would take us to a larger cruise boat. Instead, they advised us to get some lunch and enough water for the day. This was confusing, as the entire purpose was to dine in splendour. Four other travellers shared our assumption and were equally shocked when they realised that this small boat was our cruise.Six passengers and two crew had this small boat loaded with the water up to the gunnels. The seating consisted of the boat’s ribs, not even a plank of wood to form the actual seat. I felt a sinking feeling as we set off upstream. When we encountered grade three to four rapids, the driver would full-throttle the ancient engine to propel us across the rough sections, everyone sighing with relief as we made it into calmer waters.On one occasion, the engine failed, and we floundered onto a nearby beach. While the crew worked on the engine, I found a clump of bushes to relieve myself and, more importantly, grabbed a three-foot piece of giant bamboo to use as a makeshift life buoy if needed.Once we had passed the rapids and felt relaxed enough to look around, the sights were stunning: steep cliffs with caves enclosing ancient Buddha statues, dwellings on stilts over the river, villages with wooden buildings, and hordes of naked kids running and splashing.Our destination was a very primitive village in the upper reaches of the tributary. Exhausted, stiff, and sore, we didn't complain about the dilapidated overnight accommodations, but I lost my appetite when I saw the kebabs: rats, bats, giant spiders on sticks. We settled for the ubiquitous noodles.The next morning, we were told to board the boat for the return trip. I flatly refused and opted for the 'bus,' an antiquated utility vehicle with a canvas cover on the back. It was to be a three-hour journey with local women going to market. Among the usual array of wares and animals, I noticed under my legs a large section of bamboo with breath holes, from which emerged the longest, hairiest black legs I had ever seen - a giant bird-eating spider. Stifling a scream, I climbed out the back and spent the rest of the journey standing on the rear bumper bar. So much for our luxury cruise!Rest assured; this was in 2005. The destination has since changed dramatically - the five-star hotels have arrived. However, I loved Laos in its raw, innocent, and authentic state. I left in awe of the resilience of their ancient culture, religion, and traditions that remain indestructible despite occupying forces that failed to make a dent. Their spirit runs strong and eternal, like the river Mekong.

I was lost for words looking for an expression that would describe the ambience of Luang Prabang, so I drew on a phrase used by the French Colonialists when they occupied Indochina in the 19th century: ‘The Vietnamese planted the rice, the Cambodians tended to the rice but the Lao listened to it grow.”Some feel that this is a somewhat disparaging remark, implying that the Lao are lazy. But as someone who shared their lives, I feel that the French got it right. Their serenity and composure could be seen as laziness by those from the frenzied pace of the European industrial revolution.They merely displayed the effects of a deeply entrenched Buddhist culture. Here was the spiritual centre and base for the royal household. The tranquillity was palpable. The royal family was abolished in 1975, and Laos became a communist state. We took the bus from the capital Vientiane to Luang Prabang complete with all the chickens, pigs and a man with an AK-47 standing over us. He was to protect us from the serious separatists operating out of the mountains. This caused some concern but not as much as realising that the dirt road, which we were travelling on, was held in place by bamboo poles suspended over a bottomless gorge. This tested all my pretensions of having to ‘trust in the universe’! Our arrival was marked by a total lack of mayhem, which is found in most Asian towns. Everyone went around their usual daily chores against the backdrop of the magnificent architecture and the languid Mekong River. I noticed the stately bearing of the younger people, the women dressed in long sarongs and white blouses, their hair tied up on the top of their head amplifying their elegance.After booking into an old French Colonial guest house, we went searching for a guided trekking outfit. Being experienced global trekkers, we couldn’t wait to see what lay in those alluring limestone mountains. When checking in for this two-day walk, there was a lot of commotion made about my age (60). I could not understand this until I saw the physical shape of older women, who had spent their lives in the rice fields. They shuffled along with a pronounced sideway bend at their waists and seemed to be perennially tired.Our walk started out pleasantly enough, soft trails through the forest. But when we hit the steep climbs, the delight quickly turned to dismay. The trail, if you could see it over the long razor grass, was set at 30 degrees and in some places 45 degrees. In Europe or New Zealand, there would be set ropes for this gradient but all we had was bamboo trees and thick vines to hang onto. The surface was muddy and slippery. It was seriously challenging climbing in the hot steamy jungle, carrying a day’s water supply. At one point, I looked down to see myself covered with mud, blood and sweat. The tears were awaiting their turn. Descending was even worse, slipping and sliding on the edge of the trail exposing an abyss. At one stage, I lost it and let out a blood curdling scream and the worst obscenities one could imagine. (The sort of words that I learnt in the shearing shed and cattle camps of outback Queensland). That sent the hidden wild animals scattering as I tried to forget that tigers lurked in this location. Eventually, I found a piece of bark that I could sit on to slither down on my bum.Finally, we arrived at the Hmong village where we were to stay overnight. That night I slept the deepest sleep ever. The next day was a relaxed walk back, stopping at the famous Kuang Si falls with its clear turquoise waters.And, to think it was only the start of three amazing weeks.

Love Letter to Budapest.I state without hesitation that Budapest is one of the most romantic cities in the world. Maybe I say that because my trip there in 1972 was driven by a romance I was having with a Hungarian in Australia. He and his family escaped Budapest in 1956. When I decided to go to Europe, he suggested that I visit his old hometown and report on its status. In hindsight, that was quite a reckless suggestion, because at that stage in history we were in the middle of a cold war with Russia and the very words Communism or Soviet sent shivers down the spine.Val and I were hitchhiking all over Europe. When we got to Vienna, we decided to hitch to Budapest, three hours away. The border crossings were not at all like the punitive experiences we were expecting. Hungary had ‘soft communism’ and the customs officers were very friendly. In that era, Hungary was reported as ‘the merriest barracks in the block’. To get a visa, one had to check in to the police every day, hand over our cameras and stay where they dictated. They put us in the Fisherman’s Bastion that was (in 1972) a forlorn antiquated building on the banks of the Danube. At night we heard the hollow notes of a tinny piano and looked across at the other building to see a young ballerina practising in the warm orange light that contrasted to the darkness surrounding us. Like everything in the city, it looked as though WW2 and the ’56 revolution had only just happened. The buildings were a sooty black and covered with shelling craters. Statues stood faceless or headless. There were no privately owned cars, except a few that had been hand built from scrap metal. At night there was a complete absence of street lighting. There was but one very heroic little dress shop that had its windows lit up. The restaurants operated out of basements and were wonderful meeting places with gypsy music, the local ‘Bulls Blood’ wine and the hottest goulash I had ever had. This was where the locals went to escape the misery and sadness of the empty streets.Budapest was built in the last days of an exhausted and eroding empire. The grandeur of her architecture reflected one last gasp of defiance. The sort of defiance that made it not only survive but thrive under repressive regimes. Despite the generally depressed atmosphere, the city and its people exuded a pride and energy of unique ambience. Their resilience shone through. It was a heady brew of heroism and capitulation, sophistication and abrasiveness, demure and wild. Its resolute and sardonic spirit was constantly reinforced by the ever present Danube River, bisecting the city. Imagine my delight when almost 50 years later I flew into Budapest and saw her in all her former glory …  almost harking back to the splendour of the Hapsburg years. My abode of 1972, the Fisherman’s Bastion, was gleaming, as were all the other ancient buildings near The Chain Bridge. The night lights never seemed to go out. When it comes to Baroque architecture, the endless stunning buildings sometimes overwhelm the senses. It is often compared to Vienna, but there is a flighty tension, excitement and passion in the air that is missing in the more sedate European city. Plodding and staid, she is not.Budapest! I lived here! Among spirits! All soul! All Flesh! Coffee houses! Ecstasy! Wondrous night gone down in flames.Poem by D.Kosztolanyi

The Kiama Coast Holiday Parks team has had a whirlwind performance at the Sydney Caravan and Camping Supershow, spruiking our special slice of the South Coast.The team members were literally on their feet all day, every day of the six-day Supershow, selling the attractions of our beaches, mountains, towns and villages to the estimated 45,000 people who flooded through the gates at Rosehill Racecourse.The Supershow is a must-visit hotspot for anyone with a passion for camping and caravanning, with more than 250 exhibitors selling the latest motorhomes, campervans, caravans, camper-trailers and an amazing array of the newest and best camping gear.The show also provided daily seminars with invaluable insights and information across various aspects of camping and caravanning. With five parks across Kiama, Gerroa and Gerringong, Kiama Coast Holiday Parks team was able to sell potential guests on their great range of locations and accommodation types.However, these shows are as much about selling the whole destination, including local businesses, as the Holiday Parks themselves. This includes offering specials such as a ‘Winter Warmer Package’ to those visiting the Kiama Coast stall at the Supershow, in partnership with the Kiama Farmers’ Market.Industry expos remain an important part in competing for the holiday maker dollar, even in the modern world of social media influencers and online marketing.After nearly 50 hours of ‘putting their best foot forward’, the team has had little time to rest their legs, with bookings already rolling in.That’s shoe leather well spent.Kiama Coast Holiday Parks operates five holiday parks in the area, including Harbour Cabins, Seven Mile Beach, Werri Beach, Kendall’s Beach and Surf Beach and are currently offering winter 2024 specials: https://www.kiamacoast.com.au/specials/

The mist was the highlight at The Robertson Show this year, just SO Robertson! After a 40-minute trip from Kiama through picturesque Jamberoo, one was immediately enveloped in fog with very limited visibility.  The mist rolled in and out, clearing sporadically between events. The cattle judging, the stalls, the cowboy hats, and the rides all added to the iconic Southern Highlands atmosphere. From the classic sausage sandwiches to Devonshire teas, and of course, the spud creations – there was something for everyone. The outdoor fire pits created some fantastic combinations to savour.Rodeo, dodgems, fairy floss, and the show hosts put on a fantastic event, and people were not deterred by the episodes of mist or rain.  The main pavilion was getting muddier after each activity leading up to the famous potato races. It was hilarious to watch from the sidelines. The entrants grabbed their potato bags (in varying weights up to 50kg for the men), took off and disappeared into the mist – reappearing out of the mist near the finish line! Announcers ad-libbed the progress of the racers no one could see. The final of the men and women’s races were torn with tension on the finish line with surprises right in the last second. The $1000 prize money up for grabs meant competition was fierce. The men's winner had just run a 50km marathon that morning in Sydney! A whip-cracking performance for the rodeo and music and fireworks led to an epic weekend.   All in all, a great little trip away without having to hassle with airports and all the associated travel involved.

One of the many great features of living in Kiama and environs is that a day-return trip by car to Canberra's cultural attractions is easily achieved. For the next couple of weeks we strongly recommend that local lovers of comic or satirical portraits and political cartoons, should do as we have just done and travel to see both the 2024 Bald Archy exhibition (at the Watson Cultural Centre until 17 March) and the Behind The Lines 2023 exhibition of political cartoons at the Australian Museum of Democracy (Old Parliament House).The first Bald Archy exhibition, conceived by the late Peter Batey, dates back to 1994 and has always aimed  to be  a cheeky rival to the better known Archibald Prize competition. A $10000 prize will be awarded on 15 March for the best comical or satirical portrait of an Australian  "distinguished " in Arts, Science, Letters, Politics, Sport or the Media - plenty to choose from! The exhibition is a riot of fun and absurdity, and not to be missed by political junkies.Peter Batey's death in 2019, and the COVID-19 pandemic, provided great uncertainty about its future, and nowadays it is organised by the Museum of the Riverina in Wagga Wagga. However, after 17 March, the 28th Bald Archies will be exhibited only in regional NSW locations much further away from Kiama than Canberra; check for Canberra opening times before you go.Our added bonus was to also head to Old Parliament House for its annual riot of fun of political cartoons, this year centred on the theme "Fun and Games". While this exhibition will extend through 2024 we highly recommend combining the two in a day-return trip to Canberra. With Daylight Saving you can be back in "Australia’s Best Town" by sunset!Gordon and Heather Bell, Kiama

Parkes at Elvis Festival time is a very busy place, filled with hundreds/thousands in Elvis costumes and countless performances by Elvis impersonators, who prefer to be called "tribute artists". With accommodation at an absolute premium in Parkes and surrounds, we were pleased to discover that Railway Adventures, a company owned by TV personality Scott McGregor,  was planning to run its inaugural "Elvis Special" journey, so we jumped on board. We left Central a couple of hours after the well-known "Elvis Express".Refurbished carriages from the old Southern Aurora that are now privately owned provided  our accommodation and most meals, and became our home for four days. Our forward journey used the southern route via Cootamundra and included a lunch-time concert by tribute artist Damian Mullin at the Centennial Winery at Bowral en route to the Festival. Once at Parkes, the train was stabled in a siding with the Main Stage in Cooke Park, only a couple of hundred metres away as we enjoyed three days at the Festival. And what a great time we and 25,000 others had!All shows at Cooke Park are free, as they are in many other venues, while some signature concerts are ticketed. The atmosphere was great, with this year's Festival theme "Jailhouse Rock". In the traditional Festival Street Parade on the Saturday morning for over 45 minutes decorated floats and vintage cars, featuring countless costumed Elvis's and Miss Priscilla's, many in jailhouse apparel, sang and played Elvis songs. For a change of pace you could even play "Jailbird Croquet"!We were amazed at the overall quality of the Elvis tribute artists, many of whom are world-renowned, such as Taylor Rodriguez and Cote Deonath. Given Elvis Presley's musical beginnings, the Sunday morning Elvis Gospel Service on the Main Stage is regarded as a key part of the Festival, with renowned tribute artist Gabe Phoenix and up-and-coming 15-year-old Charlie Gaylard performing brilliantly. Guest speakers including the Mayor, local clergy and ministry representatives and former inmates from the local Kairos Prison featured in the Service, very appropriate for the Festival's Jailhouse Rock theme.We were on a high when our "Elvis Special" train rolled out of Parkes station around midday on Sunday, but the Elvis atmosphere well and truly remained in the lounge and dining cars on the train as we headed east through picturesque countryside towards the Blue Mountains, Central and home.One of the best weekends of our lives. Make sure you get to at least one Parkes Elvis Festival in your lifetime using any means of transport and accommodation. If you don't enjoy the shows on the Main Stage in Cooke Park we will fully refund your entry fee. Please do go to the Festival- after all, "It's now or never."By Heather and Gordon Bell

This is my last postcard from Saudi Arabia, before moving on to Egypt. I specifically went to Jeddah (and Al Wadj before it) to see and photograph the mashrabiyas in the 'old town' ('Al Balad', literally 'the town').What is a mashrabiya (sometimes spelled mashrabiyya, or you might hear it called a takhrima, barmaqli, gannariya, shanashil or rowshin!)? It's an architectural element which is characteristic of traditional architecture in the Islamic world and beyond. It is a type of projecting oriel window enclosed with carved wood latticework, located on the upper floors of a building.It was traditionally used to catch wind and for passive cooling. Jars and basins of water could be placed in it to cause evaporative cooling. The earliest evidence of the mashrabiya, in its current form, dates from the 12th century. Apart from their cooling function, one of the major purposes of the mashrabiya is privacy, an essential aspect of Arab and Muslim culture. From the mashrabiya window, occupants can obtain a good view of the street without being seen.The mashrabiya has been used since the Middle Ages, reached a peak during the Ottoman period, but fell into decline in the late 19th century and the first half of the 20th century. However, more recent interest in sustainable architecture has contributed to a revival of the mashrabiya.The mashrabiyas in Al Wadj were in a dilapidated section of the 'old town', but at least that gave me the opportunity to go inside an abandoned building and inspect a mashrabiya close-up from the inside.Jeddah, on the other hand, has some quite new mashrabiyas, as well as many older and dilapidated ones. The accompanying photo shows a row of fabric shops with accommodation above them. They display both old and new mashrabiyas, some new ones having air-conditioners fitted, perhaps attesting to the lack of effectiveness of the evaporative cooling of old!Daniel Ford

Last Christmas, I was on the other side of the world in the Canary Islands, and I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in Santa Cruz de Tenerife, the largest city on Tenerife Island.The Canary Islands is an autonomous territory of Spain and lies about 300 kilometres from the troubled area of Western Sahara in Africa, and over 2000 kilometres from Spain, with at least a three hour flight.It is a wealthy European enclave, which gets much of its economy from tourism, especially in Summer and during Carnivale, where the main parade on Shrove Tuesday takes over the whole city.In late December, Tenerife is still quite warm but not crowded at all, and the accommodation is quite cheap, sometimes ridiculously cheap. The Canaries are noted for their mild temperatures around the 20’s Celsius throughout Winter.I arrived off the ferry at Tenerife for Las Palmas on Christmas Eve at 4pm. The ferry is operated by a Swedish company called Fred Olsen, and the trip was effortless and comfortable from Las Palmas in Gran Canaris. It was the same company I travelled with over nearly three days by ferry from Huelva in Spain to reach Las Palmas in Gran Canaris.Walking around Santa Cruz, I was impressed by the great light displays along all the streets but puzzled by how quiet it was. In Spanish culture, Christmas Eve is not traditionally for gift-giving, but for family dinners. The gift-giving, especially to children, is held on 6 January as part of the Three Kings Festival, and many of the shops hold sales from Christmas to Three Kings.One remarkable event that occurred while in Tenerife was the arrival of the Calima, a sandstorm blown all the way from the Sahara, which is closer than one might think. It can obscure vision, shut down airports and even cause breathing difficulties as the sand is like fine dust hanging in the air.Santa Cruz divides into a tourist precinct along the sea, notably, the giant water park called Parque Maritimo Cesar Manrique with the nearby botanical gardens, the Palmetum. The Palmetum is a 12-hectare property built on a former garbage dump and specialises in palms, including many from Australia, Papua New Guinea and the Pacific.  It is a fascinating botanical experience.Like in the rest of Spain, it is always best and polite to use a tourist-level of Spanish for ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and so on.The street life in Santa Cruz, I much enjoyed the busking of an up-and-coming pop-rock group called Postcode at night, since very little entertainment outside the casinos or drinking bars seemed on offer. Street life during the day was also colourful, especially the bird whistle man of Santa Cruz, who was very skilled and entertaining. I bought one of his clay whistles which I still have, but on reflection, I dumped the syringe it came with to fill with water before my next flight.The place I recommend visitors explore and even stay in is the old city of San Cristobal de La Laguna which is where the University of La Laguna is located, and has much more vibrancy, and activity than actual Santa Cruz. It has the most interesting art galleries dedicated to highly talented local artists, local museums and a general sense of a town full of life.As a tip if you visit Tenerife on the cheap backpacking trail, San Cristobal is a must-see. There are numerous ads in Tenerife for huge water parks and even zoos, but they could be anywhere in the world really.I would recommend Gran Canaria much more than Tenerife, especially the north of the island around places such as Galdar. The south of the island has many resort towns where foreigners stay in garish concrete blocks in order to bake themselves in the sun. The north of Gran Canaria is much more authentic, cheap and fun and full of a variety of activities. For example, I got a trip on a tourist submarine at Playa de Mogan which turned out to be free as they had overbooked my first ride by three and offered us a refund to wait for the next trip in a few hours.Happy to head back to the Canary Island but be aware it’s much more expensive in the busy seasons!

Most people will have heard of Petra, the Jordanian city carved from solid rock by the ancient Nabateans. But few seem to have heard of its sister city, Mada'in Saleh (also known as Hegra, and also made by the Nabateans), near AlUla in Saudi Arabia.In 2008, UNESCO proclaimed Mada'in Saleh Saudi Arabia's first world heritage site. It was chosen for its well-preserved remains from the 1st century AD, especially the 131 monumental rock-cut tombs, with their elaborately ornamented façades.As a result of that heritage declaration, Saudi Arabia is taking steps to protect the site from further degradation, while also promoting it as a major tourist destination. As a result of these two actions, access to the tombs is now strictly controlled, and rather than being free to roam around the extensive site at leisure, we were taken by bus to four specific sites only, and allowed only limited time to inspect them.The accompanying photo is one of the better examples we visited. Some of the tombs were for prominent individuals, while others included multiple individuals, each in a slot carved into the walls.

Greetings from Shaqraa, Saudi Arabia! As most people do, I started my adventure to Saudi Arabia in the capital, Riyadh. Leaving there after a few days, I began hitchhiking north, towards the city of Shaqraa.Saudi Arabians are incredibly hospitable, welcoming, generous and friendly. Within minutes I had a lift part-way towards my destination. My third lift that day was an Arab dressed in the traditional style (see photo). While his English was poor, after the usual initial questions about my name and country, he then invited me to his home for traditional Arabian tea, coffee and dates, served by his wife and daughter.All the while in his car he was on the phone, with the name 'Australia' frequently mentioned. Little did I realise that he was organising with his closest fellow tribesmen a dinner in my honour! After driving me around to photograph all the places on my list, we ended up at a friend's date farm, where I was surprised to see several other men already waiting for us.On our arrival, they all stood up, and I went around the circle shaking each hand and introducing myself. With every late arrival, the same procedure occurred, except their friends received either three cheek kisses, or rubbed noses. It wasn't till later I found out that only Saudi men who are very close friends greet one another by touching noses. This indicates trust, intimacy and respect in the friendship. It is not performed unless people are deeply loyal to one another.One of the men took this photo with my phone, to preserve what is a very fond memory of my introduction to Saudi hospitality. The subsequent dinner, served in a nearby room while seated cross-legged on the carpet, was boiled camel, yellow rice and some leafy vegetable. Food is eaten with the hand, but only the right hand must be used.Regards,Daniel

For over three decades, I've been visiting Bermagui, a coastal delight that somehow manages to remain a well-kept secret. The local scenery is spectacular with a range of beautiful beaches and walks. There is a range of different accommodations, including holiday lets (see local real estate agents and websites), plus Airbnbs, and an array of caravan parks.If you’re like me, the first thing you’ll want in the morning is a good coffee and my favourite is Mr Hope in Bunga Street, who not only does wonderful coffee with every conceivable milk alternative but has some unique breakfast food offerings you don’t see anywhere else. The standout favourite is the potato, feta, rosemary and sea salt pide - the breakfast of champions. While other options like mushrooms and smashed tomato are tempting, once you've savoured the potato version, it's hard to go back.Don’t miss to visit Honorbread, the award-winning bakery just down the road. Honor has won numerous awards for her baking, and when you try their bread and pastries you’ll understand why. Personally, I can never resist the Kardemummabullar, a Swedish Cardamom Bun with a local twist known as the Mumbulla Mountain bun. Its a perfect balance of sweetness and flavour. The ginger scones there are equally tempting, making for a tough decision.Everyone who visits Bermagui should try the Fish & Chips at the Fisherman’s Wharf, as it's fresh and delicious. After lunch, to assist in working off the calories, you might like to go for a walk along the beach, either at Main Beach, which has a great reserve behind it, or around the corner at Beares Beach where you can let your dog run free.  The walk along the headland is excellent, starting from the War Memorial all the way along to the Blue Pool and  has a phenomenal view, where you can look out to sea and usually spot seals frolicking. For a refreshing dip descend the hundred-odd steps to a lovely fresh saltwater pool at the bottom. Before heading back to your accommodation, try the Gelati Clinic at the Fisherman’s Wharf which has some homemade offerings. All ingredients are locally sourced and made onsite. Their affogato is one of their highlights. Visitors can enjoy a variety of activities such as visiting Mimosa Winery, exploring landmarks like Camel Rock or Horse Head Rock, fishing, taking a nature tour, going on a river kayak tour, or playing a round of golf.. There is a long list of activities and places to visit. You’ll find all the details at The Bermagui Visitor Information Centre. 

Billed as the world’s most remote music festival, BIG RED BASH is located 35-kms west of Birdsville Queensland. As a crow flies, that is some 1400-1500-kms from the cities of Brisbane, Sydney and Melbourne but much further by road. This is its tenth anniversary year, and BIG RED BASH attracted over 10,000 people in attendance. A tremendous line up of musicians included: Icehouse, John Williamson, Chocolate Starfish, Angels, Hoodoo Gurus, Kate Ceberano, Troy Casser-Daly, Human Nature, Grace Knight, Mel Dwyer, Caitlin Shadbolt, Shane Howard, Wendy Mathews, Dragon and many more.  Apart from the music, there are many other events and activities for the whole family. This year some 5,838 people set a new world record for Nutbush dancing as sung by the legendary Tina Turner, who recently passed away. This record event raised some $90,000 for the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS). Further funding for RFDS came from Drag Race, Dunny Door painting, fashion parade and early entry/exit passes. Juvenile Type one Diabetes Medical Research received a huge donation from 5,467 people who dressed in blue clothing and wigs to form a giant map of Australia, which made another world record. Crack Up Sisters also entertained the crowd with their shows, comedy, whip cracking plus games and activities.  The event also included a big number of displays and food vendors to cater for the masses. Smith‘s mobile bakery made hot bread, pies, cakes, tarts and donuts for patrons. Other vendors did pizza, burgers, coffee, Mexican food, South American food, chicken, ice cream, fish & chips etc.   Festival goers could also do camel rides and helicopter flights. Festival organisers also had a huge range of merchandise for sale. Birdsville BIG RED BASH (with Big Red sand dune as a backdrop) certainly Rocks the Simpson Desert and is an iconic event that brings people back year after year. For myself, this was my fourth BIG RED BASH as a volunteer. I work as a stage builder along with about 400 volunteers that are road marshals, merchandise sellers, ticket staff, concert marshals, tent erectors, cooks, electricians, plumbers, dunny angels, stage hands, camp site and road set up teams etc. Some 11,000 man hours of work was done by volunteers to make this event a success plus a huge effort by the event staff members. It is a great event in that it showcases Australia’s music talent, has raised some $300,000 for charity. It has generated an estimated $20 million for the outback economy as patrons travel to and from Birdsville, spending money on fuel, food (groceries, meat, fruit and vegetables), caravan parks, hotel/motels, meals out, camping supplies and tourist attractions. It is a windfall for small towns like Birdsville, Boulia, Windorah, Quilpie, Winton etc. plus larger towns like Charleville, Cunnamulla, Longreach, St George and many others along the way. I believe it helps our economy where Australian tourism dollars are spent here rather than overseas.     Congratulations to Greg Donovan and his family who have founded and promoted Birdsville BIG RED BASH and making it such a great event. Greg was featured on ABC’s “Australia Story” some months ago.        

After returning to Guernsey in late May, I took a day trip to tiny Herm island, via a 30 minute ferry ride (in itself very scenic). Herm is a hidden gem, loved by the local Guernsey folk and visitors alike, many of whom come back yearly. Walking along the coast one comes to various beaches including the wonderful Shell Beach, with its stunning white sand with tiny shells. A good seasonal cafe has now started at Shell Beach and Belvoir Beach. There are scenic views towards Sark (another of the Channel Islands) and on a clear day you can see the French coast too.The cliffs are covered with beautiful wildflowers in the spring – in pink ,white and blue. If you’re lucky you can see puffins, most common in April and May, coming to nest in the rocky cliffs. Walking back across the common, one comes to the harbour where there are cottages for rent and the 5-star White House hotel.The alternative inland route from Shell Beach passes by tiny St Tugual’s chapel, with its lovely stained-glass windows, and from the garden there are great views back toward Guernsey.After a visit to Herm Island, you’ll come back to Guernsey refreshed, with a good suntan and a fond wish to return soon.FROM MARGARET MITCHELL, GERRINGONG

Everywhere in Northwestern France, visitors are immersed in examples of stunning natural beauty and rich history. Against this high bar, breathtaking Mont-Saint-Michel stands out as the jewel in the crown. We visited recently on a busy Ascension long weekend in May. One of Europe’s most visited attractions, drawing up to three million visitors each year, Mont-Saint-Michel is a rocky granite island outcrop rising out of a beautiful bay just east of the Couesnon River, which opens onto the English Channel. Construction of its buildings began a thousand years ago. At the island’s base, thick medieval fortress walls and towers surround and support the magnificent gothic abbey at its peak, which in turn towers over the village buildings and grounds clustered around it.  Mont-Saint-Michel has played a key role in various wars and battles, as a fortress resisting sieges. It was in centuries past the biggest western world pilgrimage site, attracting more pilgrims than Santiago de Compostela.  Mont-Saint-Michel was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1979.

With the chilly months fast approaching, my wife Julie and I escaped north to Port Douglas to find the last glimmers of warmth.After a three-hour flight, we found the sound as temperatures rose to 25 degrees, a much kinder experience than the blustering winds we’ve had back home.We’re usually intrepid overseas travellers, but we still appreciate and enjoy the convenience of travelling in our own backyard.On a previous trip up north, I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a cassowary in the wild, but Julie was yet to spot the elusive create.On this trip, magic happened.A beautiful cassowary started crossing the road right in front of us, not alone either; it was trailed by its little chicks following close behind.Next was a day trip to Mossman River for snorkelling, which produced the highlight of the trip: a turtle popped up from out of the water right in front of us.It’s such an amazing experience when something so wild and free joins you, even if just for a moment.That afternoon saw us drift down the Mossman River on a specially built inflatable air bed, where we could lay back and watch the rainforest’s ceiling pass us by.We’re back home now and fully recharged, but still missing the wonderful tropical north each day.