Journalist, historian and novelist Jan Morris will share her love of writing and travel with an audience at the Royal Geographical Society (with IBG) on Tuesday 15th April.

It promises to be an enlightening evening: Jan Morris “one of the most remarkable literary careers in the second half of the twentieth century” (The Guardian), has been writing for over fifty years and is a major figure in journalism travel writing in Britain and the United States. Major reporting landmarks include coverage (as James Morris) on the British ascent of Everest the day before HRH Queen Elizabeth’s Coronation in 1953 – an event that touched the world. Since then she has gone on to write over thirty books about her travels around the world, covering the British Empire, Europe, Venice, Hong Kong, Sydney, Spain to name a few.

Described in the New York Times as “perhaps the best descriptive writer of our time”, Jan Morris is renowned for her unique writing style – her use of peculiar words, her personal perspective and her descriptive and imaginative prose which captures the spirit of the place she is writing about. In her own words she says “The best way to find out about a place is wander around. Wander around, alone, with all your antennae out thinking about what’s happening and what you see and what you feel”.

Date: Tuesday 15th April 2003

Time: 7.00 pm

Location: RGS-IBG, 1 Kensington Gore, London SW7 2AR

Details: An informal interview, travel writer and journalist Jan Morris talks to Libby Purves about her love of travel and writing.

Cost: £5 per ticket

Ticket Request: Events Hotline on +44 (0) 20 7591 3100 or email: events@rgs.org To view more details, visit: www.rgs.org

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‘But do you actually do any good?’

As a foreign aid worker I often get that question, usually asked rhetorically by my travelling friends who have long ago made up their minds that ‘expats’ are a waste of space. They punctuate their prejudice with pithy anecdotes from their travels – tales of drunken UN workers they saw picking up girls in bars, the 4×4 cars with logos of famous charities spotted on safari in African game parks. Or the aid workers who commandeered a luxury local villa (complete with swimming pool) upwind from the refugee camp.

And many foreign aid workers are as quick to stereotype travellers. There is the bargain-hunting backpacker who barters locals under the poverty line, or the holidaymaker glued behind a video camera who wanders into a war zone.

I recently saw these counterpoints crystallised in a string of messages posted on the Internet, on a travellers’ bulletin board. The comments kicked off with a backpacker in Africa who called foreign aid workers ‘the ultimate travel snobs, on some kind of human suffering safari’. Another weighed in with: “The majority of foreign workers I have come across in east and central Africa are just there for the money and good life.”

Aid workers – who obviously are tuned into travellers’ web sites – quickly hit back. Said one: “Can you imagine what it was like in post-genocide Rwanda? I can, I was there. So if aid workers want to get drunk and blow off a little steam then I can understand.” Another added: “What the hell business does a back-backer have being in either a war-zone or a disaster site? Chances are good that they are getting in the way.”

And so it flowed on with arguments launched from both sides of the divide. I read with great interest, perhaps because I have a foot in both camps. I had worked in long-haul adventure travel years before I became a Logistician for MSF. So I have met a myriad of traveller types, just as I now know a kaleidoscope of aid workers, of varying competencies and qualities.

I like to think there is good on both sides.

Travel is the world’s biggest industry and potentially a huge power for economic good. Tourism, properly managed, can generate a quick flow of cash from rich to poor pockets. And those hard-bitten backpackers (the same ones who slag off aid workers) are the pioneer species of their type – hardy weeds who spread into those corners of the globe still ‘caution strongly advised’ by the Foreign Office, but precursors for more lucrative tourism that will surely follow if better times come.

Do aid workers do good? I can only talk from my own experience. As a field worker for Médecins Sans Frontières in Colombia I have never doubted for a minute the value of our project. I worked with MSF in the conflict zone, helping get mobile health clinics to a civilian population terrorised by opposing war gangs; guerrillas, paramilitaries or drug gangs. In most cases these villages were abandoned by the state, or worse subjected to barbarities by the same state forces supposedly there to protect them.

Often we were the only outsiders to reach these villages. I will never forget the joy of the campesinos who come to greet us. Just our presence in this troubled zone was as vital as our medical work. Alongside our local and dedicated Colombian counterparts, we ran risks every day to get our work done, and as expats ‘in charge’ we often worked months without a day off. It was not a holiday.

Yes, I admit, at first I was thrilled at the ‘exclusivity’ of our mission, seduced perhaps by the frisson of being a one-and-only in the backwoods of a country at war. No, I can’t guarantee that our work – however welcome in the short term – will affect the torturous path of Colombia’s 40-year war.

Because of course aid workers cannot cure all of the world’s ills, any more than travellers and tourism can provide a post-op panacea. Both have the power for good and harm.

But I would like to see those lush hills of Colombia to be traversed by happy mountain-bikers. The campesinos, in between farming avocados, guiding birdwatchers and orchid lovers along the banks of clear streams. Homesteaders sell bowls of fragrant chicken stew to grateful hikers. The abandoned health posts are repaired, the village schools get their roofs back, the bullet holes are plastered over, and a teacher welcomes his young smiling students. Then I would be happier to be on holiday than working as an expat.

Steve has been on 3 missions for medical aid charity Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) in Colombia and El Salvador. He is currently in Angola as an MSF Logistician on a primary health care and nutrition project. Take a look at www.uk.msf.org for more info on volunteering for MSF.

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We reported back in January that UK based Ryanair planned to buy Buzz, a rival low cost airline. Buzz serves 21 destinations in England, France, Germany, Holland and Switzerland. Surprise surprise, Ryanair plans to drop 18 Buzz routes, including Paris, Amsterdam and Frankfurt that are expected to be dropped permanently.

When Ryanair bought buzz from KLM, KLM told passengers not to book Buzz flights after March until its new owners revealed where it would continue to serve.

Many regular UK passengers own holiday homes in remote parts of France, served by Buzz routes to airports such as Poitiers, Limoges and Bergerac – which may no longer be served by Ryanair. Some passengers who had booked to destinations including Bordeaux, Caen and Frankfurt, will now have to abandon their travel plans or rebook at greater expense on other carriers. Some are planning to take legal action over lost money on hotel bookings and car hire. A buzz spokesman said passengers would receive refunds for cancelled flights but added the airline would not pay other compensation. KLM called Ryanair ‘irresponsible’ for failing to keep its passengers informed.

BUZZ ROUTES CANCELLED

• Charles de Gaulle
• Dijon
• Amsterdam
• Marseille
• Toulon
• Tours
• Bergerac
• Caen
• Geneva
• Chambery
• Brest
• Almeria

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For those seeking the ultimate adventure in natural surroundings, a recommended place that has captured the imagination of many travellers is the Sepik River Region, located on the north coast of Papua New Guinea.

Here you will find everything from ancient cultures and traditional arts and crafts to exotic birds and wildlife including crocodiles. A popular tourist activity is river canoeing, using motor-powered traditional canoes. The region is world-renowned for the 1,100-kilometre long Sepik River, its ancient and primitive arts and is considered Papua New Guinea’s equivalent to the Amazon and the Congo rivers.

The mere mention of the word the Sepik also conjures up images of the secret men’s house, the haus tambaran but its best-kept secret is the Sepik Blue (Dendrobium lasianthera), a species of orchid that is endemic to this region.

But the Sepik is much more than just the river, its people and arts. It’s about magnificent coastlines with white sandy beaches, beautiful volcanic islands, tropical rainforests, grassy plains, high plateaus and plenty of war history.

The region’s provincial capital and centre for commerce and an international airport is Wewak, a coastal town littered with remnants from World War 2 and the only major town in PNG with a white-sandy beachfront, perfect for swimming, light surf and as a perfect anchorage for visiting yachts.

The Sepik River region’s fame and importance is largely due its richness in art and the river itself serves as a source of inspiration and influence for its people, their lifestyle, traditional beliefs, customs and art forms, reflected in statues, masks, neck-rests, stalls, hooks, shields, baskets, pottery and skin cutting.

Sepik art is known to be richer and having more variety than any other region in the Oceania Region. The main area that is rich in art is the middle river region, a densely populated area with nearly 30 large villages of the Iatmul language group people. Tucked away in this corner of Papua New Guinea is the small river village of Aibom that has captured the attention of the ceramic world with their masterpieces of pottery. Many potters and researchers from around the world visit the Aibom pottery village every year.

From the air, the Sepik River and its many tributaries and estuaries looks more like a collection of brown snakes of numerous sizes, meandering over the forests floor for 1,100 km on its way to the Bismark Sea.

The Upper Sepik is mountainous and known for its insect cults while the Lower Sepik is primarily swampland and its people’s life and culture is based around their relationship with and reverence for the crocodile.

The Middle and Lower Sepik experience seasonal floods that come as a blessing because they sweep hard wood logs down-stream that are collected and used as material for building houses and carvings. Up and down the river, people make use of the rising river levels to move between villages, attend to their clan and tribal obligations and trade fish, sago and clay pots.

Wewak is a spread-out town and is clogged in places by swamps and mangroves and has an extensive mountain range as its backdrop. For the holidaymaker, this is a scenic town and has its fair share of war history to tell. The town and surrounding hills are littered with remnants from the war. A must-see is Mission Hill that houses Japanese AA guns, the look-out at Boys Town and Wom War Memorial Park, the site of the Japanese surrender in WWII.

Further out of town, a recommended stop is Maprik, south of Wewak and known for the haus tambaran and yam ceremonies and masks while Angoram is the best place to pick up Kambot storyboards.

For those wanting a feel of PNG’s own version of the sun, sand and the surf, there are many off-shore islands close to Wewak that are perfect for this activity, among them, Mushu Island which has some of the most pristine blue waters, high pounding waves and unexplored coral reefs in PNG.

North of Wewak, the volcanic island of Kairuru is worth exploring. The main area of focus is the Catholic mission station and school and there is enormous potential for nature-based and adventure activities. You can trek following traditional gardening routes or if you would rather stay close to the sea, there is snorkelling or you can choose to observe thermal springs or take a hike to a beautiful natural lake in the island’s mountainous interior.

The author, Steven Mago is a journalist, travel writer and tourism promoter. He was born in Papua New Guinea but for the time being is living in Sydney. Steven can be contacted on: stevenmago@hotmail.com

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This is Muir’s Tours most popular volunteer placement: the Przewalski horse was almost wiped out, when horse lovers decided to start a breeding programme from the few that remained in zoos. We now need to observe their behaviour in the wild – this is where you come in. We need you to walk and ride the steppe of Mongolia – watching and noting how they cope, as they learn to live in the wild.

Interested? Look at: Muir’s Tours Mongolia Przewalski Horse Volunteers

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“So how did you get into such a mess anyway?” We both looked down at my bandaged knees and horrendously blistered feet, clogged with shreds of zinc tape. “It’s a long story.” “Well, you can tell it to me over a beer.”

Grégoire, a log cutter from Ortù, one of Corsica’s remotest villages, had picked me up at the bottom of the Liamone valley, hobbling north towards the pale grey needle peaks in the distance. This corner of the island’s wild interior, ringed by miles of granite mountains, is renowned as a nationalist bastion (the goatherd who gunned down the French governor a few years back is believed to still be at large in the hills hereabouts), and I was surprised to be offered a lift at all, let alone one to the end of the road.

“Just don’t talk politics”, my host warned me under his breath as we stepped into the village bar. Plied with draught chestnut beer and chasers of myrtle liqueur, I spilled out my story. In two months of rough walking, I’d run into one set back after another: knee injuries, nocturnal wild boar attacks, a mouth abscess, a mad dentist who’d broken an anaesthetic needle in my gum, and, finally, a root canal filling that had cost more than my flight.

.

“No doubt about it,” he nodded, “Evil Eye. Quelqu’un t’as fait la mauvaise oeuil, mon pote.” I’d read about the Eye – l’Occhiu – in old ethnographies – how it was believed someone could cast a malevolent spell with the wrong kind of look, a jealous comment, by saying how well your children looked or praising the appearance of your horse. But I didn’t see what any of this had to do with my blisters. “Don’t worry. I know someone who can sort you out. Come.”

Draining his glass, Grégoire led me back out into the glaring light of the square and through a series of alleys to an ancient stone house with pots of geraniums growing from oil tins on its window sills. A knock at the door was answered by an elderly woman with purple-tinted hair and a gleam in her eye. Grégoire muttered something in Corsican, and I was ushered into a shuttered front room that smelt of church and wood smoke.

The woman, Grégoire explained, was a Signatora, a “Sign-Maker”. “She’s going to find out if you’ve got the Eye.” I watched as a candle was lit, a shallow bowl filled with water and drops of oil poured into it. Closing her eyes and lowering her head, the Signatora then began to murmur verses in what sounded like Latin, pausing every now and again to make the sign of the cross over the bowl. After two or three minutes, Grégoire’s eyebrows raised steadily as, on the surface of the water, the unmistakable form of an eye began to take shape. There were knowing looks and more exchanges in Corsican. “She’s going to cut some of your hair, to break the bad spell later,” he said enigmatically. “Don’t, whatever you do, thank her, ok?” So I merely smiled and waved goodbye as we stepped back into the sunlight of the street.

Now, I’m not a great one for superstitions. But I have to admit that from the time I left that old lady’s house I felt unburdened in some profound way. Suddenly life felt like a freshly oiled bicycle wheel again. Having said farewell to Grégoire (being careful not to thank him either) I flew through the forest to the top of the valley and the mountain hut I’d limped down from a week before, and polished off the rest of the infamous GR20 haute route in a week, without so much as a twinge from teeth or toes. More amazing still, waiting for me at the refuge after I’d left the Signatora, munching his way through a packet of Hobnobs and a cup of PG Tips, was my old flat-mate from college, who’d just happened to have arrived – a chance in a million.

Who says there’s no magic left in travelling?

©First Published in Wanderlust magazine, 2002. David is the author of the Rough Guide to Corsica (now in its fourth edition) and the Trailblazer Guide to Trekking in Corsica.

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Meeting news from our branches around the world.

Spotted by eagle eyed Kevin, the Membership Secretary: a new low cost airline is being launched at Luton, called “NOW”. The new airline will offer fixed fares according to the season, so that all passengers on the same flight will have paid the same amount. Now’s flights will be priced in zones, e.g. Manchester is in Zone A, a one way flight will start from £35. Whereas Lisbon in Zone E will have one way fares starting from £65 + tax.

Now is scheduled to begin services in June 2003, using 2 aircraft flying to

Manchester, Lisbon, Tenerife, Jersey and Rome. After 3 months there are plans to add an aircraft to the fleet add Valencia and Dusseldorf to the list of destinations serviced.

This will add another 30 flights/week at Luton providing another 650,000

seats in the first year.

Now expect to sell around 80% of the tickets via their website

www.fly-now.com

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