Keeping up with the Joneses…
Former Claridge's general manager and director Ron Jones and his wife Eve spend five months of the year as guest speakers on cruise ships or on assignments in Europe and the USA. Just before Christmas they embarked on a trip to the other side of the world. Here we share some of their experiences
BANGKOK, 27 December. Sometimes it's good for the soul, in a city like Bangkok, to eschew the pointless theatricality and even more pointless room rates of the Mandarin Oriental in favour of a little local flavour. We spent a night at the three-star Hotel Asia Airport. Found, booked and prepaid on the Internet, it all worked like magic. The shuttle bus found us, the front desk found our reservation, and we were ushered up to the requested "quiet room on an upper floor" within minutes.
We were almost sorry to miss the "traditional Christmas dinner" of seafood basket with tatar (sic) sauce, crab meat soup, orange sherbet, ostrich steak with garlic sauce, and crêpe suzette.
Staff greeted us with both namaste and "a merry Christmas to you". They took care over our 4.45 wake-up call, 5.15 porter and 5.30 shuttle for our six o'clock check-in. Breakfast was served in the coffee shop from 5.15. We enjoyed the outdoor pool and checked out the fitness centre and bowling alley. The bill? £32 - less than continental breakfast at the Mandarin Oriental two years ago.
SYDNEY, 1 January. The first thing that strikes you about the Aussies these days is how downright obliging they are. They're friendly not because it's good for tourism, but because they're terminally friendly and laid-back by nature, sure of themselves in the nicest possible way. You don't hear the expression "whingeing pom" nowadays because they just wouldn't be that nasty!
Bus drivers, shop assistants, people you meet on beaches or on ferries, all seem genuinely to want you to have as good a time as they're having, especially since they're fortunate enough to live here and you're not! Waiters and waitresses greet you warmly and look after you well.
It's show time
Nobody can throw a party like Sydneysiders. We arrived at a city en fête for New Year. Bush fires raged and the pall of smoke hanging over the highest buildings cast a shadow over things, but celebrations were under way regardless.
The organisation was impressive, not least because of the rows and rows of Portaloos everywhere crowds were expected. Just as prolific were the banks of litter bins, three in a row, for plastic, paper and non-recyclable waste.
Entry to public events was strictly controlled, with 24-hour traffic diversions, security bag searches, refusal of admission to anybody under the influence, and no alcohol allowed except that dispensed from the authorised bars. Ken Livingstone - check it out.
We brought in the New Year at the 72nd floor revolving restaurant of the Sydney Tower. Five-course dinner with unlimited good wines and Piper-Heidsieck at midnight, dancing to two bands and a fabulous 360-degree view of the fireworks over Sydney Harbour Bridge came to $275 per person or, thanks to the current exchange rate, £100.
Our waiter confided that it was easy this year, with 150 covers on our level. "Last year we had 350. We were cramming in extra tables at the last minute - but that was before 11 September."
After the billions of dollars poured into the infrastructure and upgrading of visitor attractions for the Olympics - at the expense, say some, of public health and education - Sydney might have expected compensation from an influx of tourists to this designated "number one international city destination". Now, with the triple whammy of a struggling dollar, a promise of overseas visitors hit by terrorism, and bush fires wreaking havoc in the outer suburbs, the city must be wondering where it all went wrong.
For us, of course, it means Australia, once you've shelled out for the fare, is an economical and worthwhile destination. Even in Oz's most expensive city, our smart serviced apartment within easy walking distance of everything costs the equivalent of £40 a night. This includes air conditioning, daily maid and full concierge service.
It also means we snagged tickets for three productions at the Opera House - Faust, The Marriage of Figaro and a Saturday night symphony performance in the Concert Hall - £162 for all six tickets.
Wining poms
We're looking forward to a lively reunion with Keith and Pat Duncan, who farm in the Hunter Valley. We were tablemates a few years ago on Royal Viking Sun and they unwittingly provided our first insight into the New World Palate syndrome. They introduced us to some striking South and Western Australia wines. We worked our way through the ship's affordable Bordeaux, Burgundy and Italian gems. We loved it, they didn't. Not the Gevrey Chambertin nor the Sassicaia, not even the Langoa Barton. None, they said, quite lived up to expectations.
Only later did we realise they demonstrated what is now an accepted phenomenon in the UK - such a liking for the fruit-driven, upfront style of New World wines that European wines become less acceptable to our palates. Eve finds it with her wine students - they want wines that are easy to love and offer instant gratification, at the expense of the more subtle, complex flavours of the old world.
