Severe winter weather continues to disrupt travel in Germany, forcing the cancellation of more than 200 flights, and contributing to road accidents. At Frankfurt airport, 226 flights were cancelled and hundreds of passengers stranded as snow ploughs struggled to clear runways.
Shopping in Europe can be fun, but not if you let it overwhelm your trip. I like to shop smart, spending my time — and money — efficiently. Based on three decades of travel, here are my top tips for shopping in Europe.
Shopping in Europe can be fun, but not if you let it overwhelm your trip. I like to shop smart, spending my time — and money — efficiently. Based on three decades of travel, here are my top tips for shopping in Europe
I was thinking while I was in Munich that I’ve probably had a few too many holidays this year. Not that there’s such a thing as ‘too many holidays’ but there is when it comes to my bank account.
There are only a select few individuals that possess the ability to pass out asleep at 5:30 pm and stay in that state until 9 am the next morning, and I, my dear friends, belong to that set of few individuals.
I spent about 60% of the last 8 months working for a client in China and wanted to share some observations, particularly around the Chinese economy. I grew up as the Berlin Wall fell and “casting aside the yoke of their oppressor” seemed to be an apt phrase to describe the images of the times
Fall of Berlin Wall 20th anniversary includes Heidelberg packaging exhibition…we’re talkintravel.
I live in Sharjah, the most conservative of the United Arab Emirates. I read about this before I came but I thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal
I’ve decided to leave well on time. It’s only just after lunch and I reckon I’ll arrive at the hotel early in the evening. That means that I will drive most of the way while it’s still daylight. I get tired driving in the dark for too long, over unfamiliar roads, not sure about exits and what lies beyond, and then deep inside I’m nervous about whether or not the satnav will drop me at the right spot or whether I’ll find myself once more in the middle of nowhere with the female voice calmly telling me ‘You have reached your destination…’, and all around is dark and not a house or hotel in sight. An hour and a half later I cruise along the M14, well on my way to the M6, then the M5, then Wales. It’s quite busy on the road, and the average speed in the outside lane is between 65 and 70 miles per hour, well within the speed limit. I leave plenty of space between my car and the car in front of me and notice in the mirror that a police car is stuck behind me and at times comes quite close up. I wonder whether it wants to get along faster, overtake me on its way to somewhere urgent, and I pull into the left hand lane, letting it pass. Two policemen in the front of the vehicle look at me, sideway, and then say something to each other. Something is up and I wonder what it is, they move ahead of me in the left hand lane and then their blue flashing lights come on, briefly. The sign on top of their car shows in red lettering ‘….me…’, then a pause, then ‘….follow….’ and again ‘….me…’ Arms are out of windows on each side, signaling urgently for me to follow them. Bemused I follow them, off the motorway, they seem to know where they are, and we drive into the parking area of a road side restaurant or hotel, I cannot remember. It feels as if I am suddenly inside an airless car, a strange kind of expectation and bewilderment envelopes me; what is it they want of me and I wonder briefly if perhaps one of my rear lights is falling off, or one of my doors is not properly closed, or… well, all sorts of nonsense. When we come to a stop at the very end of the car park, where it’s quiet and there is not another car parked anywhere within the next four rows, the driver gets out and walks up to my car, swaggering in his uniform trousers and blue shirt sleeves. I’ve come to a stop next to their car and I wind down my window, wondering what on earth they want of me. My car is in good shape, it’s just been MOT-ed for the first time, had a complete service recently. ‘Would you mind just answering a few questions’, he says. ‘You don’t appear to have a valid insurance.’ I must have gaped, my mouth falling open. ‘Must be a mistake,’ I say. ‘I’ve only very recently renewed my insurance.’ I am asked to sit in the back of their car. It’s all beginning to feel a bit unreal and I wonder about being ‘stopped and searched’, the sort of thing that appears to happen to other people, you read about. I keep quiet as they show me their little computer screen, fixed to their dashboard, which has my name on it, my address, and the notice ‘no valid insurance’. What on earth is going on? What has made them look up my vehicle registration number in the first place and why does it come up with ‘no insurance’? I get my mobile out of my handbag and tell them I’ll ring my broker who will let them know that I have paid and confirm the insurance number. They do their own calling, to a central office, to a motor bureau of some kind and various others. I hear one of them say: ‘We have a lady here who has no valid insurance, can you check this up for me please’, and wonder about presumed innocence before being branded guilty. It becomes clear to me that the central big brother is assumed to be right, it has found me out, and I am the guilty citizen.
THIS morning, when I came back from the supermarket, I bumped into Rodney Hide. Maybe it’s just me… – but I kind of had the impression he looked angry