Travel from the rest of the world to the U.S. falls … again

by Tom Johansmeyer on

Travel fell again in 2009, according to U.S. Department of Commerce data, as a weak economy put pressure on both personal and corporate travel budgets.

Only 3.6 million people arrived from other countries, marking a decline of 11 percent from June 2008 to June 2009. For the six months of the year, international arrivals were off 10 percent year-over-year. The spending situation was even worse. Guests to the United States fell 22 percent from June 2008 to June 2009, the eight month in a row in which this measure dropped. For the first half of the year, foreign visitors spent $60 billion – a 15 percent decline.

Travel from Canada took a hit in June, down 13 percent in June. Land arrivals fell 15 percent, with 11 percent fewer coming by air. For the first half of the year, Canadian visits were off 9 percent. The situation with Mexico was more favorable. Land arrivals jumped 5 percent, with air travel down 15 percent. Overall, travel from Mexico to the United States showed a modest decline of 1 percent for the month of June. For the year, however, visits from Mexico plunged 13 percent year-over-year.

Excluding Canada and Mexico, foreign visits fell for 16 of the top 20 countries in June – nine at double-digit rates. For the first two quarters of 2009, the results for the top 20 are the same, though only eight countries posted double-digit drops. Travel from Europe fell 11 percent for the first half of the year, with the United Kingdom posting a worse-than-average rate of 17 percent. This country accounts for 36 percent of all Western European arrivals, and Western Europe is responsible for close to half of all overseas visitors to the United States. Visits from Eastern Europe were up 3 percent from June 2008 to June 2009 and 1 percent for the first half of the year.

Asia, however, sustained the greatest drops. From June 2008 to June 2009, visitation from Asia fell 28 percent – driving the first-half results down 17 percent. Visits from Japan plunged 39 percent from June to June and 18 percent for the first half of the year. Japan sent 51 percent of Asian visitors to the United States in the first half of the year. Travel from South Korea and India fell 17 percent and 14 percent, respectively, with China down 4 percent for the first half of the year.

Heathrow up, other UK airports see traffic fall

by Tom Johansmeyer on

Vacationers compensated for business travelers at Heathrow last month, helping the airport realize its busiest August in history. Airport operator BAA Ltd. noted that its total traffic, though, had fallen 3.1 percent for the month. Heathrow is Europe’s busiest airport, and 6.4 million passengers passed through, a slight increase of 0.3 percent compared to August 2008.

The other London airports didn’t fare as well, unfortunately. Traffic through London Gatwick dropped 4.6 percent, and London Stansted saw a decline of 7.8 percent, according to BAA. Elsewhere in the United Kingdom, Edinburgh celebrated a 4.8 percent increase in passenger action for the month of August – its fifth month in a row of monthly up-ticks. Glasgow, Aberdeen and England’s Southampton, however, saw declines of 13.4 percent, 9.8 percent and 3.7 percent, respectively.

Through the Gadling Lens: photographing autumn

by Karen Walrond on

Here in the United States, Labor Day is now over, and all of the kids are back in school — sure signs that, despite the actual calendar date, summer is gone and fall is right around the corner. This makes me happy: while spring has those beautiful blue skies, winter is certainly pretty with all its whiteness and, let’s face it, summer gets all the really great press, in my opinion, autumn is really the most photogenic season of the year. There are just so many moods of autumn, you know? And so, this week, I thought I’d share some inspiration, with thanks to the people who have shared their images in the Gadling Flickr pool, on how to capture this beautiful season.
1. Colour

First of all, and most obviously, autumn is known for its rich, vibrant colour. If you’re lucky enough to live in a place that gets really showy around this time of year (or you’re planning on taking a trip to a similarly beautiful location), there’s no end of inspiration for taking a great photograph that really showcases and shows off autumn’s amazing colours. Here’s a great example:

This beautiful image shared by Matteo.Mazzoni in our Gadling Flickr pool is a great example of not only capturing amazing vibrant colour by filling the image with it, but it also shows how you can use depth of field to really enhances all of the beautiful hues that autumn can bring. A really (and quite literally) a brilliant shot.

But what about if, like me, you live in (or are traveling to) a place that isn’t particularly well-known for its resplendent foliage? (Who am I kidding: here in Houston, we barely have any colour change at all — leaves just turn brown one day and fall off). In this case, if you’re still looking to capture the colours of the season, you need to get a bit more creative:


In this great shot captured and shared by Donna Dow/Funkiller, instead of focusing on entire trees filled with red foliage, she instead captures the colour of only two leaves — the result still gives the feel of fall, still makes you wonder at the vibrancy that is autumn, but it takes the pressure of of her to find an entire treefull of great, bright leaves. I love this: even I might be able to pull this off here in Houston.

2. Mood.

Once you get past autumn’s colour, one of the things I love the most about autumn is how changeable the weather can be, and how the mood can change from bright and crisp one minute, to dark and gloomy the next. If you’re traveling to a location that has a true autumn, don’t forget to capture some of the dark moods of autumn in addition to the light ones. The following are two great examples:

I love this shot of this foggy autumn day in England (particularly since I lived in London for a little under 2 years, and boy, does this look familiar). This image was shared by mingthien in the Flickr pool, and is a great example of how sometimes sharpness and deep contrast can detract from the mood of an image. Looking at this shot, you can almost feel the tiny little cold drops of moisture in the air, and the dampness that sinks into your bones.

I think I feel a cold coming on.

In contrast, however, look at this image:

This amazing image, shared by t3mujin, was taken in Paris — and with far more contrast in this shot, the image conveys the darkness autumn is sometimes capable of creating. I love the pop of orange in the leaves on the ground — the telltale sign of the season — and I particularly like the inclusion of the man in the right corner, bracing himself against the windy drizzle. Beautiful, beautiful mood.

3. Activities and sports.

I think when most of us think of seasonal activities and sports, we tend to think of only two seasons: summer and winter. But the truth is, when you take a look around, there’s usually always something going on, even in autumn. And the beauty of capturing these activities in the autumn is that oftentimes the scenery and the setting around the action can help convey the season.

One great example:

(An admission: it’s entirely possible that I’m drawn to this photograph shared by localsurfer because it was apparently taken in Devon, and my English husband used to constantly surf in his neighbouring county of Cornwall. They’re both bloody nuts, if you ask me — the water in England is cold). This shot appeals to me because even though it’s a pretty classic image of a surfer on a beach, the fact that (a) the surfer is wearing a wetsuit (and judging from the bunching around his neck, a pretty thick one, at that), and (b) the colour of the ocean is mirroring the grey clouds, above, it’s pretty clear this shot was taken on a chilly day in autumn. Beautiful capture.

Similarly:

I love this image shared by ultraclay!. In this shot, captured in Rockefeller Center in New York City, the presence of the ice rink makes it clear that the shot was taken in a colder time of year; however, the skater isn’t bundled up like you would imagine she would be in the dead of winter. In addition, I love the movement of her hand that was captured, as well as her placement to the left-of-center. Really great work.


4. Comfort food.

Finally (and you had to know this was coming), I love the concept of doing some food photography to capture the mood of the season. Summer might be all about cooling beverages and crisp salads, but as the temperature starts to drop, it starts to be all about comfort food, baby. So why not capture the mood that comfort food tends to bring to the season? For example:

Doesn’t this crepe look delicious? Styggiti shot this image while in Brittany, France, and claims it was easily the best crepe he’d ever had. And there’s just something about the soft lighting, the grilled vegetables, and that fantastic fried egg in the middle that just totally screams comfort food. This meal is definitely not one meant to be enjoyed in the heat of the summer — this is a meal that’s all about taking the chill off.

And finally, how about this shot:

To me, this shot screams autumn: the night is cool enough for a bonfire, and the sausages on the stick are all about that wonderful, hearty smoke-filled comfort food that is just perfect as the year is starting to wane. This looks to me like the perfect late summer/early autumn night. Thanks for sharing this, sgoralnick.

Hopefully, the above images will inspire to hang on to your camera as the seasons change, and keep clicking away to capture the new mood. As always, if you have any questions or suggestions, you can always contact me directly at karenDOTwalrondATweblogsincDOTcom – and I’m happy to address them in upcoming Through the Gadling Lens posts.

Karen is a writer and photographer in Houston, Texas. You can see more of her work at her site, Chookooloonks.
Through the Gadling Lens can be found every Thursday right here, at 11 a.m. To read more Through the Gadling Lens, click here.

Hiking Hadrian’s Wall–the practicalities

by Sean McLachlan on

If this series on the Hadrian’s Wall Path has sparked your interest, why not walk it yourself? It’s one of the more interesting and less challenging of the UK’s fifteen National Trails.

The total length of the trail is 84 miles. It is well signposted and difficult to get lost. Furthermore, there are plenty of camp grounds, hotels, and Bed and Breakfasts along the way. The scenery is attractive and varied but not rugged. If you want something really challenging, Wales or the Scottish Highlands will be more your style. The Hadrian’s Wall Path is more of a fun ramble through lots of history, with the added bonus of being able to boast that you walked across England.

The first question you have to ask yourself is whether to go westwards or eastwards. I decided to go from east to west because I wanted to leave Newcastle behind me and, with the brief exception of Carlisle, walk through rural areas. Ending a hike in a major city didn’t sound inviting. Plus the fort and museum at Segedunum give a good overview of the Wall’s history. Most guidebooks are written with this direction in mind, including the Hadrian’s Wall Path by Anthony Burton, published by National Trail Guides. This is the one I used. The main disadvantage of going this route is that the prevailing weather is from the southwest so you’ll have the wind and rain in your face. The National Trail Guide uses detailed Ordnance Survey maps that show not only the trail, but lots of other interesting historical and natural features along the way. If you decide to go for another guide, I recommend buying an Ordnance Survey map too.

I did my hike in the third week of August. The path was fairly busy but I had no problem making reservations at hotels and B&Bs just two weeks in advance. The summer is the best time to go in terms of weather and long days, but if you want to avoid people you might want to go in early September when the students are back in school. Spring and autumn could both be fun, but avoid the Path in winter. Many parts are very exposed and walking on the Path at this time can lead to erosion due to muddy conditions.

Accommodation is plentiful. A good place to start is Hadrian’s Wall Country. Their listings are a bit out of date, however, so you’ll need to call the places and doublecheck everything. National Trails publishes a pamphlet called Where to Stay for Walkers, available at Tourist Information Centers in Newcastle, Carlisle, and other local spots. Many of the campgrounds are actually in barns and offer amenities such as showers and a cooked breakfast. If you arrange it right, you can skip carrying a tent altogether and just bring a sleeping bag. There are also a variety of hotels and B&Bs. I only looked at the ones that I specifically mentioned in my posts. Only the Barrasford Arms was anything approaching luxurious. The others provide clean, decent accommodation and a hot cooked breakfast, which is all you really need anyway. There are also several youth hostels along the way if you don’t mind sharing a room with strangers.

Other than camping supplies for those who wish to do so, here are a few essentials:

  • A good set of waterproofs, including pants, coat, and hood. You’ll need them.
  • A sturdy pair of hiking boots.
  • A variety of clothing for cool and hot weather. I walked in everything from long pants and a sweater to shorts and a t-shirt. The weather can change quickly.
  • Sunscreen (the British sun can be surprisingly strong in summer).
  • The usual safety gear like blister treatment, first aid supplies, whistle, etc. While you aren’t hiking to the Mountains of the Moon, you do want to be prepared.
  • Snacks and water. You’ll find plenty of places to buy nibbles along the way except when going over the crags. There it gets a bit remote. It’s best to be prepared on all part of the Path.
  • Sneakers. These are optional, but make walking much more comfortable on the first day when pounding along the pavement through Newcastle.

One final note: don’t expect to get a signal on your mobile phone along much of the route.

How long the Path takes depends on you. I took six days averaging 14 miles a day. I’m no star athlete, but I’m a reasonably fit, regular walker and I was carrying a thirty-pound pack. I had no trouble with that pace. I saw most things along the way but an extra day or two would have given me a chance to make some interesting detours and explore more of Carlisle. Shorter days are certainly possible considering there’s accommodation at regular intervals along the way. You can also do it more quickly. One pub owner told me of a guy who did it in 24 hours. I guess that gave him something to brag about, but he couldn’t have seen much.

The thing that makes this hike unique, the Wall itself, means that extra caution must be taken while walking. Please do not climb on the wall or remove stones. There’s one short section at Housesteads where they’ve reinforced it enough that you’re allowed to walk on top, but please only do that there. Also, stick to the official route. There are a lot of sensitive archaeological remains and areas of wildlife on either side, so it’s important to keep this in mind. Also follow the Countryside Code, which is mostly common sense but a good thing to reread every now and then.

The Path often cuts through private land. While you are allowed to walk there, please stick to the trail, don’t alarm the livestock, and close gates behind you.

Enjoy your hike, and when you’re done, share your experiences in the comments section!

You can read the entire series here.

Hadrian’s Wall Day Six: reaching the coast

by Sean McLachlan on




It’s the last day of my hike and I wake up excited. I have only fifteen miles to go to finish walking across the country! Sure, I’ve been going along one of the narrowest parts of England, but it still feels good. I’ll be staying at the same hotel in Carlisle, the Brooklyn House, again tonight, and that means I can finish up my hike with only a day pack.

Back in Roman times Carlisle was called Luguvallium. It started as a wooden fort that soon attracted a civilian community. When it grew in importance the fort and town grew as well. As I make my way through the streets towards to Path I see Carlisle is fairly diverse, with many Indians, Pakistanis, and a few Arabs. It was diverse in Roman times too. The legions came from all over the Empire and members of various local tribes settled here to trade with them. There’s even a report that when the Emperor Septimius Severus visited in 208 AD during his campaign against the Picts he met an “Ethiopian” legionnaire here, the Roman term for a black African. The Roman Empire never controlled any parts of Africa south of the Sahara, but people from well beyond its borders immigrated to seek their fortune.

Walking out of Carlisle takes much less time than walking out of Newcastle did. Soon I’m strolling along the south bank of the River Eden as it wends its way through forest towards the Solway Firth. A few traces of the Vallum are all that show me that I’m still following the Wall. Although the Path is well marked, it would be nice if there were more informational signs. I would have liked a sign telling me, “This is the last bit of Wall above ground, so take a photo.” Yesterday I passed a stretch of the Wall that my guidebook tells me has Roman graffiti and the engraving of a penis, put there to ward off evil spirits. There was no sign to mark the spot, and not only did I miss the penis, I even forgot to look for it. I guess that sort of thing happens to a man when he reaches 40.

Now the Path strikes out away from the river and I’m walking across farms again. I hop over a stile into a field and up a low rise. When I get to the top the rest of the field comes into view and I stop short. A large herd of cows and their calves are standing not twenty yards away. It’s calving season and cows get very defensive of their young at this time of year. The biggest one starts bawling with a noise sound like a mixture of a moo and a roar. I back away as the cows line up between me and the calves. Earlier this year a hiker was killed by cows, and former cabinet minister David Blunkett was injured in a separate incident and suffered a broken rib. More of the herd start mooing angrily and cows from other parts of the field start converging on me. I knew I shouldn’t have touched that cursing stone back in Carlisle. Now I’m going to get trampled. My friends will remember me not for the son I raised, or the books I wrote, or the countries I visited, but as the guy who got killed by cows.

%Gallery-72023%I move quickly but calmly away, which is the best thing to do with an angry animal that isn’t actually attacking. They hold their ground, still braying, and the rest of the herd joins them to make a long line facing me. I make a detour around the edge of the field to get to the other side. Even though I’m a couple of hundred yards away now they turn their line to face me as I go around. If they make a move I’ll hop over the fence and damn the barbed wire.

I finally make it to the other stile and climb over with a sense of relief. Hanging there is a sign saying, “COWS WITH CALVES. ENTER WITH CAUTION” Thanks. It might have been nice to have that sign on both entrances. I continue on, feeling cocky. I’ve looked death in the face and survived. I’m going to eat hamburger tonight. Just then a drop of water splots on my head, followed by another, and then half a dozen more. I yank my raincoat out of my pack as the whole sky opens up. A heavy rain drums against my hood with a punishing force. That damn cursing stone is after me again. I pull on some waterproof leggings and continue on.

The rain is cutting down visibility, but as I crest a high hill I can dimly see the hills of Scotland beyond the River Eden to the north. Soon I come to the village of Burgh by Sands on the site of the Roman fort of Aballava. There’s not much to be seen of Aballava now except for the 12th century church, which, like so many buildings in this part of the country, is made of Roman stone. The church is small and plain and provides welcome shelter from the incessant rain. Set into the wall to the left of the altar is an old stone face of some pagan god, a round smiling fellow with a Celtic-style drooping moustache. Why the builders would put such a thing in their church is a mystery.

A more practical addition was the 14th century tower, which doubled as a pele tower to protect the parishioners from Scottish raids. It was erected after the death of Edward I, who despite his nickname “Hammer of the Scots” never defeated his northern enemies and died of dysentery while camped at a marsh not far from here while waiting to cross Solway Firth for another invasion.

I need to pass through that marsh now. The tide from Solway Firth comes in quickly and I have to time my crossing carefully to either three hours before or one-and-a-half hours after high tide. As I make my way along a narrow two-lane road I see a big red sign saying “ROAD CLOSED”. A tidal calendar tells me it’s almost two hours after high tide, but with the heavy rain and strong easterly wind I hesitate. Drowning a few miles from my goal wouldn’t be as embarrassing as getting trampled by cows, but the result is the same.

I decide to chance it. It’s five miles along the marsh to Drumburgh, where the land rises again and I’ll be safe. A couple of high spots along the way can provide refuge in case of trouble, and there’s an old sea barrier by the Path I can retreat to at any time. Unless the rain causes some record flooding, I should be OK.

I walk quickly, the rain getting stronger as a clammy wind comes off the Solway Firth and over the marsh. A variety of waterfowl peck at the tall grass, but I’m not about to go squishing over the marsh to get photos for the folks back home. I keep casting nervous glances at the waterline. This doesn’t help, because the waterline varies. At points it’s far in the distance; at other times it’s almost to the Path. I can’t tell if it’s going in or out. A few cars go whooshing along the road nearby despite the signs at regular intervals saying it’s closed. This gives me some confidence. If the locals feel the road is safe, it probably is.

After a grinding five miles during which the inside of my waterproofs turn into a humid jungle, I make it to Drumburgh and its local castle. It’s a fortified house really, with thick stone walls and high windows. The stout front door is set onto the wall of the upper floor. There’s a stairway to it, but in the days of the Border Reivers there would have been a crude drawbridge that could have been pulled away to make the house inaccessible. Here I spot a last hurrah from Hadrian’s Wall–a Roman altar used as a garden ornament.

I only have a couple of miles left to my final goal of Bowness-on-Solway. The rain keeps coming and the Path is abandoned. I squish along wondering what it must be like to live in such a spot. Solway Firth is beautiful despite the wretched weather, a sweeping vista of gray water with the green hills of Scotland to the north. The flat marshland with its innumerable rivulets and marshgrass has its own subtle beauty.

Squish squish. Squish squish. This is hardly a glorious last two miles to my hike. I pass through a bit of forest and some weathered stone farmhouses covered in yellow and green lichen until the sigh
t of a sign stops me short.

BOWNESS-ON-SOLWAY

This is it. At this spot was the Roman fort of Maia, the western end of Hadrian’s Wall. A short stroll up a little lane past stout stone buildings and an inviting pub and I see the Path end at a little hut. A sign congratulates me for finishing. It’s stopped raining for the first time in hours and I stand looking out over Solway Firth as it widens out into the Irish Sea. There’s no-one about and all I hear is the distant cry of gulls and the soft breeze rustling through the marshgrass.In six days I’ve walked 84 miles across the borderlands of England and Scotland, once riven by warfare and now safe but for the occasional herd of cows. I feel a bit sad it’s all over but I know I’ll be doing another long hike in England or Scotland next year. How couldn’t I?

You can read the entire series here.

Next: Hiking Hadrian’s Wall–The Practicalities