Who works harder? Aussies or Americans? What does this mean for tourism?

by Jamie Rhein on

In this article in the Sydney Morning Herald, Australians are touted as working the hardest out of people in the developed world.

Here are the statistics given to prove the point. In Australia:

  • Almost 60% of the people with full-time jobs don’t take all of their four-week vacation time.
  • Years of this practice have many people with 8 weeks of unused time.
  • Corporate men ages 35-49 with kids under 12 are the biggest culprits of this practice.

I find the statistics interesting since I don’t know many jobs in the U.S. where people have a starting vacation time of more than two weeks. Many begin a job with less than that. Many folks don’t even get a paid vacation. In order for people to have acquired eight weeks of unused time in the U.S., they would have had to have not taken ANY vacation for at least four years if they are the ones with the two-week time frame. In a Gadling post in 2007, Willy pointed out the U.S. statistics which don’t bode well for those looking for R&R on a beach somewhere.

However, given that if the Australian statistics are indeed correct, and who really cares anyway, the larger point that the article makes is important indeed. Unused vacation time means unspent tourist dollars. In today’s economy, tourism could be a big economic boost to many parts of both countries–Australia and the U.S.

In Australia, the not taken time equates to $31 billion in holiday pay. Yowza! Hoping to tap into the dough, Tourism Australia has a program called “No Leave, No Life,” in order to get the business community to buy into the idea of the importance of taking that vacation time.

I think the U.S. needs to tap into the idea of more vacation time, period. If people are given four weeks, they may take two at least.

As part of the campaign in Australia, and I’d bet the U.S., part of the TV and print ads need to address the issue of how important it is for dads to spend time with their children. AND show dads having fun doing it.

Anyone with kids who are bickering at home with each other and arguing about cleaning their rooms, or whining from the backseat, “How long before we get there?” may think that work is actually more relaxing than that family vacation.

A Canadian in Beijing: Peking Duck

by Ember Swift on

Well, my trip is rounding to a close and there have been several things on my “to do before I leave” list. Eating Peking Duck is not one of them, however, but here I am poised to write about it. No, I didn’t eat any. Yes, I watched it get eaten. I heard the exclamations. I partook in the pancake portion. It was fun.

Even vegetarians can eat at a Peking Duck restaurant, I found.

My sister and (nearly) brother-in-law came to Beijing to visit a few days ago. We have been going strong with activities since they arrived, many of which were on their “Beijing-in-four-days” wish list. Since I also had my list, there were several things to check off and we’re still chipping away at the items. One of their “must-dos” was to eat Peking Duck.

I am told this is a requirement of all non-vegetarian Beijing visitors. (And all the ducks in China thank the vegetarians for their graceful exemption!)

The experience was really interesting, however, and being a witness to an age-old tradition was worth the photos and the social joy. As a bit of a farewell dinner with some of my dearest friends here, it was also filled with a lot of laughter and stories. I was so happy to be able to introduce people from my China life to people from my Canada life. I couldn’t stop smiling.

We went to a very famous Peking Duck courtyard-style restaurant called Hua Jia Yi Yuan . It was gorgeous.

The front entrance was decadant and it opened into a long corridor into a lobby with a smiling hostess that greeted us in both English and Chinese. The main courtyard was open and full of lattice work and decorative beams painted in the traditional Chinese style. Everything was made to look classic and old but it was also filled with modern furniture and beautiful woodwork that was obviously new in its polished glory.

They led us upstairs to plush red velvet, cushioned chairs and a full dining area. In fact, the place was sprawling and appeared to be nearly full on this weekend night. Everyone looked happy, I noticed, and so I knew the food would be good. Faces were multinational, which is another good sign. Places filled with only non-Chinese faces have proven (in my opinion) to be overpriced and often lacking in taste. Places with both non-Chinese and Chinese customers tend to be excellent on all counts — not too pricey and tasty.

Both proved true. The whole meal cost us each about 65 kuai or approximately $10 Canadian.

We all sat and I offered introductions all around. The connections at the table were formed instantly and the stories, food and beer flowed effortlessly.

What a pleasure it is to watch people you know and love form clear lines with people you also know and love. I have found that my friends here are not always friends with each other. In other words, I have met several different people from different backgrounds and through different scenes while here in Beijing over these three months. Putting them together at a table is not something I’ve had much chance to do. Well, at least not when I could witness the results (my gigs have been collective experiences, but I’m always on stage and not able to see or hear how things go!) and so, I sat back and watched these wonderful people engage each other and just smiled.

I felt incredibly fortunate to know them all.

Soon the food arrived. It was definitely an experience in eating! Peking Duck comes with these thin round pancakes and several cold vegetables in small piles like cucumbers, radish, lettuce (etc) as well as two different sauces, a sweet and savory option. My sister’s finance had everyone laughing when he described his “duck roll-up” as a “Chinese Fajita。” My friend Traci laughed the hardest when she followed that up by explaining that every time her boyfriend eats her Mexican cooking, he describes fajitas as “Mexican Peking Duck.” (Her boyfriend is Chinese and she is American.) We all burst into more laughter. Perspective really does depend on where you’re standing, eh?! Both descriptions are right.

Basically, you put slices of the duck meat into the pancake along with the other ingredients of your choice and then you roll it up and eat it in your hands like a little sandwich pocket. I found it fascinating. I ate a vegetarian version of that as well as several other dishes that were ordered off the menu. I was not lacking in food!

By the time we were done eating and had talked ourselves into a dull roar, I looked around and noticed that we were the only table still occupied. It was about 10:30 at night and the place was deserted. I marvelled at how insular our table had felt for me to have not even noticed a single other table depart from a once packed dining room. It made me smile all the larger. The people I was with were absorbing, to say the least. It was a great night.

When we left, we posed for photos in the lobby and chatted for awhile about the “wall of fame” and the separate room off the corridor for the live fish to swim their final rounds of fish tanks before heading for the kitchen. This is very common in China where the restaurants want to give the customers a view of the freshness of their product. I silently reminded the fish that not everyone comes there to eat them and then turned to go.

We walked out to the sidewalk still chatting and laughing, seemingly not without energy for more stories and anecdotes about China and culture and the travelling bug. This halting goodbye outside became another ten minutes before we finally filed into different taxis and waved farewell.

Duck was apparently delicious. For me, the whole night was delicious. The company, the food, the atmosphere, the vibe. I felt filled with good fortune to have met such wonderful people here and to have such a wonderful family.

Life is full.

And so were our stomachs.

[Pictured from left to right: Stuart, Traci, Me, Rui, Temple (my sis) and Steve (her finance)]

A Canadian in Beijing: Hot Shots, Hot Pots & Distant Thoughts

by Ember Swift on

On Sunday night, I had the great pleasure of having dinner with my cousin. Well, actually, he’s the son of my Mother’s cousin and so I suppose that means that we’re second cousins, to be precise! He and his partner are on vacation and this was their last night in Beijing. We made plans for dinner and I solicited my friend Rui to come with me.

Remember when I fell in love with the moped? Well, motorcycles are even more fun. In fact, I’ll have to upgrade my love affair from moped to motorcycle, which further distances me from the relationship I have with my bicycle. She and I have had a talk and she knows that I can’t be tied down to one mode of transportation and so all is well in my original matrimony! Seriously, though, I always feel like a “hot shot” when I’m on the back of a motorcycle — like I’m right out of the Grease movies (especially Grease 2!) and I’m pretending to be Michelle Pfeiffer. Okay, so it’s a remnant of my childhood but it makes me smile!

Rui has a motorbike and I have to admit that I rarely refuse if he offers to drive me home or pick me up when the motorcycle is involved. (Of course there are also helmets on our heads, so don’t worry!) I wonder sometimes if he will start to feel used for his motorcycle but I’m careful to thank him and not the bike when I arrive at my destination. It’s actually conscious and so I suppose that’s the true definition of conscientious!!But, really, there’s something so incredible about the zipping through traffic like it’s a video game, the whipping wind in my hair and the heavy sound of the engine between my legs. Okay, I’ll stop there (on that note) but you get my point! Why has it taken me until China to realize that motorcycles are amazing!? Not quite sure.

We arrived at their hotel just a bit late (which is a wonder of wonders in Beijing where it’s easy to be extremely late at the best of times) and it was great to see them. Tim and Paulie looked refreshed and excited about their vacation and I felt for a moment like I was much closer to home than I am.

They decided they wanted some authentic Chinese food (despite the plethora of western restaurants surrounding their hotel) and so we agreed on a “hot pot” place. Rui called a friend and got a recommendation for a good restaurant that specializes in hot pots just about a ten-minute walk from the hotel. We set off down small alleys, around corners that only Rui knew and found ourselves on a wide street with large trees casting their evening shadows on our faces.

We walked slowly and talked while Rui pointed out local landmarks and we caught up on our lives. I would characterize our pace as a stroll and it felt good under my feet – a plush summer evening rolling out before me like a carpet.

The restaurant was quiet and brightly lit and had nothing in the way ambience except our smiles, but we settled in and they brought out the huge hot pot tower, the likes of which I have never seen before. It’s a copper structure with a coal fire glowing in its core and a small chimney extending up the centre with a cap on its top. This oven heats the water above which is divided into two sections, one with hot spices and one without. Throughout the meal, the “fuyuan” (wait staff) regularly fill up the trough with fresh boiling water so that it never boils all the way off.

They then brought our large selection of vegetables and tofu and stacks of beef and lamb for the meat eaters at the table, i.e. everyone except me. I have become quite a fan of “xiang gu” or “fragrant mushrooms” and I was happy to see a huge plate of them arrive and before we knew it there were several different kinds of vegetables sizzling happily in the hot pot and my stomach was growling. They also brought us a sauce that was delicious. Not quite a peanut sauce and not quite a hot sauce but perfect. I wish I had the recipe!

I had already prepared myself for the likelihood that I would be sharing this hot pot water with meat. Being a vegan in Beijing has had its moments, as you know, and sometimes it takes some psyching up on my part to be able to accept what I believe to be inevitable. i.e. that I will be in a food situation that I can’t control and so I may have to quietly exit or simply accept that I’ll feel ill afterwards.

I filled up my side of the hot pot with vegetables and tofu while the water was still meat-free and cooked things all together and quickly, hoping my head start would mean that I wouldn’t detect the meaty aftertaste in the water after meat had been added.

I soon noticed that everyone was just eating vegetables, tofu and noodles. In fact, ten minutes later they still had not touched the meat and it dawned on me that they were waiting for me to eat enough before they started to cook their meat portions. When I realized what was happening, I was overwhelmed by their thoughtfulness and I said: “go ahead, it’s okay! I’ve had lots and I’ll be alright!” I was pretty full, to be honest, and I had a huge plate in front of me with my quickly cooked food that still needed to be eaten. I was also so touched by the gesture that I couldn’t possibly let them stall any longer. They hesitated and resisted a little, but then I convinced them to dig in. Soon all the food was being cooked and the conversation was flowing.

We agreed that it’s not “what is cooked” but “how it’s cooked” that makes all the difference. Being able to engage with your food while enjoying lively conversation is a total treat. I loved it! I would definitely get a “hot pot” again in this city. The experience was totally memorable, not to mention delicious.

Over two hours later, we left the restaurant having filled up on fantastic food and the exchange of ideas. We talked non-stop all evening and when we arrived at their hotel I was surprised at how quickly we had strolled back in the cool night air.

We posed for some shots in front of Rui’s bike (he’s taking the picture) and then said our goodbyes. There’s nothing like seeing family when you’re far away from home. It felt like a breath of Canadian air in my lungs. I could almost smell the clover and honeysuckle in the fields of Eastern Ontario.

I hopped on the back of the bike and waved goodbye as we sped away, feeling cool and hot at the same time and excited to be back again on my favourite mode of transport. I closed my eyes as we motored through the streets towards Wudaokou, letting the wind stroke my face with familiarity. I let the Beijing air get to know me that night. Maybe I could have more than one home in my future? Hhm. . . The thought lingers and seems less and less distant every day.

Cart a Kid

by Erik Olsen on

Let us salute for a moment human ingenuity. Who would have thought you could take two of the most intractable problems of travel, luggage and kids, and put them together into one nice, handy package? Take a brief look at the handy-dandy Ride-On Carry-On, a kind of bizarre rolling luggage cum kid’s chair that lets you get through airline terminals without having to fret about little Billy’s whereabouts. Why? Because Billy is nicely strapped right onto your luggage. Of course, you will have to remember NOT to check Billy as you would your other luggage. I understand the luggage holds can get quite cold in flight. But you have to admit it’s a rather interesting idea.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the Ride-On Carry-On was invented by a flight attendant who probably hand-checked many a stroller in her time and probably dealt with many a tired, screaming child. No doubt there is some satisfaction to be had from strapping the child to a suitcase. Anyway, aside from my own invention of the Baby Cone of Silence, this is one of the more intriguing kid travel products to come along in a while.

Kid Travel Help

by Erik Olsen on

Way back during April, April 1 to be exact, we posted about a fictional ,but much-needed device for airplanes called the Baby Cone of Silence .The idea is that babies (you know who you are!), while cute, and fun and adorable…are also head-achingly loud when they want to be.

Now, I know how hard it can be to travel with kids, so I have sympathy. And more than that, I am here to offer a link to advice on how you might make your next rip with the kids a bit easier on everyone. Now, after reading these, I have to say that they might work for some kids ,but not all. And by no means will they be effective for anyone under 2, so beware.

1) Have a discussion with your child and explain how to behave during the trip. Tell them what to expect and how important it is to act in accordance with the Geneva Convention (OK, I made that up.)

2) Take a moment to explain the various safety features of a plane or train pointing out oxygen masks and emergency exits.

3) Ask crew members is there are any special safety equipment or issues for children.

4) Has your child slept well? I hope so.

5) Don’t send your child alone to the bathroom (duh?!).

6) Don’t allow the child to spread his/her things around (i.e. Game Boys, Power rangers, dolls, small nuclear devices).

So there you have it. Lots of fun rules to help make travel with the kids so much easier.