Eyeless cockroaches – Cueva del Viento, Tenerife
Once you’ve been told the cave, or volcanic tube to be more exact, was once home to eyeless cockroaches and giant rats it’s hard to banish thoughts of mutant creepy crawlies from your mind. It’s especially difficult when you can see webs which show that insects of some sort still inhabit the Cueva del Viento on Tenerife. Stretching 18km, it’s one of the longest of its type in the world. A guided tour makes it feel more comfortable and the beasties are now extinct… or so scientists believe. There’s still a lot of cave to be explored, so who knows what really lies in its darkest depths. At one point visitors are asked to switch off head torches – the blackness which falls is as complete as you can imagine. Nothing exists, nothing. I became only what lay inside my head… and then my stomach rumbled loudly and all philosophic pondering was stopped rudely in its tracks.

A mythical creature – Cyclop’s Cave, Crete
Google ‘Polyphemus Cave’ and a few different locations come up. I’m discounting the one in Alexandroupoli as fake as those who have visited it describe it as a den. The one we scrabbled our way up a hillside to above Sougia in western Crete was the size of a small cathedral inside. Neither did it have hordes of tourist scouring about looking, as I did, for human bones which had been picked dry by a hungry, one-eyed giant. It’s not easy to get to if you’re not reasonably fit. It’s also ideally placed for flinging rocks at an escaping ship as described in Homer’s Odyssey. And, unlike another Cyclop’s Cave in Sicily, a giant could easily roll a boulder across the entrance to trap ‘dinner’ inside. But the entrance is a problem. A Cyclops may be able to stand tall and proud once inside, but there’s no way he could squeeze his bulk through the small entrance which makes the cave hard to find. Maybe there’d been a rockfall or two since Odysseus made his escape clinging to the underside of a sheep.

Bats – Phra Nang Nai Cave, Krabi Thailand
Phra Nang Nai Cave in Krabi looks as though it’s been tarted up so it’s all bright, shiny and tourist friendly. When we made the attempt to walk the fifteen minutes or so it was supposed to take from its inland entrance to the beach things were very different. There were no lights, no entrance fee, no other tourists and we had no torch. But there was a wooden walkway, visible in the faint light from the entrance. After a few minutes on the rickety walkway we were engulfed by a black hole, the way forward an impenetrable inky curtain. It would have been silent apart from intermittent odd noises in the darkness, sometimes alarmingly close, at other times a flutter in the distance. With each ginger step the noises grew in intensity until our nerve broke and we turned and bolted for the entrance pursued by a dense, erratic cloud – the resident colony of bats.

A ghost – Ajuy, Fuerteventura
What could be scary about a sea cave visited by bus loads of excursionists daily? Ajuy Caves on Fuerteventura is hardly a hidden natural oddity. But the steep access reduces the number of people who actually explore these enormous caves. Plus, the second cave takes a bit of agile scrambling to get to, cutting numbers even further. It is here, in the damp murky interior where a smaller cave leads deeper into the rock, the atmosphere morphs from an interesting natural attracting to something more unnerving. A strange aura hangs in the air, the sea (maybe, maybe it isn’t) sounds like the whisper of the corsairs and pirates who were said to have carried out their illicit trade in the caves. Maybe an overactive imagination caused my spine to go all shiver me timbers. All I know is there’s a Ghostbuster-esque slimer on the photos I took in there.

Ice sculptures – Dachstein, Austria
With names like Castle of the Holy Grail and King Arthur’s Dome, the Dachstein Ice Cave in Saltzkammergut could easily have fallen into the overly sanitised, theme cave category. But it doesn’t. For a start, maybe stating the obvious given what makes it an attraction, it’s cold, -2C. Even warmer water which makes it way into the cave in summer months can only make minor adjustments to the naturally forming gigantic blue ice sculptures before it too becomes part of the exhibit. It is an enchanting cave with a hard edge, the sort of place where Game of Thrones’ Night King would throw a party for his undead legions. As a bonus, the mountain which hosts it is full of other quirks – a mammoth cave, the five finger viewing platform… a shark.

Blind faith – somewhere in Sheffield
The first proper cave I entered was whilst on a works outward bound course in the Peak District. I can’t remember which cave, possibly because the experience erased it from my memory. Not that it was bad… not for me at least. One girl had to be carted out of the cave after suffering a serious anxiety attack. To be fair, it was intense; that was the point. Two memories remain deeply etched into my brain. The first involved crawling through a gap where the roof of the cave was only a few inches above my back and my hard-hatted head kept scraping the rock. I couldn’t shake the thought if the earth shifted even slightly, we’d be trapped underground. The second involved using a rope to descend into a black abyss, so black it was impossible to see the bottom. When it was my turn I lowered myself backwards, feet edging backwards down the rock face until a voice from the darkness instructed me to stop, lower my feet from the rock and then to let go even though I couldn’t see terra firma below. It required total trust. I did what was instructed and fell… about three inches before my feet made contact with the ground. It was quite bizarre, and immensely liberating.

What do you find when you venture into the deep, dark depths of caves?

You never know until you take the plunge and delve into the blackness.

Hopefully most of the time this will involve the sort of uneventful travel experience which is flushed from your memory as soon as it is over.

But the more you travel, the more the law of averages pulls the scales towards the likelihood of having a travel toilet nightmare.

Saying that, not all unusual travel bathroom experiences leave an unpleasant stain on the memory.

Scariest toilet experience – Sri Lanka
It seems obvious but downing a couple of big bottles of Lion beer over lunch before heading into a rural part of Sri Lanka’s hinterland was a recipe for a protesting bladder. Why I chose a tiny workers’ shed beside a river instead of just ‘going’ behind a tree I don’t know, but I did and a long, happy sigh of relief was cut short when I felt something big land on my shoulder, then something else. Before I knew it the insect cast from Indian Jones and the Temple of Doom – big spiders, huge centipedes – were dropping from the ceiling onto my back and shoulders as it gradually dawned on me the toilet wasn’t actually black porcelain, it was covered in creepy crawlies. The memory still makes me shudder.

Hi-Tech toilets – Singapore
The first time I encountered a self-flush toilet was in a bar beside the river in the financial district of Singapore. The oppressive heat had us downing icy jugs of Tiger beer far too quickly before they turned tepid. This in turn resulted in a bit of a maelstrom in my guts. It was a smart, clean bar with immaculate loos, so no hardship… until I dropped my wallet on the floor and bent even further forward to retrieve it. Which is when I discovered it was a toilet with a laser which, when the beam was broken, automatically flushed… powerfully. It was a sobering moment.

Sexiest WC on Earth – Lisbon
For once there was no urgent need to enter this toilet on Terreiro do Paço in Lisbon, but when a loo proclaims itself the ‘sexiest WC on Earth’ you have to take a pee-k. It was nicely designed, with a vibrant colour scheme and lots of bathroom eroticism adorning the walls, but sexy? I think most people might pooh-pooh that claim. Read our ‘Ten alternative things to do in Lisbon’ for more unusual suggestions of things to do and see in the city.

Most confusing convenience – Mumbai
During a meal in a restaurant on the top floor of a hotel in Mumbai I had to visit the men’s room between courses. When I returned the table had gone, completely disappeared. It simply wasn’t where it had been when I’d left it. Moving tables isn’t one of the things you think about when eating in a revolving restaurant for the first time. It took me five minutes to track down its new location.

Paying for the convenience – Beijing
It’s not uncommon to have to pay to use public toilets, but signs at the entrance to the ones at the entrance to the Forbidden City intrigued and amused. There were different prices depending on what the purpose of your visit was. This fascinated me. I wanted to ask if a cleaner went in afterwards/during to check people were being honest and not trying to sneak a number two for the price of a number one.

Historic attraction – Rothesay, Bute
People visit the Victorian toilets on the pier at my home town of Rothesay on the Isle of Bute whether they need to spend a penny (actually thirty pence the last time I was there) or not. These gorgeous enamelled toilets are a masterpiece of pissoir art from the 19th century and one of the few loos where the sight of someone lurking around with a camera wouldn’t result in a swift call to the local police.

Pissoir or art? – London
With some modern urban pissoirs it isn’t always obvious they’ve been designed for the purpose for which they exist. Such was the case one murky Sunday night near the Embankment in London. Whilst Andy was at a plush British Guild of Travel Writer’s dinner at the Savoy, I stood cross-legged desperately trying to decide if the cylindrical concrete block with curved man-sized niches cut into was indeed a pissoir or a work of modern art. I still don’t know for sure, but it reached a point where I didn’t care.

Most bizarre toilet – Costa Adeje, Tenerife
In recent years toilet designers have loosened up and are now having some fun with public conveniences, especially urinals. I like the one where photographs of women mock those using the urinals. In Munich Airport some urinals have a little golf flag in the bowl, to encourage better aim. Ones which were visually stunning, but also quite disturbing were in a bar called the Faro Chill Art in Costa Adeje, Tenerife where metal urinals were sculpted into the shape of nude women.

Intriguing bowls – Bad Reichenhall, Bavaria
I didn’t like to ponder too much about the toilet bowls in the cable car station at Bad Reichenhall in Bavaria. It’s Germany’s oldest cable car and I suspect the toilets date from the same time. What’s odd about them, to me anyway, is there’s a flat shelf in the bowl, right in the target zone area. The process doesn’t bear thinking about. But I’m intrigued as to why? It wasn’t really the sort of thing I could ask a Bavarian stranger.

Worst ever experience – Kandy, Sri Lanka
To round things up, it’s back to Sri Lanka. In the Royal Botanical Gardens near Kandy in the middle of a monsoon downpour, as we sheltered under a baobab, my stomach turned mutinous in the most violent fashion and I had to make a run for it on a desperate mission to find a loo. A sign for ‘welfare café’ seemed promising. It turned out to really be a welfare café where servers passed bowls of gruel through an iron grill to a sorry collection of souls. I shouted “toilet?” and one pointed to the rear where there was a lone corrugated-iron shed. My savour. In true thriller film fashion I made it with barely a second to spare. Only then did I realise there was no paper, no means for washing… nothing except the hole in the ground. All I had in the pockets of my snow-white shorts was a wad of rupees. It was the most expensive toilet visit I’ve had to this day.

I still wonder now what the next person who used that loo must have thought. I can imagine him/her saying to friends and family: “You want to know just how rich Europeans are?”

Jack is co-editor, writer and photographer for BuzzTrips and the Real Tenerife series of travel websites as well as a contributor to online travel sites and travel magazines. Follow Jack on Google+

There’s no arguing the likes of Tenerife and neighbours Gran Canaria, Fuerteventura and Lanzarote are all decidedly on the beaten track destinations. But here’s the thing I’ve learned about people who stay ‘on the beaten track’. They don’t stray far from the well worn path at all… even in tourist hots spots.

Zoom in close on what that means and you find that even within any one resort in a popular holiday destination and people generally follow the same track as everyone else. We’re only animals in the end and many people find comfort in staying with the herd.

In the town we live there are the ‘main tourist drags’ – the route the majority of people follow to get from A to B. Take a step away from the crowd and head up a side street to walk along any of the streets running parallel to the main drag and it’s a different scene altogether, often it’s where the more interesting places are to be found.

It’s no different in popular beauty spots. The most visited location on Tenerife is Mount Teide. Thousands of excursionists, independent travellers and locals descend on Teide National Park every day. Most of them stick to the same routine. They stop at the Teleferico cable car to get as close to the summit of Mount Teide as possible without actually having to put a lot of effort into walking, and stray a few steps from coach/car to the viewpoint at the Roques de Garcia.

These are the sort of places which are dismissed by people who crave going off the beaten track. Yet anyone who avoids popular tourist attractions is overlooking one crucial piece of information. To go off the beaten track, even in a massively popular tourist destination, often all you have to do is walk a short distance away from the crowds.

Less than a minute’s walk along a dusty volcanic path and the masses are jettisoned. What’s more, the great bulk of the rest of Teide National Park is devoid of people.

It’s more or less the same everywhere.

It was bedlam where our coach deposited us at Great Wall of China, but after a 15 minute climb of a steep section of the wall, we were virtually alone. Generally people who are on excursions don’t stray far from their coaches.

It’s similar with popular cruise destinations. Dubrovnik is chaotic when the cruise passengers descend in their thousands. At least Dubrovnik old town is. The ‘main drag’ through the historic streets is a chaotic sea of people at peak times of the day. Dubrovnik outside the old town isn’t affected by this mass invasion. Even in the old town, the streets away from the established cruise route are often tranquil places to explore, especially if you time your visit to avoid the cruise invasion.

Carcassonne in Languedoc is another example. One of the most popular tourist attractions in France, the medieval citadel is an tourist magnet to the point we couldn’t wait to escape. But the old ‘new’ town which lies at the feet of the citadel is not without charm. It is, however, free of the coach excursionists who clog the arteries of the citadel.

Wandering through medinas/souks in places that are popular tourist destinations, such as Marrakech, can involve an incessant and exhausting assault of offers of ‘help’. Ducking into historic buildings like ancient palaces or old forts is to escape into a people-free oasis of calm.

Cinque Tierre on the Italian Riviera looks enchanting, but I have no desire to visit after seeing photos of lemmings in human form bloat the picturesque streets. And yet I’m sure the same thing applies there as in the places I’ve mentioned; move away from the established tourist and there will be a different scene.

Living on an island known for mass tourism has taught us it isn’t very difficult at all to escape the crowds.

Going off the beaten track in on the beaten track locations is also immensely satisfying. Popular mass tourism hot spots are the last places many people would look for unique travel experiences.

Jack is co-editor, writer and photographer for BuzzTrips and the Real Tenerife series of travel websites as well as a contributor to online travel sites and travel magazines. Follow Jack on Google+

That moment on Sigiriya was enough to cure me of my vertigo and it was so sudden and so effective that I don’t even recall getting back down the rock which is quite incredible, especially when you consider that, to those afflicted with vertigo, descending is far more frightening than ascending.

Until relatively recently, I never really thought about where my vertigo came from in the first place, assuming it was just one of those things that you either had, or didn’t have, a bit like being colour blind. But now I wonder if it was inherited.

It wasn’t until the last years of his life that I discovered my father suffered from vertigo. While I drove across the steep north west coast of Tenerife, my dad would sit in the back seat of the car wringing a large cotton handkerchief in his hands to absorb the flow of sweat. Given the severity of his fear, it’s remarkable that he managed to hide it so effectively from me and my brothers the whole time we were growing up.

But hiding the fact that you have a fear of heights is not something confined just to my dad.

Writing route directions, it’s fascinating to read the different ways customers find of describing paths that have caused them concerns due to the fact they have vertigo. Except that the word ‘vertigo’ is very rarely used. Instead, routes are described as ‘exposed’ or ‘airy’, ‘dangerously narrow’ or ‘unexpected’ and it’s always an issue with the route, never with the person walking it.

That reluctance to admit you have a problem when it comes to having a head for heights makes it tricky when it comes to deciding whether or not to describe a path as vertiginous. If we say that sections of a route may cause problems for vertigo sufferers, we face an inquest asking for photographs and more precise information so that he (it’s usually a he) can decide whether or not said route may be too ‘airy’ for comfort. If we say nothing, we risk customer feedback letting us know that they ‘feared for their lives’.

It’s also difficult to decide exactly what is vertiginous. Despite the fact that I was a sufferer, once it’s gone, it’s gone, and I can no more detect if a path may be vertiginous than someone who’s never experienced vertigo. I can say when a path has an exposed ridge or falls away steeply but that doesn’t necessarily make it vertiginous because this is an affliction that takes many forms.

For me, it was quite simple. If I could see that I was on the edge of a significant drop, my legs would buckle, unadulterated fear would lodge in my brain and throat, and I would freeze, unable to move forward or to retreat. Something as insignificant as a small wall between me and the edge would be enough to alleviate the fear, provided I could move far enough back, but an entire glass window was useless if it started from floor level, it might as well not be there. But for others, even having a solid wall to shoulder level between them and the drop is not enough to curb the fear. Some people cannot ride a cable car to save their lives, others, while perfectly happy to ride a roller coaster or take a ski lift up a mountain can’t get past the third rung on a ladder without breaking out in a sweat.

It’s said that the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, and there’s no doubt that’s also true in the case of vertigo sufferers. If your hands are clammy and tingling just looking at some of the images I’ve included here, there’s a good chance you’ve got vertigo so, whatever you do, don’t try climbing Sigirya.

Andrea (Andy) Montgomery is a freelance travel writer and co-owner of Buzz Trips and The Real Tenerife series of travel websites. Published in The Telegraph, The Independent, Wexas Traveller, Thomas Cook Travel Magazine, EasyJet Traveller Magazine. Co-author of Walk This Way Tenerife and The Real Tenerife. You can read her latest content on Google+

The World Travel Market Industry Report reflects a combination of two surveys; one involving 1036 British holidaymakers, the other involving 2050 professionals involved with the tourism industry.

This year’s report saw a rerun of some trends predicted in last year’s report. It’s also clear that some within the industry itself still haven’t quite got a handle on what is no longer the new kid on the blog, the influence of social media, or even the less traditional ways people now book their holidays i.e. peer-to-peer.

British Holiday Trends
There was a significant drop in the number of Brits who will have taken a holiday in 2015, 61% as opposed to 70% in 2014. However, industry insiders view this as a blip and expect the figure to increase in 2016.

Hot New Travel Destinations for 2016
The three ’emerging’ destinations highlighted for 2016 were China, Mexico and Iran. Interestingly two of the three (China and Iran) reflect the strengthening of diplomatic and business relationships with the United Kingdom. So the question might be, is there a real interest amongst potential holidaymakers or are we’re being subliminally, or otherwise, pointed towards certain destinations?

With China there’s a possibility of both. It is a country which fascinates and 50% of those polled expressed an interest in visiting, whereas with Iran it was 16% which meant 84% didn’t. It’s a figure which makes you wonder why it was included.

Mexico is a different matter altogether. It’s already the second most popular long haul destination for UK holidaymakers. A smart marketing strategy which included using the first Mexico City Grand Prix as well as its starring role in the latest Bond movie, SPECTRE, as marketing tools should keep it blipping away noisily on holidaymakers’ radar.

Responsible Tourism
An awareness of impact on the environment continues to stay high on the tourism agenda with more than 80% of industry professionals insisting the environment is important to their organisation and 60% of holidaymakers claiming to be environmentally aware when on holiday. What this means in reality is hazy, so it’s difficult to know whether this extends much beyond not dumping the towels in a heap in the shower every day.

Capping Tourist Numbers
What is becoming an increasingly important issue is the need to control the number of visitors to popular holiday destinations. Barcelona and Venice are already taking steps to try to limit the impact of too many tourists. Other cities should think about following suit as uncontrolled numbers  are having a negative impact on the experience of both visitors and locals. However, the compilers of the report got it wrong when they included the Canary Islands as a destination which was considering capping. It isn’t. This misinformation originally came from a misinterpreted interview with the Canary Islands’ new president.

What was interesting was panel members completely ignored one of the biggest sources of high tourist numbers flooding destinations – cruise ships (Dubrovnik take note). Instead they pointed the finger more at individual travellers. Hmm.

Sports Tourism
Like last year, sports tourism continues to be a draw with 84% of professionals polled believing hosting major tournaments has a positive impact on a destination.

New Travel Trends for 2016
The big news in 2016 is the predicted increase of no frills long haul flights. It’s already happening with some ‘budget’ routes already launched and more airlines expected to follow suit. Cheap fuel prices have contributed to this development but some believe it is financially unsustainable. Only time will tell.

The widespread availability of wifi when flying is looking more and more likely with 50% of passengers approving of being able to get online. Shouting into your mobile is less popular; only 20% want to see being able to make phone calls as standard on flights. I’m with the majority on this one.

Holiday Booking Trends
This is where the industry seems to remain a bit confused with potentially conflicting statistical results.

For example, peer-to-peer sites only account for 3% of bookings and travel industry experts say they have had little effect on the traditional travel industry. However, the likes of Airbnb have doubled bookings from 40 million room nights in 2014 to 80 million this year. Of those who have used peer to peer sites, 97% say they would do so again. I don’t blame them, we’re massive fans of Airbnb.

Tripadvisor remains highly influential whilst the impact of travel blogs remains unclear. Stats show only 8% of people use travel blogs as part of research. This aspect of the research hasn’t really developed in recent years and might reveal a lack of understanding on the part of researchers. The real question surrounds people’s ability to identify what is and what isn’t a travel blog. Many good travel firms now use blogs as part of their site and the difference between conventional travel writing and travel blogs is continually blurring. From conversations with some folk in the industry it’s obvious not all understand this evolution, so it’s unfair to expect people outside to get a handle on an aspect of the industry that is still relatively in its infancy. These factors make statistics unreliable and to be treated with caution.

Important Factors When Booking a Holiday
No surprises, affordability is top when it comes to final choice. In second place is the weather which is a key factor for 82%. You can implement all the smart marketing strategies you want, but if you’ve got a sunny clime you’re a winner in tourism terms.
A sad reflection on the state of the world today is the fear of terrorist threats is a factor for 61% of holidaymakers when it comes to booking a holiday.

Finally, Let’s Talk About Selfies
Selfies have been big news this year. Who’d have thought that holidaymakers taking pictures of themselves (haven’t we always done this?) would have the top bods in tourism pondering how to deal with the rise of digital narcissism? Only 40% of holidaymakers admit to posting selfies on social media (I’m not having it that 60% of holidaymakers don’t take piccies of themselves).
More interesting is 64% of the industry’s senior leaders (whoever they are) think selfies should be closely monitored (whatever that means) at tourist hotspots.

I guess in layman’s terms that’s a way of saying ‘don’t be a dick with your selfie stick.’

Jack is co-editor, writer and photographer for BuzzTrips and the Real Tenerife series of travel websites as well as a contributor to online travel sites and travel magazines. Follow Jack on Google+

On the table were four glasses filled with a whitish gooey substance; toddy – the local fire-water.

When a guide had told us that toddy wasn’t sold to foreigners as it could kill them, as it sometimes did the locals, we thought there might have been a bit of poetic license going on. But it did make us a wee bit nervous about actually drinking some of the stuff. The tiny amount of toddy in our glasses was diluted with Coca Cola; one of the few times I was glad to see an American import in places where the sight of instantly recognisable images such as Coca Cola’s or the golden arches just jarred.

The toddy was disgusting, but there were no ill effects. However, we know now that the guide hadn’t been exaggerating. Unfortunately fatalities from drinking toxic, cheap alcohol aren’t uncommon.

In most places drinking the local hooch isn’t akin to participating in an alcohol version of Russian roulette, but often it does result in involuntary gurning thanks to one factor which is common no matter where you are in the world.

It usually tastes disgusting.

Raki in Greece
Friends raved about wild times on the Greek Island of Crete fuelled by something called raki. Basically raki, apparently known as tsikoudia in other parts of Greece, is made from the bits left over during wine making (to me that sounds like the bits that should be thrown away). Our friends claimed they loved the drink, it clearly had a strong association with partying and good fun, and returned from the islands as would be Greeks bearing gifts – in this case raki.
It was retchingly disgusting. I’ve read that some raki makers infuse it with herbs, or add honey. There was no such sophistication here. It was the cheapest of the cheap and tasted like it. Away from dreamy olive groves and seductively lapping seas, the raki clearly lost some of its appeal for our friends and one of their prize bottles lived, untouched, under their kitchen sink for the following  decade.
The next time we visited Greece we gave the raki a miss and stuck to retsina and ouzo instead.

Feni in India
Why, in a  country where things are cheap, opt for the cheapest drink on the bar menu? You know what you’re going to get. Even though we were in a top hotel in Goa, a glass of feni cost only a few coins. We ordered a couple each as there were two varieties – cashew and palm.
One was nearly undrinkable (the palm) which made the second seem almost palatable. After two small glasses we were drunk (there might have been some mainstream alcohol taken leading up to the feni testing) and lurching on the border with hallucination land. We never touched the stuff again.

Grappa in Croatia
Actually, although it’s unlikely that I’ll knock back a glass of grappa and make satisfied ‘mmm’ noises, I grew to quite enjoy the post-meal shot in some Croatian restaurants, although I was a bit envious of the smoother, sweeter version that was sometimes given to female diners. My favourite grappas were at a makeshift grappa ‘experimentation lab’ (a shed and table in the garden of a konoba on Hvar) where the normally throat-stripping drink really did have some subtly seductive flavours.

And so it goes on: home-made schnapps from a still here, an eye-widening glass of something wicked with a vague hint of banana there.

All variations on a cheap alcohol theme, all of them with the potency to fuel rockets.

Unless you’re a local who’s developed immunity or you’ve an asbestos throat, you have to be loco to drink some of the concoctions that are offered when you travel.

So whilst we will continue to seek out the local culinary oddities, we’ll try to be more cautious when it comes to rough ‘n’ ready local hooch.

In truth what’s likely to happen is that when offered a glass of something uniquely local, we’ll look it for a second, as the good angel on the shoulder tries its hardest, before replying:

“Why not…”

Well, when in Rome… or even a clearing in a jungle somewhere.

Jack is co-editor, writer and photographer for BuzzTrips and the Real Tenerife series of travel websites as well as a contributor to online travel sites and travel magazines. Follow Jack on Google+

“That’s the trouble with you Manchester United fans,” the Irish dentist standing behind me scoffed. “You think everyone is interested in Manchester United. They’re not. This is the Yangtse. Nobody has heard of Manchester United here.”

The riverboat secured, we shuffled off the old boat single file, passing signs in Chinese that meant nothing to me. It was a dreich day. The river was mud brown in colour, the riverbank was actually mud, the sky didn’t seem much different in tone.

As we edged closer to terra firma a huge angled billboard came into view. I’d no idea what it was advertising, but I instantly recognised the face beaming down at us all – Ryan Giggs in his Manchester United strip. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect

Everybody leaving the boat spotted it. I didn’t need to say anything.

Behind me I heard the Irish dentist sigh.

Jack is co-editor, writer and photographer for BuzzTrips and the Real Tenerife series of travel websites as well as a contributor to online travel sites and travel magazines. Follow Jack on Google+

Eventually we reached our hotel in Habarana, a convenient inland base for exploring Sigiriya and Polonnaruwa on Sri Lanka. As we arrived, an elephant lumbered past the entrance carrying a roll of cane in its trunk. Once inside we watched a troop of monkeys use the roofs of low buildings as launch pads to reach the pool area where, we discovered over the next couple of days, they regularly made anarchic assaults; outwitting staff every time and leaving the place as though a typhoon had swept through – a typhoon made up of impish faces.

We were handed cool, damp cloths to wipe our faces as the receptionist checked us in. There were four of us. The other couple we hadn’t known until our paths crossed on the same journey a few days previously. Our rooms had been booked but not allocated.

The smiling receptionist held out her hand to reveal two keys. On one, the room number was inscribed on a decorated golden tab. On the other it was etched into a plain block of wood.

One of our travelling companions (the man) immediately reached out and grasped the golden key, leaving us with the wooden one. It made no difference to us, the rooms would be more or less the same. However, we were amused at the speed in which he grabbed the golden key.

As it happened, the rooms weren’t the same at all.

Ours was a delectable, detached mini villa with its own little leafy terrace area, whereas our companions had grabbed themselves an ordinary room in a small block which housed a couple of other rooms.

All that glistens is not gold.

I’ve often wondered if it was a deliberate test on the part of the receptionist. I’ll never know, but in a country where Buddhism is the main religion, it seemed a wonderfully appropriate little morality tale.

Jack is co-editor, writer and photographer for BuzzTrips and the Real Tenerife series of travel websites as well as a contributor to online travel sites and travel magazines. Follow Jack on Google+