Extract from Naked in Budapest: travels with a passionate nomad
‘Pssst! Want to change money? Opium? Marijuana?’ Women, standing on the steps of the 1901 building, mutter the offer from behind hands and I succumb to temptation.
‘How much?’ I ask and, with that sign of encouragement, I’m whisked into the hidden walkways of the market and negotiations start.
‘Eighteen.’ says the younger one and I laugh, aware that laughter is a good lubricant in Asia.
‘Twenty.’ I reply knowing it’s the rate she gave a young man just 10 minutes ago.
‘Nineteen,’ she tries again to which I give the same reply as before. Conceding, to what is a fair exchange rate she hands me a few rubber-band-held-bundles, each containing, I hope 10,000 kip. A quick flick through convinces me it’s all money and my first illegal transaction is complete.
It’s hard to believe that such huge bundles, casually dropped into my bag, are worth so little: all those zeros are still confusing me. I’m a kip millionaire yet the money is leaking out of my daypack. 3,500 kip to replace a small towel, 15,000 for a basic room, 14,000 for an Indian meal and for another 4,000 I can walk up a gigantic rock hill, Phousi, for a 360-degree view over Luang Prabang, (a UNESCO World Heritage Site) the Mekong River and surrounding mountains.
How to be an ethical traveller is simple and your ethical choices will make a difference to the people you meet
don’t slavishly follow a guidebook – when you do that you will just end up in crowded places. Do research on any sort of tour you are going on; are they a green company?do they invest back into the community
Learn something about the place you go to – respecting how they act is not the same as agreeing with it – be culturally sensitive, don’t make judgements, be willing to and of learn dress appropriately for where you are
buy from locals and eat street food,
stay in locally owned accommodation places – take shorter showers – hang up your towels for reuse. Don’t waste electricity
use local transport when possible – one person in the car is not eco-friendly so always share
dispose of your own rubbish correctly – you can even pick up someone else’s rubbish!
watch animals in the wild – don’t disturb them – keep your distance – don’t touch or feed them – don’t use flash photography – don’t pose for photos with captured animals – most of which have been beaten into submission
minimise your carbon footprint
carry your own water bottle and food container
travel is not a competition – we are not impressed with the number of countries you have visited
Here is an essay I wrote before about ethical travel:
Not everyone can travel. Living in New Zealand means we have a better chance than many. We have a far higher percentage rate of people with passports than, say, Americans, for example. There are also many countries in the world where people will never have a passport – and of course, poor countries are much more likely to be visited than to produce travellers.
I’m a travelophile. When I travel I feel good and being a traveller who writes means I get to visit where I want to go to and not need to go the flavour of the month so can be in places that are not on the tourist trail. I get to be a cultural tourist in that I stay longer in places and get to know people; absorb the local flavour.
This means that although I don’t often sign up for an eco-tour, I practise many of the principles of ecotourism. But what is ecotourism?
My understanding of the word and the concepts behind it are, very briefly, that’s it an activity that has the least impact while providing the greatest benefits.
Independent travellers are the ones most likely (but not always) be the closest to being real eco-travellers. They leave much of their travel money in the country – those who travel on tours often have paid for their whole trip before they leave home – giving very little to the country they are travelling in but adding huge costs to the locals – in water, sewerage, rubbish, roads.
Unfortunately, tourist money is often creamed the off a country in diving lessons given by Europeans who come in for the tourist season then leave, taking the money with them, or multinational hotels who don’t even pay tax in a country.
Because of the lack of a robust infrastructure, the rubbish – the very trash that travellers complain about – is bought to the island by them: water bottles are not refilled, plastic bags abound.
I’m reminded of Lake Louise in Banff, Canada, where I too was a body disgorged from a bus to see the great views. I have proof that I was there – a photo of me sitting with the lake and mountains as the backdrop – it looks idyllic. However, I know that alongside me, waiting for their turn to have the moment recorded, is another busload of chattering travellers.
The problems of being poured into the tourist funnel will continue if we rely on unimaginative travel agents (and of course not all are) and the forceful marketing of those who have invested in areas. While it is more economical for planes and hotels to have us arrive together and stay in the same places it also creates problems for them – not the least is the strong chance of killing the goose that lays the golden egg such as the warning in the child’s story.
This is not a new problem. Read books written years ago and the same complaints are made. Tell others you are going to Bali (or Timbuktu) and immediately you will be told “you should have gone there ten (2, 5, 50 years ago,) before it was discovered.”
Combining the universal codes of ‘pack it in pack it out’ and ‘take only photos, leave only footprints’ along with getting off the well-worn tourist trails means I’ll be able to enjoy my travels with a clearer conscience.
Independent solo traveller’s, or backpackers may be the closest to being real eco-travellers. They leave much of their travel money in the country– those who travel on tours often have paid for their whole trip before they leave home – giving very little to the country they are travelling in but adding huge costs – in water, sewerage, rubbish, roads.
Worldwide many places say they are providing an ecotourism experience but is that really so? It seems that as long as it has a natural part many claim it to be eco-friendly. That has not always been my experience.
Life on a marine reserve sounds wonderful right? A great eco experience? Yes, the natural sights ( and sites!) and walks are fantastic; money spent on food and accommodation does stay with the locals providing it. Unfortunately, the big money is creamed the off the islands in diving lessons given by Europeans who come in for the tourist season then leave, taking the money with them. Because of the lack of a robust infrastructure, the rubbish – that travellers complain about – is bought to the island by them: water bottles are not refilled, plastic bags abound.
We think of New Zealand – and market the country – as a clean green destination but pollution is not just rubbish on the ground. Have we (or travel agents) have sold the visitor a too narrow view of places to visit; given them a list of sites they’ must see’, activities they should take part in? This produces problems such as Milford Sound could have – buses arriving in droves, disgorging visitors (and fumes from the buses) to see wonderful pristine sights. An oxymoron? This of course is not only a New Zealand problem.
The slogan 100% pure New Zealand was created as an advertising slogan with no reference at all to being clean and green – what it was talking about in those early days was that we would give visitors a 100% New Zealand experience – so pure New Zealand, not a copy of other places.
Sadly, a generation or two later, that has been forgotten, and people often think it means we’re 100% clean and green.
It doesn’t, and we aren’t, but we’re working on it.
Please help us give you a one hundred percent pure Kiwi hospitality and please, please, use our toilets and rubbish containers – do not leave such stuff on the side of the road, or in our bush.
Budapest is home to two million people and transport choices are confusing so I’m pleased an English guy who is at the same home-stay has shown me the way here. ‘Will we find our way back without him?’ I wonder as I join the line of people at the ticket office. We’ve travelled from suburban Budapest to this castle-like building on the edge of the Danube: the journey – by bus, metro then trolleybus – baffled me.
Underground tunnels, where I lose all sense of direction, lead to the metro station where men and women were standing, almost silently, with their meagre goods for sale. Underwear, jackets, baby clothes, food, all held up to our gaze: only the eyes of the sellers asking us to buy. Their silence is daunting: their poverty makes me ashamed that yesterday I stole a train ride from this city, in a country that’s just emerged from a communist regime.
I was travelling by underground to a posh hotel for an all-you-can-eat afternoon tea when I didn’t buy a ticket – and was caught. Leaving the station two Aussies and I were approached by three or four inspectors. ‘Tickets’ they snap and we search our pockets for the non-existent items. I feel guilty, then intimidated, when they tell us we will have to pay an exorbitant fine. ‘We have no money on us,’ I lie.
‘I will call the police. You have to pay,’ said heavy number one. His dark-haired, surly partner joins in.
‘Give me your passports; I will see if our supervisor will let you pay less.’
‘I haven’t got my passport with me,’ wails one of the young women.
I don’t carry mine around either then suddenly memory warning-bells clang at the mention of passports and I recall being cautioned about such a fraud. ‘Be careful of bogus ticket inspectors,’ our bus driver had said, ‘they run scams to get money.’ My brain tells me that genuine inspectors would not be asking for passports.’ These guys are not for real, I’m not paying’ I say, ‘let’s go,’ and turn to walk off.
‘Stop! Stay here!’ shouts one of the heavies and grabs my wrist.
‘Take your fucking hand off me.’ With a quick flick that amazingly removes his grip, I walk towards the exit. An Aussie races past me, a moment later the other does the same while I continue in the same measured, but fearful pace – expecting the police or heavies to grab me at any second. Relieved to see my young friends waiting at the top of the stairs, I burst into hysterical laughter. ‘Boy, you two can run!’
‘Take your fucking hand off me,’ they mimic. ‘Wait until we tell the others what you said. No one will believe you’d talk like that.’
‘Well I know I’ll buy tickets in future. That was scary!’
Even I thought it seemed a little silly, when I replied ,’Because I like the name.’ Zimbabwe sounded exotic and I just wanted to go.
Now I’ve arrived in Africa and I’m ready for my big adventure: a canoe safari down the Zambesi River.
Standing on the banks of the calm looking river, I am beginning to get scared. Watching us is the biggest, meanest looking crocodile I have ever seen. Lying in the sun, he seems to be inspecting us. I watch him and he watches me as I listen to our guide’s safety instructions.
“Keep looking for hippos, usually you will just see their little ears sticking out of the water, and every few minutes I want to you give a little knock on the canoe so they can hear us coming. If you don’t and we frighten them they are likely to charge our canoes as they try to get into deeper water to hide.” he said.
I’m really getting scared now – last night I’d read that hippos kill more people in Africa than any other animal – but it’s too late to change my mind.
Our canoes are laden with tents, food and water: enough for four days. We paddle away from the security of the Mana Pools National Park – our destination, a wee village just before the Mozambique border.
We paddle down-stream and, once the crocodile is out of sight, the safari is as wonderful as I had imagined. The sun is warm and all around me I can see the sacred white ibis balancing on the back of cape buffalo, iridescent dragonflies hover about, I can hear noisy baboons, and the sky has many fish eagles, Goliath herons and beautiful white-fronted bee-eaters. Magic. Just like a storybook.
“Hippo!” The guide and I paddle as fast as we can. It is coming directly towards us. We just miss colliding with each other!
“Close your mouth. Danger’s over,” I tell myself. I have a swig of water to get some moisture back into my dry mouth.
“Whew that was close!’ Adrenaline is surging through my body. I try to breathe evenly and calm my heart. “That was a lessor spotted hippo” laughs Chobe our guide.
True, we had spotted it at the last possible moment and I’m not sure who was the most scared: hippo, guide or me! In seconds Chobe had changed from a laid back, softly spoken Zimbabwean, to a fast paddling man who was sure both he and I were about to be killed by a hippo. The front of the canoe almost rose in the air as we both paddled deeply and strongly.
Perhaps it is true the hippo was just scared but I’d like to know why a vegetarian has such big teeth and powerful jaws if it only eats grass.”
Read more in ‘Naked in Budapest: travels with a passionate nomad’ by Heather Hapeta. Available as an ebook on Amazon etc.
Last year I went to the Rain Forest World Music Festival in Kuching, Sarawak , Malaysian Borneo, for about the fourth time. My longtime friend, writer, and tour guide, Judy Shane, there for the first time, said ‘it was so amazing it is hard to put it in words.’
The next one is in three weeks – 13th – 15th July 2018 – so, for this years performers check out the official website
Mornings started with media briefings with a panel of artists and we were then left to explore the tribal villages, the musical workshops, and the schedule of performances. Add delicious local food and its a festival not to e missed. (Its a great stopover destination between the hemispheres too) But for me, Sarawak IS the destination.
The highlight for Judy was being part of this drum circle which I insisted she participated in – I had done so every other year and had a ball – so I just ignored her almost kicking and screaming, protesting she was ‘not musical’. She loved it! I believe it was her festival highlight .
As befitting a rainforest, two out of the three nights had a downpour and while some fans left, others danced and slipped in the mud. Next morning the international musicians commented on what a great sports the fans were and how they had never seen such enthusiastic dancing in the rain before.
We avoided the downpour by slipping into a van to go back to our room at Damai Beach Resort. While escaping into a van in the dark I had a young man sit on my knee – their drums and other instruments were taking up the rest of the van – He thought it was only fellow band members in the vehicle – I laughed, but the boy leapt out of the van with mortification – fancy sitting on an unknown Aunties knee.
This festival has thrived for two decades and is for all; young ,old, couples, families and people alone – it is the friendly festival.
Start as a child with a love of reading. For me this involved hiding under the blankets reading of far-away places that created a desire for travel: I was Anne Frank in her Amsterdam attic; and, I was Heidi on the mountains of Switzerland: I was the hero between the covers of every book!
Add listening to far away, static-crackling voices in languages I didn’t understand on my brother’s crystal radio, and dream of exploring those lives! An idea, the yeast of a dream, began bubbling below the surface of my conciseness. The first, most basic ingredients for my developing recipe are then lined up on the kitchen bench of my mind.
Cover and leave that bowl of imagination to infiltrate through life’s ups and downs, keep reading, keep dreaming until life and circumstances add more ingredients. These extra components are where your individuality, situation, and conditions, add to the recipe and finally, the result! (NOTE: Unlike many recipes, this one is totally tailored to your circumstances.)
My extra ingredients included: the deaths of my 20-year old son and my 35-yr old husband, recovery from alcoholism, and, after what seemed like too many birthdays, I still didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up.
Perhaps I could play catch-up with the traditional Kiwi penchant for travel. That germ of an idea, like all living things, divides and multiplies as it sits on the sometimes-messy kitchen bench of my mind.
Just some of my travel pics!
the author in Haridwar
Heather – the kiwiwtravelwriter
The kiwi travel writer enjoys Fiji cruising
Happy Thai new year
The kiwitravelwriter, arrives on Talang-Taland Island, Sarwawak, Malaysian Borneo. photo by Gustino from Sarawak Tourism Board, who hotested me)
Yes, that’s me up there!
My face needed this treatment!
Now, add more ingredients so you too can reinvent yourself – mine were:
Travel for a year
Make no plans or bookings, just travel
On returning, after a year, I added:
Two years work & saving
A short writing course
Have an article about canoeing down the Zambesi published
Sell more travel stories; add those dollars to my travel fund
This recipe is never finished yet you can cook it, eat it, and share it daily. The flavours and textures change frequently – depending if you have used the high heat of Thailand or the coolness of a northern hemisphere winter, and, of course, your choice of spices.
So, if you want to run away from home or reinvent yourself, pick your ingredients from the lists above, add your own, use your imagination, mix well, and as ‘they’ whoever they are, say, “the world’s your oyster.”
In India, architectural heritage is often linked to the major religions of the country: Buddhist stupas and monasteries; Hindu and Jain temples in many styles – many share structural characteristics such as stone columns and horizontal blocks carved with sacred imagery or decorative motifs sculptures of the vast pantheon of Hindu gods and goddesses are everywhere the various deities have many manifestations which becomes confusing as their names, like many Indian cities, are interchangeable.
Udaipur, Rajasthan, is a fairy-tale city with marble palaces and lakes – and I will blog about them later. In the meantime, here is a slideshow (23 pics) some of the local wildlife.
NOTE Seems the above UNEP link is broken or has been removed see this one instead about sustainable tourism
Waka play a big role in Waitangi
Chinese Nets – Keral
the author in Haridwar
looking for Manatee in Forida
Heather – the kiwiwtravelwriter
Tourism is one of the most powerful change agents on Earth and we consumers must vote with our wallets and support local people with local businesses.”
I blogged about this issue (first published in a newspaper column) some years ago and reprint it here. I’ve also written a small book on the same topicA Love Letter to Malaysian Borneo – and if you have read it I’d really value a review on Amazon or Goodreads. 🙂
Here’s that column I wrote . . .
What is an eco-tourist? Ecotourism?
Like Asians need rice, Italians love pasta, British their curry, and us Kiwi’s love fish and chips, I need to travel and being a traveller who writes means I get to visit where I want to go to rather than have to go the destination flavour of the month.
This means I’m often in places that are not on the tourist trail. As a slow traveller I can stay longer and get to know people, to absorb the local culture and flavour. This also means that although I don’t always sign up for an eco-tour, I practise many of the principles of ecotourism. But what is ecotourism – a word that’s often thrown around and frequently means nothing.
My understanding of the word and the concepts behind it are that’s it an activity that has minimum impact while providing maximum benefits to the locals.
I believe independent travellers are most likely to be the closest to being real eco travellers. They leave much of their travel money in the country while those who travel on tours often have paid for their whole trip before they leave home – giving very little to the country they are travelling in but adding huge costs – in water, sewerage, rubbish, roads.
Worldwide many places say they are providing an ecotourism experience but is that really so? It seems that as long as it has a nature component many claim it to be eco-friendly. That has not always been my experience.
Life on an Asian marine reserve sounds wonderful right? A great eco experience? Yes the natural sites and walks are fantastic; money spent on food and accommodation does stay with the locals providing it. Unfortunately, the big money is creamed the off the islands in diving lessons given by Europeans who come in for the tourist season then leave, taking the money with them. Because of the lack of a robust infrastructure, the rubbish – that travellers complain about – is bought to the island by them: water bottles are not refilled, plastic bags and straws are left on the beach.
Have travel agents sold us too narrow views of places to visit? Given us a list of sights we ‘must see’ or activities to take part in? This produces problems all over the world with buses arriving in droves, disgorging visitors and fumes to see wonderful pristine or historic sights.
It reminds me of Lake Louise in Banff, Canada, where I too was a body disgorged from a bus to see the great views. I have proof that I was there – a photo of me sitting alone with the lake and mountains as the backdrop – it looks idyllic. However I know that beside me, waiting for their turn to have the moment recorded, is another busload of chattering travellers.
The problems of being poured into these tourist funnels will continue if we rely on unimaginative travel agents (and of course not all are) and the forceful marketing of those who have invested in areas. While it is more economical for planes and hotels to have us arrive together and stay in the same places it also creates problems for them – not the least is the strong chance of killing the goose that lays the golden egg such as the warning in the child’s story.
This is not a new problem. Read books written years ago and the same complaints are made. Tell others you are going to Bali (or Timbuktu) and immediately you will be told “you should have gone there ten (2, 5, 50 years ago,) before it was discovered.”
So, what can we travellers do? I don’t know what you will do – what I do is travel slow, travel cheaply, and use local products when I can.
So, by combining the universal codes of pack it in packit out and take only photos, leave only footprints, along with getting off the well-worn tourist trails means I’m able to enjoy my travels with a clearer conscience.
The Kannur Beach House is a genuine homestay and owners Rosi and Nazir are your perfect homestay hosts: eating with their guests, at the communal long table, every morning and evening and willingly share their knowledge about local traditions, Malabari cuisine, and places to visit when they’re asked. As another guest said to me, ‘this is a little slice of heaven.’ I agree.
This has been a family home for about hundred years and around 2000 they built a replica building, alongside the original, to use for guests.
lagoon and sea
This is a must book beforehand stay as they have 6 rooms and many guests – who often have stayed with them before, and many like me, stay for a week or more – so, for much of the time they are full, which is of course a great endorsement. I will willingly return here to do all the things I missed out on – I was there for a week’s R&R over the Christmas period, so was happy to just, successfully, chill.
On the Malabar Coast in Kerala, and overlooking a brackish lagoon and Thalassery beach, this beach-house was perhaps the first in the region.
Kerala is a colourful mosaic of green hills, coconut groves, rainforests, , backwaters, and beaches. Interestingly, unlike much of India, most of the Hindu temples are not open to non-Hindu.
Watch this space for more stories about the Kannur Beach house, food, and of course, only in this area, Theyyam, a ritual dance glorifying the mother Goddess, and which is a mixture of dance, mime, and music.
Some people chase fire trucks, others follow typhoons to get the best photos, while war journalists or photographers, because of their job, are often in the most dangerous parts of the world, but what about tourists?
As soon as trouble breaks out (dengue fever, earthquake, tsunami, or civil unrest) it’s tourists, often with group travel arrangements, who cancel their bookings, while solo travellers, looking for the differences, the culture and the food of another place, who usually continue with their travel plans. Is it ethical to go to places who have had an earthquake or other disaster? What about places with chronic poverty?
Do you indulge in dark tourism? Defined as travelling to places historically associated with death, has been around for ages. Concentration camps in Europe; the killing fields in Cambodia; the site of the twin towers in New York; and Pompeii in Italy, just to name a few. I’ve been to many places that could be considered ‘dark’. The Anne Frank house in Amsterdam; the Colosseum in Rome; John Lennon’s garden in New York, the motel where Martin Luther King was assassinated. I’ve also been to the 1692 site of my ancestors’ notoriety, Glen Coe in Scotland.
Of course, more recently I’ve been a constant visitor to my home city, Christchurch New Zealand, where 80% of the inner-city was lost due to quake damage. (See more that I’ve about Christchurch – as it was two years ago 2016)
Black or dark tourism is nothing new but when it’s recent many people think it is insensitive to go – or for novelists to write about it, comedians to joke about it, or films to be made. I believe it depends on the traveller’s attitude – are they chasing fire trucks or cyclones?
Think of slum tours in India, do they help the locals or not? It’s all about ethical travel – are you taking from a place, or are you adding something? Are in locals involved? Did they set up the tours with community involvement, or is it someone making money out of another person’s misery or are they interested and supportive?
As a travel writer I am often conflicted about taking photos – sadly, poverty and misery often produce fantastic photos.
In Christchurch tourism dried up just as if tap was turned off and the water stopped flowing. I heard and read many articles and blogs and sadly, advice given by uniformed travel writers, tourist companies or information centres, advising people not to go, there is ‘nothing there’ or ‘you will only be in the way’. In the beginning I know locals thought some other locals did ‘get in the way’ of clean-up work and considered them ‘rubber-neckers’ by other locals who felt their privacy, and misery, were being invaded.
However, ethical travel may just another word for green travel which is about leaving money behind in a community so can dark tourism be ethical too?
Perhaps travel agents and guide books sell us too narrow a view of places to visit. Along with our tickets they, (and guide books, blogs or articles) often give us a list of sites we ‘must see’, activities ‘we must do’, or places we ‘must’ stay. It’s not for nothing the popular Lonely Planet books have been nicknamed the ‘travellers’ bible’ as many won’t eat, visit, stay or see anything or anywhere until the guide book is consulted. Sadly examples of unintended consequences can be the six accommodation places are mentioned are full – while three, not in the book, and maybe better, are empty.
This is not a new problem. Read books written years ago and the same complaints are made by travellers and owners – some places over booked others empty. Tell friends you are going to Bali or Timbuktu, Christchurch or Botswana and immediately you will be told that you should have gone there two, five, ten, fifty years ago, ‘before it was discovered’, or in Christchurch, New Zealand’s case, ‘before the earthquakes’.
So, what can we travellers do? Well, I don’t know what you will do, but what I do is travel slowly, travel cheaply, support local businesses and use their home-grown products whenever I can – and this is even more needed after a disaster whether it’s man-made or a so-called act of God.
I asked on Facebook for people’s opinion about disaster, or dark tourism. One person sent me a link to a blog she’d recently listened to and believe its well worth giving you the link too – BBC World Service: The Why Factor. In it the reporter visited Auschwitz and the site of the Grenfell Towers disastrous fire in London. I’ve not been to either – and chose while I was in Poland not to visit Auschwitz. If I was in London I would also not visit the Grenfell Towers – I don’t need to be at either site to know how appalling the events were. Others of course will disagree with me.
My father was a fireman in Christchurch New Zealand when they had the worst fire disaster in our history – Ballantynes, 1947. He was so distressed about attending the fire and having to recover bodies, that our family were forbidden to give the store any patronage – I have broken this rule two or maybe three times.
The Christchurch earthquakes 20101/11 have produced things that also could be considered dark tourism. The Memorial Gardens at the site of the highest number of deaths, a memorial wall on the banks of the River Avon, and a museum exhibition – which for me triggered the smells of dust that hung in the air – and up my nose – for ages.
The owner of Beadz Unlimited (one of the many shops damaged inside the Christchurch Art Centre – and now in the historic New Regent Street) posted on my Facebook page where I was asking about dark tourism said ‘actually we desperately needed people to come and put money into the community because we were all hunkered down just trying to survive. It was a necessary evil.’ She did not clarify what was ‘evil ‘.
In the UK there is an Institute for dark tourism research and they have studied many facets of this topic if you want to delve into it! Wikipedia says “Scholars in this interdisciplinary field have examined many aspects. Lennon and Foley expanded their original idea  in their first book, deploring that “tact and taste do not prevail over economic considerations” and that the “blame for transgressions cannot lie solely on the shoulders of the proprietors, but also upon those of the tourists, for without their demand there would be no need to supply”.
New Zealand heritage haswebsite and touring map for some war sites in the Waikato region and its hoping to eventually have one for all NZ land wars and other fighting – perhaps some will consider this ‘black tourism’ too
What are your thoughts. Do you believe you are an ethical traveller – and why? And, do you indulge in dark tourism? What black tourism spots have you been to – after all it seems we all do that at some level.
I’d really love to start a conversation about all this in the topics – so before you board your next flight, or bus or train, will you please join in and add your opinion ?