Where the devil have we been?

We apologise for our absence in this blog. The whole idea with this blog is to keep our customers, and others, updated with the work we are doing. We've been a bit undisciplined when it comes to writing.

This doesn't, however, mean we haven't been busy. Quite the opposite!

We've been teaching in Sweden and abroad, researching, studying and planning. We're very excited about 2013 and hope to keep you posted with what we're up to at Key.

So, where the devil have we been since we last updated this blog in spring 2012. Well, we've been rather busy and in rather a lot of places. This is of course an advantage for a company like Key that works with intercultural competency training.

Here goes, in alphabetical order, we have been in..

• Albania
• Austria
• Bosnia & Herzogovinia
• Bulgaria
• Croatia
• Cyprus
• Denmark
• England
• Finland
• Germany
• Hungary
• India
• Kosovo
• Macedonia
• Montenegro
• Scotland
• Serbia
• Slovenia
• Slovakia
• Turkey
• USA
• Wales

That's a lot of countries, a lot of influences and impressions, and a lot of intercultural communication!

We'd like to wish you a Reflective Christmas and a Developmental and Adventurous New Year!

From All at Key


 

Sport break and Smiles

It's not the easiest place to get to from Stockholm. In fact, it really is a case where it is all about the destination rather than the journey (contrary to that famous quote which states otherwise). Thanks to the Swedish school system providing a winter school break known as 'sportlov', we decided to brave the distance and take the meaning of the Swedish word literally. (direct translation - sports holiday)

We made it to Sun Valley after about 30 hours.  Seventy-five years ago this tiny Idaho village, nestled in the Saw Tooth mountains,  was built into a built ski resort that would rival the luxury resorts of  Europe and be almost as difficult for Americans to get to!  From the beginning, Sun Valley attracted the American elite, and while a private airport not far from town makes it a bit easier to each these days, the place seems never to feel crowded - even at it's busiest.

So what strikes me about Sun Valley?

It's not just that it lives up to its name, with 80 percent sunny days during ski season. 

It's not only the immaculately groomed, long runs and short lift lines on the slopes.

It's something on the faces of the many people who work in this resort town - its WRINKLES!

Work until you are well into your 70's ??? With pleasure, thanks- and a smile on my face! This seems to be the motto in this town. A large portion of the working population employed on the mountain and in the tourist jobs are on their second careers. We met retired plumbers, pilots and Ph.D's - all enjoying their later years in what they felt was the ultimate - enjoying the outdoors in an idyllic mountain resort town, being surrounded by a caring community of colleagues and locals, and meeting new people everyday from various places around the globe!

Studies rate Denmark as one of happiest places in the world. I guess they didn't include Sun Valley in the survey.  Of course we were suspicious at first by the smiles, hospitality and open, friendly attitude. 'Typical American superficialness' or 'they just want a tip' we thought.  However, after a couple of days, we understood it was neither of those.  People were just genuinely happy. Those we met didn't just like living and working in Sun Valley - they loved it!

So, thats the answer - to keep happy, keep working! Seems easy in a place like Sun Valley. So how about Åre, Sälen and Funäsdalen? Why don't we see as many smiling, wrinkled faces at work??? Hmmm....Maybe it has something to do with the sun. 

Lynn

New Delhi - Står ovanför en glaskula och observerar



En vanlig gatubild i New Delhi

Namaste,

Vi har landat i New Delhi och känner oss mer eller mindre hemma här efter cirka 1,5 månad. Det är härligt att träffa familjen igen. Flygresan med båda barnen gick väldigt bra. Landade dock 7 timmar senare än planerat, på grund av dåliga väderförhållanden. Vem kunde ana att det kan bildas så kraftig dimma här i januari att man har en knapp sikt på 25 meter. Jag fick lära mig att det krävs minst 50 meters sikt. :) Jag kanske borde ha vetat det med tanke på att min man är helikopter pilot. Alla som har barn vet att hur svårt det är att underhålla de små liven i 15 timmar uppe i luften. 

Indien har förändrats otroligt mycket sedan jag var här sist. Ett exempel är alla förskolor som poppar upp överallt. När jag växte upp i Mysore så kunde jag inte föreställa mig att ett land med så mycket ritualer och traditioner och där de äldre har en central roll i de små barnens liv skulle ta till sig en västerländsk lösning för barnpassning. Galleriorna är jättestora och påminner om galleriorna i USA. Kontrasterna är enorma. Bakom gallerian kan man se folk som knappt har tak över huvudet och mat för dagen. Även bil-och husmarknaden är i stor blom just nu. Något som är inne i alla stora städer är att folk river sina hem och bygger 4-5 vånings lägenheter istället. Det är intressant att se och höra hur den indiska regeringen försöker underlätta för utländska investerare att göra affärer i Indien. Tyvär så är det ännu en bra bit dit. Det är sådan hierarki i landet och det gör att många utlänningar tröttnar. Jag är glad att Indien har tagit tag i detta och har fått insikt. Just nu har jag en känsla av att jag är en främling i mitt eget land och har inte riktigt hängt med i denna snabbväxande och förändrade Indien. Glädjande nog är det mycket positiva förändringar som sker men samtidigt så märks det att många traditioner går förlorade. När jag var på förskolan en dag så såg hur stressade föräldrar droppar av sina barn och jag fick en känsla av att jag står ovanför en glaskula och tittar på allt som har förändrats.

Barnen har anpassat sig väl till den indiska miljön. Hugo Raj, 20 månader gammal går på dagis och trivs kanon med sina nya indiska kompisar. Vi hade inskolning i två dagar. Jag gjorde en lista på svenska ord som han använder för att personalen ska förstå honom. Numera så förstår han hindi och engelska väldigt bra när alla talar till honom och han kan svara tillbaka på hindi. Det underbart att se honom prata hindi. Han älskar den indiska maten som serveras på dagis, ni vet, roti (indiskt bröd), curry, olika grönsaker och massa olika varianter på ris. En gång i veckan har Hugo yoga, dans och kungfu på förskolan. Det är kul att se barnen försöka göra yoga J Ibland åker vi tuktuk till förskolan och alla tuktuk förare är Hugos idoler. Det är härligt med barn och att se hur lätt de tar till sig en ny kultur och nya beteenden. Numera skakar Hugo på huvudet som vi flesta indier gör när vi pratar och sedan lutar han huvudet och undrar om ”JAG ÄR HAPPY?” Det får mig full i skratt. Här har han så mycket frihet, sitter i bilen på framsättet utan bilbarnstol.

Dior, 7 månader älskar att vara bland mycket folk och sakta men säkert har hon börjat öppna upp sig för familjen här. Det är ordnat kaos när man går till marknaden och barnen älskar det. Raj tycker det härligt att kunna gå runt och smaka på olika frukter och se vad alla säljer. Folk här är så öppna och kan bara komma fram och pussa barnen och det är de inte vana vid. Annars har vi även upplevt folkets vänlighet då barnen var väldigt sjuka. Läkaren tog inte ens betalt och han är en av de bästa barnläkarna här. Det otroligt att sådana människor existerar.

Det har varit lite kulturkrock på förskolan. Här ger personalen kakor och godis till barnen när de är lite ledsna, vilket verkar vara helt ok enligt de spelregler som råder här - men vi blev förvånade. Nu har min söta son lärt sig säga ”Snacks” för att det används flitigt här på förskolan. Ett annat exempel var när vi blev bjudna på barnkalas. Det startade kl. 18, men folk började komma runt 20. Min bror sa att här fungerar det så - indian style. Alla tittade konstigt på mig att mina barn lägger sig runt 19, medan indiska barn går och lägger sig runt 23-00. Men jag tror att jag börjar förstå det indiska tidsformatet - man äter sen lunch och sen middag och däremellan ska man hinna gå till templet och marknaden. Så det kanske inte är så konstigt att barnen lägger sig mycket senare här.

Det är kyligt här i Delhi, oftast runt 10 grader dagtid och mycket låg dimma. Nattetid är det runt 5 grader, så ni kan tänka er hur det är utan uppvärmda hus med stengolv. Vi har flera lager kläder på oss. Det tar ca två dagar för att tvätten ska torka. Så här kallt har det aldrig varit sägs det. Hörde på nyheterna att i Mysore, där jag är uppvuxen var temperaturen nere på 10 grader och det har inte varit så lågt på 120 år.

Nu börjar jag smått undra om det kommer att bli kulturkrock för barnen att komma hem igen och för Hugo att gå tillbaka till sin svenska förskola?

Jag vet att jag kommer att uppskatta ännu mer att ha rinnande vatten 24-7 utan att alltid behöva oroa mig - tänk om vi inte har något vatten imorgon...

Rima

Smoking elephants in Austria

Photographer Nick Brandt's image of a smoking elephant in his collection 'On this earth, a shadow falls'.

'You know what?', said my colleague Lynn today, 'I couldn't sleep last night because I stank!'

Now this might be a strange thing to say, but not once you understand the context. The evening before we had been out to dinner in a local restaurant here in Austria - called the Elephant.

Although Austria is a member of the EU, it apparently hasn't applied all EU regulations as yet. One of them is smoking in restaurants. The air and walls of the Elephant were thick with smoke and we reflected over how quickly you get used to environments that are smoke-free. It wasn't that long ago in Sweden and many other EU countries that you could also smoke indoors. But since this has been abolished, no smoking has quickly become the norm. And you only realise that you have adapted to the changed norm when you are confronted by a place where the norm is different.

Like Austria. Like smoking indoors. Like being so smelly that the smoke smell lingers in your clothes, hair and skin for hours afterwards and makes it difficult for you to sleep.

But will Austria fall into line like the rest of the EU?

Well, according to Wikipedia's list of smoking bans, Austria has in fact implemented several laws which limit or outlaw smoking in certain areas. Smoking is prohibited in all offices with certain exceptions such as bars, discos, restaurants etc. If all employees agree on allowing smoking in a work place, smoking may continue.
As of January 2009, a new law was put in place which mandates all restaurants, bars, discos and pubs larger than 80m² to introduce smoking rooms and non-smoking rooms. Below 50m² the owner may opt to either be a smoking or non-smoking place, between 50m² and 80m² there is an option under certain circumstances.

The smoke-free law has however encountered controversy initially, as well as inconsistent enforcement.

As we discovered last night in the Elephant.

Neil

Teacher Appreciation Day

Lynn and I are in Sinsheim, Germany, at the moment running a 2-day workshop. Today is the end of Day 1. We feel that it went well. In fact, we know it did.

At the end of the day, when we declared it over, a strange thing happened. Al the Germans in the room clenched their right fist and banged it on the table top infront of them. We were somehat taken aback but were informed that this is a German way of showing appreciation, rather like clapping the hands is in other countries.

Inspired by this feeling of appreciation, I later made a fantastic discovery on the internet - there is something called 'Teacher Appreciation Day'. Apparently, the 5th of October is an international celebration of teachers, and different countries celebrate this is different ways.

An essay competition was initiated in Quebec for students aged 6 to 17. Entitled “Mad, mad, mad about my teacher”, the competition gave children an opportunity to write about a teacher whose influence on their lives was decisive.

The Queen of Spain gave a reception to teachers. Teacher appreciation was shown with many activities and a special classic music concert at the national auditorium in Madrid.

in Finland, 20000 apples were given to pedestrians at the main railway stations of Helsinki to express “Teachers’ humanity and personality”.

Algerian students demonstrate on the streets to show their teacher appreciation.

Namibia organizes a teacher appreciation song and poetry event, and awards are given to the best performing schools.

In Estonia, local authorities and educational institutions held festive receptions to honour the teachers and show this Baltic nation’s teacher appreciation, together with concerts, theatre performances, and balls.

In Mozambique, a national homage to teachers is conducted by the country’s media during the whole week.


I like it! More teacher appreciation please!!

Neil

Spanish eating habits

After a week in Madrid, we’ve gained a little more insight into the eating habits of the Spaniards.

Lesson 1: Lunchtime. We were running a workshop with Spanish participants in the subject of value communication. As workshop leaders, we are responsible for telling participants when coffee and lunch breaks will occur. Our suggestion in Spain was to take lunch at 12.30, which we thought was rather late. ‘Not possible’ we were told. ‘Not possible to eat lunch before 1pm. The restaurant might be open but the kitchen certainly won’t be’. Compare this to lunch time in Sweden which is usually 11.30 and can be even as early as 10.30! There are probably a lot of hungry Swedes in Spain.

Lesson 2: Dinner time. If you suffer from late night indigestion, Madrid is probably not the city for  you. Turning up to eat at restaurants at 9pm, which we thought was late, we were the only guests there. The food was rolled out half an hour later and lots of it! We needed to take a couple of tummy-soothing tablets when we returned to the hotel.

Lesson 3: Tapas time. Many people are familiar with tapas. But do you know where the word comes from? We didn’t either until we were told by a Spanish person one lunch time. Firstly, Spaniards usually don’t eat tapas at home unless they are having a party. Tapas are reserved for bars and restaurants. Tapas originated from patrons standing by a bar and having a drink. Because of the heat, the practice was to put a small saucer (tapas) on the top of the glass to act as a lid and keep the flies out of the precious liquid. Then some smart Alec, or maybe an Alfonso, saw a business opportunity and put a small bite to eat on the saucer. And the tapas was born!

Neil and Lynn

Love thy neighbour

             Students march in the parade to celebrate 'No' day

I find myself working from Cyprus this week. While Cyprus public relations works hard to distance itself from the economic woes of their Greek neighbors, that distance does not over-ride tradition. Especially when a public holiday is involved!

We arrived to Cyprus on October 28th,  just in time for Oxi day, the Greek national holiday otherwise known as ‘No day’.

This holiday commemorates the day on October 28, 1940 when the Greek Prime Minister rejected the ultimatum made by Italian dictator Benito Mussolini to allow Italian troops to come into Greece at the beginning of WW II. Had the Greeks not said "No!" (Ochi or Oxi in Greek), World War II might well have lasted considerably longer. Facing Turkish aggression, the Cypriots drew inspiration from Greece's refusal to let Italian troops invade. 

As a result, while it’s actually a Greek holiday, Oxi day is also a public holiday in Cyprus - one of 18. Parades and celebrations took place throughout Cyprus, with the main one being along the road outside the Greek embassy in Nicosia.

Love thy neighbor - makes sense...I’d be happy to celebrate with the neighbors on May 17th (Norway), June 5th (Denmark), and December 6th (Finland) for a few more days off!

Lynn

How to overcome the small talk barrier

Last week I was on a trip to London and I was struck by how true one stereotype is. Standing in the bus queue, perfect strangers would start talking to each other to pass the time. In shops, staff were friendly and would chit-chat about nothing just to chew the fat. The stereotype about the small-talking Brit is true - even in the capital city.

There is no denying that small talking is a really important element of life and for some cultures it is much more important than for others. And this often carries over into the world of business. For many cultures, small talk in business is the way to get things done. In other words, small talk is BIG, important talk.

Although many Swedish people are aware of this in theory, putting it into practice isn’t always that easy! I receive many, many questions saying, ‘I know it’s really important, but I still feel really nervous or stupid when I am expected to small talk with visitors in English or when I'm at an international conference. How do I actually do it?’ In other words, how do we overcome the small talk barrier?

Sometimes it seems that we don’t want to initiate conversation unless we have something useful or funny to say. However, the first thing to remember is that the purpose of small talk in business situations is to get the conversation going and involve the other person. When we realise this, we understand that nothing is too inane or uninteresting to say. We should also bear in mind that we are in this situation together with another person, and they might be feeling just as uncomfortable or insecure as we are.

Overcoming the small talk barrier is quite simple if you follow these few simple tips:

What to talk about?

Option 1: The person themselves (eg ‘I understand you work as a Clinical Research Officer. How long have you been doing that?’)

Option 2: The situation and location (eg ‘Have you been to Stockholm Waterfront before?’)

How to kick off the conversation?

Option 1: Pose a question (eg ‘What do you think of the art exhibition here in the head office?’)

Option 2: Offer an opinion (eg ‘I think this seminar is going to be very interesting.’)

Option 3: State a fact (eg ‘There’s always a lot of traffic on the motorway from Malmö.’)

But which is the most effective way? In my experience, it is always best to ask a question that requires an answer. In this way, we involve the other person more than if we simply offer an opinion. Asking a question that requires the other person to give their opinion is an especially useful way to increase another person’s involvement and interest in the conversation.

So, overcoming the small talk barrier isn’t so difficult if you think about these simple tips. And remember, in business with your international colleagues, customers and visitors, small talk is not a threat – it’s an opportunity!

Wouldn’t you agree?

Neil S

What Spaniards think of Swedes

I was recently running a workshop in Madrid and took the opoprtunity on a lunch break to ask some of the participants what their perception of the Swedes is. Since they work for an international Swedish company, I thought they might have a valuable insight that could help me in my work as a cultural diversity trainer.

Upon receiving my question, they immediately boomeranged me with a question back. Did I mean Sweden or did I mean Swedes? Both, I said.

They thought about it and then said in a unanimous voice,

'Sweden is a very modern country. One of the world's richest. The people there have everything. They are happy and healthy and secure.'

What about Swedes themselves then? I asked.

Again some thought.

'They're very nice. Very polite. But I don't understand why they have to pretend to be interested in what everybody thinks when they make a decision. It just wastes time, and they don't really mean it anyway.'

Neil S

Stir-fried fish with barbecue sauce – Estonian style

It worked like this. The buffet was full of raw seafood, fish, meat and vegetables that you should put on your plate and take to a kitchen counter. At the counter you would choose a sauce, the chefs would stir-fry the contents of your plate and the waitress would bring the resulting meal to your table. At an Asian-style wok restaurant in Tallinn that is exactly what we did.

As we sat at our table and waited for the meal, we nibbled on sushi and salad. The waitress approached with our stir-fried food. One of my travelling companions, who is always friendly, smiled at the waitress and said

‘Mm , this’ll be good. Barbecue sauce, what d’you think?’

The waitress looked blankly at him, then at his plate and then back at him. Without the slightest flicker of a smile, she said

‘With fish? No.’

And she walked away.

Wow, we thought – that was direct! Not ‘I’m afraid I can’t say, sir’, or ‘Yes, some people like that combination’ but simply and frankly  - ‘With fish? No.’

This brief encounter highlights one of the ways in which culture affects communication. How direct is it ok to be before you cause offense? In Estonia, obviously, you can be pretty direct.

Different cultures have different tolerance levels for directness. Some cultures require a lot of ‘padding’ of the language in order for it be polite. Others don’t. But one thing to bear in mind is that, no matter if a culture is direct or indirect, both cultures are selecting what they say with care. The direct culture desires to be clear and honest with no misunderstandings about what they mean. The indirect culture desires to keep harmony in the relationship, not rock the boat and not cause upset. Both cultures feel they are being respectful.

So if ever you’re visiting Estonia don’t expect any pussy-footing about. Be prepared to take it on the chin and to be told exactly what they think.

With niceties? No.

Turning off the motorway

Sometimes great things happen when you turn off the motorway.

Last weekend, I was looking for a place to stay in the Östergötland district of Sweden. After ringing several places that were fully booked, I managed to get a room in a little town called Söderköping.

Having never heard of Söderköping, I didn't know what to expect. But, what I found was not what I expected. Söderköping is a beautiful town with an interesting place in Swedish history. One of the oldest towns in Sweden, Söderköping has many beautiful buildings from the 1200's. In the 1800's the town became an important centre for trade, thanks mainly to its interesting location, clinging to the side of the Göta canal.

The Göta canal was one of the largest civil engineering projects ever undertaken in Sweden. The canal stretches from Sjötorp on Lake Vänern to the east coast. It has a length of 190 kilometres and a total of 58 locks. Of this distance, 87 kilometres are man-made. Although disussions to build the canal were initiated in the sixteenth century, it wasn't until 1810 that the king issued a charter allowing it to be built. The Göta canal was largely built by 58,000 soldiers and it took 22 years to finish, dug mostly by hand. Throughout the 19th century, the Göta canal continued to be a very important transport route for both goods and passengers and today, it is one of Sweden's most popular and wellknown tourist attractions.

And one of the places you can see it is in the small town of Söderköping. Not only did I have a great eveníng in this town, I also learned something about Sweden's industrial history.

So, sometimes it's worth turning off the motorway.

Neil S

The healing waters of Catalonia

It came warm out of the wall at 60 degrees celcius. It tasted slightly metalic and heavy. The healing waters from the spring of Caldes de Malavella in Catalonia, Spain, attract visitors from far and wide, all hoping to cure their various ailments. It is rumoured that, thanks to these waters, the locals of Caldes live longer and healthier than those in the rest of Spain.

The practice of travelling to hot or cold springs in hopes of effecting a cure of some condition dates back to pre-historic times. Many people around the world believed that bathing in a particular spring, well, or river resulted in physical and spiritual purification. Forms of ritual purification existed among the native Americans, Persians, Babylonians, Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans.


In Caldes de Malavella there is Roman spa, now in ruins, which reflects the town's signifance throughout history. In fact, the word 'spa' comes from the Roman town Aquae Spadanae, now called Spa in Belgium.

Sitting on the terrace of Vichy Catalan, a thermal centre in Caldes, it's not hard to see that people still today believe in the potency of thermal waters - elderly people, people in wheelchairs or on crutches, zimmer frames parked against the wall, children with unusually-shaped heads, people with visible operation scars across their bodies  - all gathered on this Sunday afternoon.

But I'm here for it's youth-giving qualities. Another pint of your best brew please!

Neil

Where was I ???

Yum….(or so I've heard)

                                                   

Last month, I was found myself on this place which embodied the words, 'barefoot elegance'….

Where was I ???

Here are some clues:

- approximately 480 miles south of Miami

- population 52,000

- number of banks, 570

- 14 shades of blue and sand as far as the eye could see (at least for 7 miles) 

-  national dish, turtle stew (I'm afraid I wasn't daring enough to try it)

While I was only there for a short visit, I felt a longing to return the moment I left. Not to try the various types of green sea turtle dishes available at the local restaurants - but to dive into the workings of this tiny place (22 miles/35km long, 8 miles/13km wide) where a blend of of 100 nationalities live in harmony.

Any guesses???

Lynn G. (scroll down for answer)

Grand Cayman

20 minutes. Belize.

Under the Palompa - the writer's favorite place to sit for a half hour. Belize.

You know you're on a small island when it's enough to tell the airline that has lost your luggage, 'my local address is Casa Amarillo (the Yellow House)'.

'So when do you think I'll get my luggage?' I ask. The polite lady behind the counter answers 'oh, in a day or so, (pause) Belize.' With a long line of other travelers behind me, I decide not to question further. After flying Stockholm-New York-Miami-Belize City and then a further short jaunt to the island of Ambergris Caye, I'm not really surprised my luggage didn't make it.

Ambergris Caye is the largest of the 200 cayes that dot the coastline of Belize, (25 miles/40 kilometers long and a little over a mile/almost 2km wide in some places) and is located in the shallow waters of the Caribbean Sea just off the tip of Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula.

The only inhabited place on the island is the area around San Pedro town. The tiny town of San Pedro is about a mile and half mile long. I quickly found a local shop where I purchased a swimsuit and tooth brush. Not being on the island for work, I figured that would tide me over till my luggage arrived. Shopping done, I jumped into our golf cart (the main mode of transportation and equally as expensive as renting a mid-size car!) and was off to Casa Amarillo.

'How far from here to Casa Amarillo?' I ask the locals. '10 minutes. (pause) Belize.' is the reply. Keeping track, I notice we arrive some 25 minutes later.

The coastline of Ambergris Cays is is protected by a 190 mile/305k. long Barrier Reef. It is the second largest living coral reef in the world. We set out to explore the transparent waters of this area by boat. Our journey took us to Hol Chan, the area's marine reserve with coral over 500 years in the making. After an amazing snorkeling experience full of marine life, we were making our way back to the Casa. I ask the captain, 'how long does it take to get back?'. The reply, '20 minutes. (pause) Belize.'

Later that evening, I realize I had no idea how long the boat trip back had taken. I am finally starting to get it….the idea….the feeling….the understanding….of Belize time.

Caught up in my city life of schedules and of deadlines, where effectiveness is often measured by how much we fit into our day, I found myself blissfully sinking into the place where time just 'is'. For the week, the word HURRY was banished from my vocabulary. (apart from when running from the golf cart to the Casa door to avoid the swarms of thirsty mosquitoes!) Maybe a little 'belizin' when in Stockholm isn't such a bad idea. 

As for my luggage, filled with stuff I was so sure I needed but did just fine without….it arrived a day or so later. Belize.

Lynn G.

Everyone for raki

Crete, in Greece, is world renowned for being the home of the Minoan culture and civilization. Nowhere does this become more apparent than in the ruins of the ancient palace of Knossos. The palace, which was home to King Minos, was a huge labyrinth of rooms, with shafts of natural light and ventilation systems. The Minoans were a peaceful race, so secure in their own culture that they didn't build any walls around the palace to keep out their enemies. No walls, no moat, no watchtowers. A very hospitable people, the Minoans cultivated business relations and traded in olives, grains and wine.

This sense of hospitality has carried over the centuries to current day Cretans. While the Minoans would ply their guests with wine, today's island residents offer a very different brew.

In most traditional tavernas on Crete it is customary to bring fresh fruit or another kind of sweet to the guests after they have eaten. This sweet treat is complimentary and is always accompanied by a little bottle of raki and enough shot glasses for each of the guests. Raki is a Cretan spirit. Strong and potent. The kind of stuff that makes your face grimace and your toes curl. The raki comes after you've asked for the bill but before the bill is delivered. In Crete, it takes at least half an hour to pay. The time is spent knocking back the powerful shots of raki.

But the strategy of giving the guests free raki is not only hospitable, I'm sure. The Minoans were shrewd business people and so are the Cretans of today. Who leaves a better tip?
A sober guest? Or the tipsy one who's just knocked back a few glasses of this lethal complimentary Cretan potion?

Neil S

Crossing Istanbul

You think you have traffic???

How does one travel smoothly and efficiently across a sprawling city of over 19 million people? Well, if that city is Istanbul, and you're going by bus, it's not easy or quick - but it is exciting! 


The bus is waiting to take us from the airport, half way across town to our hotel. As we get underway, we are immediately immersed in the atmosphere of the city. Istanbul spreads, literally, across continents, with the western half in Europe and the Eastern half in Asia. Separated by the Bosphorus sea and connected by two main bridges, traffic is a bit manic! With the majority of the people living on the Asian side and commuting to and from work on the European side, driving across town (or even half way across) on a week day can take hours! 


I was enjoying a chat with fellow passengers while also noticing the very creative interpretation by our driver (and many other drivers) of where and how many lanes the were on the road. There seemed to be a preference for keeping within very close proximity to other cars on all sides. Guess this makes for maximum use of space on  the roads!  'Wow - I just saw a 4 lane road materialize into 6 right  
before my eyes!' This nearness to others also provided an opportunity for close observation of the locals.  Lots going on inside the vehicles! People singing, eating and of course talking in a multitude of animated emotional states to themselves, to those beside them, behind them, and on the phone. While observing the people, and the plethora of local sites and sounds along the way, my senses filled with excitement. Then suddenly one sound rises above all else - SMACK!

That's the sound our bus makes as it rams into the back of the taxi in front of us. For a brief moment everything comes to a SILENT STOP. Then, just a quickly, sounds fill the air again as horns start honking, voices shout and sirens soar. Engines rev on all sides of us as other drivers seek every opportunity to maneuver around what is now in their path. It seems though, that this is not an infrequent occurrence as the police arrive to the scene quickly and in just over an hour, we are on our way again.

So, how long does it take to get even half way across this city? The answer-well it  
could take an hour, maybe two, but six would not be totally surprising. I think dinner this evening is close to the hotel - maybe even in the hotel. Perhaps for tonight, that's the best choice. I can save the other side of town for my next visit!

Lynn

Journeys close to home...

On our way again.....

Apologies to our readers for not posting much about our travels in the couple of months leading up to the summer holiday. Even though we didn't write much then, it doesn't mean we weren't on the go. We are pleased to say that those months were, to put it mildly, BUSY!

The majority of our trips during that time were within close range to our home base in Stockholm. Imagine all the places you can get to from Stockholm by taking a one hour flight. Now add to that a one hour train journey, bus ride or car trip. During April-June, my colleagues and I covered most of those places within an hour's range (or at least it felt that way!). While planning the timing and logistics for getting to each new location, I heard myself saying over and over -
'Oh, no problem - it's only about an hour away!'. Well, I gravely miscalculated!

The road works, the traffic, the parking, the train delays, the bus or taxi to get to the train, bus or plane.....hmmm.....'Only an hour away'......well, I learned a valuable travel lesson.....

.....Better get going by 6am at the latest, and with any luck, I'll get there by mid-day!

Lynn

The big sky of Österlen

Light polution is a problem of the modern world. Those of us who live in large cities, rarely see the sky at night. We've lost our connection to the stars, planets and constellations and we usually only see a reflection of the dingy orange of metroploitan lighting when we look up into the night sky.

This is what makes leaving the city so exciting. A move to less populated areas, to a more rural location reconnects us with the universe.

Österlen is the most south-westerly tip of Sweden. The sandy, Baltic coastline looks out onto a horizon of sea, with Poland out-of-sight on the other side. Everything is big in rural Österlen. The sea is big. The fields of wheat are big. The sky is big and bright and blue.

But it is at night that the sky comes into its own. The night sky over Österlen, when not lit by the distant midsummer sun, is a black sheet of hugeness. The constellations of stars are all visible, just like in the text books.  You can stand for ages gazing up in to the night sky over Österlen. All those stars that we normally don't see in the cities are up there, centuries old and glimmering like sequins on a magician's velvet cape. You are baffled by the massiveness of the heavens and the smallness of yourself.

Everyone should be reminded of this, the most primitive of circumstances. The night sky, the moon, the stars - and a very small city boy overwhelmed by the magnitude of the experience.

Neil

A Warm Welcome in Marrakesh

One of the many palatial living rooms at L Mansion, Marrakesh

'It's very warm here' she says happily as we step off the plane at 5pm in Marrakesh. Normally, I don't warm up until it's at least 28°C, (82°F) but after several months of minus temperatures in Stockholm, even I agree that 20°C (68°F) feels warm! The locals seem to be of a different mind though, as they dressed in thick sweaters or wool kaftans with their hoods up.

After a short drive through the bustling, winding roads of the city we arrive at the gates of our hotel, L Mansion. Built on 12-acres filled with blossoming citrus and olive trees, L Mansion is truly an authentic Moroccan palace.

We were greeted warmly by the estate proprietor. After seating us comfortably in one of the many magnificent palace living rooms, we were offered warm mint tea. While sipping our tea, despite the ornate surroundings, the thing we noticed above all else, was 'the quiet'. In fact, as it transpired, we were the only guests. Serving primarily a discerning American clientele, the other scheduled guests had apparently been scared off from a trip to Morocco. It seems the political issues currently happening in the Arab world, while barely visible in the day to day lives of the people in Marrakesh, still impact them greatly.

Having spent about half my life in Sweden, I know that the differences between the Scandinavian countries are many. There is a tendency however, among people not from Scandinavia, to 'lump ' all Scandinavians together as if they come from a single place. 'They are more or less the same' I sometimes hear and even read in various tourist publications or on websites. I guess the 'Arab world' has suffered the same fate as the people of 'Scandinavia', despite the immense differences in each nation and its people.

So here we sit, enjoying the warm evening sun, surrounded by friendly staff with warm smiles, in a peaceful palace just minutes from the crowded streets of Marrakesh - all alone.

Tradition on the streets of Britain

No matter how modern we think we are, some things never change.

Sitting in the suburb where I grew up, logged on to BT Open Zone and merrily accessing the server in Sweden via vpn, I hear a noise from the street. It's a distance noise, a cry that gets louder and louder as it moves down the street. I feel a vague twinge of recognition somewhere in the depths of my memory.

But it can't be what I think it is. It's not possible. Not in 2011!

I put my laptop on the floor and go inte the living room to look out of the window onto the street. I hear it again. A cry, this time louder, but still not visible. I look to the left and the right, but I can't see anything.

And then I hear it - clear as day. A resonant voice echoing down the street:

'Raa-boh! Raa-boh! Raa-boh..........'

I can't believe it - the Rag and Bone man is here.

Historically, the Rag and Bone man was a man who travelled the streets of a city and collected old rags (for converting into fabric and paper), and bones (for making glue), scrap iron and other items, often trading them for other items of limited value. Now they collect any junk that they think has a useful resale or recycling value.

When I was a kid, in the 70's, they would use their distinctive 'Raa-boh' (Rag and Bone) call to alert householders to their presence, sometimes also ringing a hand bell. Whenever you gave them something, you would recieve a goldfish in return - a living goldfish swimming around in a water-filled plastic bag. I loved those goldfish.

I stand at the window in amazement. The Rag and Bone man still exists! But even he has modernised his practice.

In my childhood, he trotted around the streets in traditional horse-drawn cart with colourful balloons attached to the horse.

Now, he drives around in a spic-and-span white van. And through his side window, I see the familiar blue glare of a gps system.

Neil S