Our long term memory is a funny beast. I look on many of my childhood events and they appear to be not only distant but also dim; quite literally so. Our holidays seem to have took place if not in black and white then in a washed-out hue while memories of people and places are increasingly becoming frayed at the edges.

Warsaw in 1978

I’m heading to Warsaw next week and am naturally drawn back to the scrambled memories of my first two visits to the city. When our family touched down in Warsaw airport in 1978 it marked a series of firsts. For my parents it was their return to Poland since they were deported as children by the Russians in 1940; the towns and villages of their birth were no longer in Poland and were very much out-of-bounds to them. For us three boys it was our first time on a plane and our first time in another country (although some might have included North Wales as an equally foreign land).

As a wide-eyed eight year old I soaked up my new environment with insatiable curiosity. This was the land of which my parents had spoken since before we could even remember; it was also a place where for once we didn’t have to spell our names and where that strange language that we had learned to speak at home was suddenly commonplace.

I remember the big shops that were almost empty, where shop assistants had rudeness and indifference written into their job descriptions; I remember the queues for bread and having to get up before 6am just to get to the market to buy food; I remember my uncle watching Benny Hill, the most successful UK export and one that was deemed acceptable entertainment by the communist regime; I remember family members taking us to church and then disappearing within 5 minutes, anxious not to be seen by the authorities (being actively religious could seriously damage your career prospects); most of all I remember the men with their carts selling sodówki (fizzy drinks). Many of them only had two glasses and a soda fountain. We’d take it in turns to quench our thirst in the summer heat. Did he even wash the glasses between customers? I don’t remember that.

Back again in 1992

Things had changed when I returned alone in 1992. The communists had gone and a disorderly reorganisation of society was taking place. There was food in the shops now, but very little money around to pay for anything. My cousin took me out to McDonald’s on its second day of operation in central Warsaw; the queue stretched for a couple of blocks and bouncers on the door kept out the undesirables. Anything was available on the streets of Warsaw if you had the money, from Russian military uniforms and hardware to Romanian babies, sold for cash with no questions asked. The National Stadium, abandoned in the 1980s, had now become the largest open-air market in Europe and was a place of great notoriety. Benny Hill was gone too, replaced by Allo, Allo. A comedy based around foreign people speaking poor English in a funny accent was dubbed in Polish and recited by a monotone voice. A recipe for disaster you’d think and yet if you opened your window in a typical appartment block when the show was on, you could hear raucous laughter coming from dozens of homes.

I’ve been back a few times since but am particularly looking forward to seeing the city now that it has been spruced up in preparation for Euro 2012. As I’ll be on a press trip I’ll no doubt be shown just how the city has been transformed. The old stadium has been replaced by one of the world’s newest sporting arenas and new shopping centres, hotels and restaurants are everywhere. It is inevitable however that when I wander through the Warsaw streets part of me will still see the city through the eyes of a 9 year old boy. Will there be enough remnants of the past to trigger those old memories? I guess I’ll soon find out.

Poles apart: growing up with Warsaw is a post from: 501 Places

London has a well-deserved reputation for being the home of many of the world’s best museums. Wander through the grand old buildings that are home to the Natural History, the Victoria and Albert or the British Museums and you can admire some of the finest collections of antiquities and rare objects.

Yet as we look closely at those priceless items and wonder about their origins, our 21st century moral compass might just begin to wobble with uncertainty. Those precious jewels from India: did we pay a fair price for them? How about those African ceremonial altars: what was the story behind their removal from their home soil? (No need to answer these questions) And what about those intricate ivory carvings: do we look at them with admiration or with anger and sadness?

Visit almost any collection of objects and curios and the question of ethics springs up. Many of the world’s great museums have been built up through a combination of meticulous research, careful acquisition and a procurement policy (at least in the early days) that could be written on the back of a rare Chinese postage stamp.

And yet we still stop to look. In recent visits to several of London’s big museums we’ve made our way through crowds of children as they stared intently at collections of rare and extinct animals or at unusual artifacts retrieved from another time and another place. There is little doubt that by giving public access to such objects of interest, we inspire the next generation of doctors, vets, conservationists and environmentalists. By showing real examples of the diversity of the human race and the natural world, curious minds are nurtured and grow to create the thinkers and doers in the following decades.

So can the end ever justify the means? Should we keep animals in captivity merely to help educate both children and adults about the importance of looking after our planet and its inhabitants? Can the the shooting and stuffing of a rare bird in a previous century be considered a positive action thanks to the joy and curiosity it has inspired from behind a glass panel in a museum?

I think back to my business school classes and the concept of a sunk cost. Perhaps the moral price of acquiring a ceremonial mask or an elephant’s tusk has long been paid and there’s no point us getting worked up about it. We might as well enjoy it; the more we gain from its current state as a museum exhibit, the more we help balance the ethical equation.

But that argument doesn’t sit easily for me. I’ll keep going to visit museums and zoos and to look at collections with a questionable history. My natural curiosity is enough to take me to these places, even if I do wander around with a series of questions going round in my head that are rarely answered on the interpretive boards.

A final thought on this: barring some form of apocalypse, museums will exist in some form of other in another 200 years. They will show curious folks how life was back in the primitive days at the start of the millennium. I wonder what practices from today’s world will be frowned upon and considered unenlightened by the people of 2212.

How museums get their stuff: should we care? is a post from: 501 Places

In almost every aspect of our lives we are increasingly being urged to think and act responsibly. We’re all familiar with the message that in using less electricity and water and by making fewer car journeys we’re doing our planet a favour. Most of us find the logic of this argument relatively easy to follow.

Is all travel bad?

Things get a bit murkier however when we turn our attention to travel. Surely if we are following the messages of conserving the earth’s resources to their logical conclusion, the whole concept of travel as a leisure activity should be considered irresponsible. Taking any form of transport leaves a carbon footprint. Planes, trains, automobiles and of course cruise ships each burn up a fair few kgs of CO2 on our behalf.

And for what? So that we can get our annual kicks while dancing and drinking the night away on some tropical beach? Is the extra stamp in our passport reason enough for us to knock another few seconds from our planet’s life expectancy?

Travelling responsibly

Stopping people from travelling is never going to happen. So rather than telling everyone to be responsible by sitting at home and taking walks by the river, the travel world has embraced the concepts of ethical and responsible tourism.  Keep travelling they say, but reduce your carbon footprint or better still, make a difference by engaging in activities at your destination that compensate for the damage done by the act of getting there.

Voluntourism (typically taking part in community or conservation projects while visiting a part of the world you’ve wanted to see) has seen a gradual rise in popularity; we all know people who have climbed Kilimanjaro or cycled across Cambodia to raise funds for a charity project; others meanwhile are encouraged to choose their holiday destinations to support regions that have suffered from disasters, natural or otherwise (New Zealand, Egypt and Japan are good examples from 2011).

Balancing the good and bad of travel

Is responsible travel a case of balancing a set of invisible scales? Do we have the inherent wrong of eating up the earth’s resources on one side of the scale, leaving it up to us to create enough goodness on the other side for us to have a balanced, guilt-free holiday? If we spend a week building a school or a well in a Kenyan village, is that worth an economy class flight to Mombasa and the guilty pleasure of time spent on the beach or on safari after the project? If we stay another week can we justify an upgrade on the way home?

Nothing is so simple and it appears impossible to measure these competing values in order to come up with some sort of ethical equation.

Doing good – but who for?

Why does someone choose to climb a mountain in Africa in order to raise £3,000 for their local hospital? Is it a far-fetched attempt to link charity fund-raising with a personal holiday? Couldn’t they just raise the money and stay at home? Or does that trip bring other benefits to that individual as well as helping to raise money among local friends by capturing their interest?

If you go to Angkor Wat and decide to spend a week working in an orphanage while you’re there, who is the project helping more: the children, who will welcome with broad smiles the attention of well-meaning visitors? Or the volunteer, who may come away with a sense of gratitude and willingness to do more, or may equally come away with little more than a few hundred photos of cute children to add to their Facebook wall?

I must admit to finding the whole world of responsible travel a fascinating if confusing one. On the one hand it could be argued that the most responsible approach is not to create new enterprises that assuage the guilt of those who insist on travelling. Instead as a society we should look at ways to curtail the massive demand for travel that has tens of thousands of aircraft constantly criss-crossing our skies. But something instinctively tells me that’s not the right approach; that we need to get out more and that global interaction is essential for all of us. Or perhaps I’m one of the ones who is beyond redemption…

Responsible travel: an impossible task? is a post from: 501 Places

Eat out in enough restaurants and however careful your selections, you’re bound to have the odd bad experience. Even in the finest places chefs and waiters can have a bad day while a bad cut of meat or fish can land on your plate despite the price you’ve paid for the privilege. But for most of us, if we think about our best and worst restaurant experiences, what sticks in the memory is usually not so much the occasions where we’ve had a reason to complain but rather how the staff dealt with our issue.

No fuss

I’m reminded of this by three contrasting experiences we’ve had in local restaurants in recent years. At the first (The Bull in Wheathampstead) I ordered a burger and it arrived full of gristle. Each mouthful had me picking out solid bits from my mouth. I told the waitress and it was sent back and replaced without a fuss. When the second came I took a few more bites and had exactly the same problem.  The waitress apologised and the item was removed from our bill with an offer of another main course if I wanted one. Previous burgers here had always been excellent so I knew this wasn’t the norm, but by now I was no longer hungry and my wife had finished her meal. We left happy that they had taken good care of us and we have returned many times since during which time I’ve enjoyed several delicious burgers.

Where’s the meat?

At the second restaurant in St Albans I ordered a Philly cheese steak. Now those who have enjoyed this unhealthy but tasty American dish in its native land will know that a good Philly cheese steak will have a generous helping of meat inside. This was sadly not the case in this restaurant. In fact I doubt I even had an ounce of meat. The wonderful irony of this sorry tale? The restaurant’s name was Meatpackers (now defunct). When the manageress asked whether everything was fine and I pointed out how little meat was in the cheese steak, she shrugged her shoulders and suggested I order the ribs next time. Needless to say there was no next time.

Another Gristly Tale

I was reminded of these moments again this weekend when we sampled the new Jamie’s Italian in St Albans. My wife ordered a steak and had to put at least a dozen mouthfuls of meat back on her plate, such was the gristle in the steak. Now the staff here were quick to swing into action and the manager soon offered us both a free dessert ‘to make sure we had a great experience’. Fair enough I thought, a reasonable gesture. Where she failed was in insisting on explaining to us that the steak was as it was because of the way they hang their meat and prepare it specially so that the fat is just right. She was effectively telling us that the steak was in fact excellent and it was us who were incapable of recognising this as a top quality piece of meat. Her actions may have been appropriate but her words, rather like the steak, left a bad taste in the mouth.

Three simple steps

I may be naive here, but surely managing a customer’s experience in this case is not rocket science. It appears that if three simple steps are followed the majority of problems can be successfully resolved:

1. Acknowledge that the customer is unhappy with their dish and the reason for their problem. Don’t try to make excuses or worse still, blame the customer.

2. Offer the customer a satisfactory solution and check they are happy with your suggestion.

3. Ensure your remedy is actioned and offer them an extra something to show that you genuinely value your customers’ satisfaction.

What have I missed? I suspect that it’s not so simple as this. For a start every diner will have different demands and while some are very reluctant to raise any issues (myself included; I’ve listed three problems from hundreds of good meals) others will complain at the first opportunity and expect a lot more payback from the restaurant. But surely the simple steps above are a start that would help to make most situations better for everyone involved.

What makes a good meal? Is great customer service in restaurants so tricky? is a post from: 501 Places

We rarely spend long enough in any place on our travels. Without the luxury of  being able to take an indefinite trip, our itineraries inevitably involve plenty of compromise and the list of places in a country we’d like to visit has to be ruthlessly cut down to fit the limited time allowed. Local people will often ask us whether we’ve had a chance to see A,B or C and when we say we didn’t have the time the reply is always the same: “You’ll just have to come back again soon”.

I nod politely, but deep down I know that we probably won’t return. Ever. However much we have enjoyed our visit I know that when we’re planning that next trip, the very fact that we have been to a country before will be held massively against it.

This logic applies even to those countries where we have hopped across their border just to visit a city or site (Honduras and the Copan ruins are a great example). The chances are that on our next Central American trip we’ll start in the south of the region. Getting as far north as Honduras may or may not happen but if time is short, however shallow or pathetic it may be, the fact that we’ve got the stamp in our passports does affect our eagerness to race up the coast of Nicaragua and into Honduras.

The same logic applies in Europe and its 50 or so countries. A trip to ‘the continent’ as we Brits so charmingly like to refer to it is often going to involve many of the same ingredients: quaint buildings (new or reconstructed), pretty central squares, beautiful churches, cheap beer/wine, good honest potato-dominated local cuisine and cobbled streets that will provide us with a blistered reminder of our visit. The history changes and the languages are different (although the ability of Europeans to put us to shame with their flawless English is almost universal) but the essence of a European adventure is fairly consistent. What therefore is the deciding factor in our choice of destination? More often than not it is a case of choosing somewhere we haven’t yet visited.

There are exceptions to this rule. It is perhaps odd that the places I have visited the most are the ones to which I am most likely to make a return visit. I’m keen to go to New York again as it’s nearly 7 years since we lived in Manhattan for a year and I’m curious to see how much has changed. A regular trip to Spain helps to keep up the basic Spanish I’ve managed to pick up over the years; the same applies to France, besides which Paris in particular is so easy to visit for an overnight break. Poland meanwhile is considered a special case, being the land of my parents’ birth.

Is it bad that we discriminate against a place purely for the fact that we’ve been there? It probably is. Spending a couple of days in a capital city is not experiencing a country to any reasonable level.  But with a limited amount of time to travel and much of the world still on the to-do list, I tend to feel that there has to be a compelling reason for somewhere to justify a return visit.

What do you think? Are you more likely to visit familiar haunts? Or does some of the twisted logic I’ve described above apply to you too?

Visiting the same country twice: the return visit dilemma is a post from: 501 Places

The pattern has been nothing if not consistent in the last few decades. Cities that spent millions (more recently billions) in their preparations to hold the Olympic Games found to their cost that their estimates of a tourism bonanza proved way off the mark. Thousands of hotel rooms remained unoccupied while those who did come shunned the ludicrously high prices for food and transport wherever they could.

Crazy Olympic Hotel Rates

Not to be deterred by previous evidence, London officials are still boldly predicting a bumper summer. Hotels are certainly preparing to make the most of the expected Olympic cash frenzy. You can bag a room at the Crowne Plaza at London Docklands in early July for £108 a night. Book the same room in early August and it will set you back £480. The Holiday Inn Express at Swiss Cottage normally charges a reasonable £68 a night; visit during the Olympics and you’re looking at £359 a night. Yes, that’s right: over £350 for a night in a Holiday Inn Express. There’s demand management and there’s outright greed borne of fanciful predictions. It would be cheaper to stay in Paris and travel in each day by Eurostar than to pay these rates.

The ‘people will pay anything’ mentality extends to taxis and will no doubt cover many restaurants who are expected to roll out their ‘Olympic menus’ over the summer, charging customers special rates to help them commemorate the big event. I strongly suspect this approach will hurt London not only in the numbers who are deterred from visiting in 2012 but also by the negative publicity that such greed will bring to the city. London cannot afford to have the world thinking it is even more expensive that its current reputation suggests.

Grounds for Optimism?

There is much talk about the overall effect of the Olympics on London. Visit Britain and the Mayor of London are unsurprisingly positive, predicting a huge celebration that will paint London and the UK in the best possible light. It is striking that the official language in recent weeks has shifted from talking about a great boost for London in 2012 to the more hopeful (wishful?) line about a long-term Olympic legacy.

At this week’s CIMTIG Question Time a panel of travel industry experts were asked for their views on the effect of the Olympics on UK tourism. It was broadly acknowledged that the number of overseas this year would see a drop, although the general feeling was positive about the long-term benefits of the Games to London.

Positive feeling is good; we wouldn’t bother to get up out of bed without it. But that optimism needs to be set against the £9 billion (or more, depending which source you believe) that will be spent by the time the Closing Ceremony brings the London Olympics to a close. Talk of a long-term legacy is of little interest to those businesses who are hoping to cash in on the massive tourism spike predicted earlier. How will a long-term legacy be quantified in monetary terms? Will we now be hoping that extra visitors come to London  in 2013 and beyond just because of the remaining Olympic infrastructure? The evidence in Sydney, Athens and Beijing doesn’t offer much hope here.

Welcome to London 

It doesn’t have to be this way. Those hotels charging sensible rates for the Olympic period will already be full. Avoiding the temptation of charging rip-off prices for transport and food will help promote the feel-good factor that should accompany the open-air parties and celebrations throughout the Olympic period. This in turn will provide the positive message that London and the UK is so desperate to give to the world. Is it achievable? Without a doubt. Will it happen? Based on current evidence I’m not optimistic.

Greed and the Olympics: will London learn the hard way? is a post from: 501 Places

Over the weekend we had the chance to explore two cities in the south east of England that have a fair amount in common. Both are a short train ride from London; both have enough olde worlde buildings to be regularly used as a filming location for period dramas; and of particular relevance to this post, both can lay claim to being home to a famous name whose legacy is known throughout the world.

Yet the contrast in how these two cities promote their star attractions could not be sharper. Rochester, a 40 minute trip along the high speed line from St Pancras, makes much of its Charles Dickens connections. Wander along the high street and you’ll see a plaque on every other building. On one building is the nun’s house from Edwin Drood; on the next is Satis House from Great Expectations; here is Mr Sapsea’s home; wonder into the Guildhall and you’ll learn about Pip and his apprenticeship. Every link to a story is clearly marked while the Visitor Centre and Guildhall make a big show of every possible aspect of the life of Dickens as well as that of his many well-known characters.

The next day we took the opportunity to explore St Albans during the annual Residents First weekend. I was keen to see the old house of Samuel Ryder, a name known around the sporting world for his sporting legacy. In 1927 he set up the first golf match between Great Britain and the United States. The Ryder Cup has since become the most important event in the golfing calendar and one of the world’s most prestigious sporting events.

As well as setting up this golf tournament he made his fortune by creating penny seed packets, enabling people with small homes and modest wages to add colour to their gardens and windows. He was the mayor of St Albans and a dedicated philanthropist, making contribution to many of the city’s institution and leaving a legacy that covers many of the historic buildings.

It would be generous of me to describe my visit to the Samuel Ryder Room as underwhelming. Now an upper room in the Comfort Inn, his office resembles a typical bland corporate meeting room with nothing to tell a visitor of the history of the site. There are a few golf-related photos on the wall but no clues as to why they are there or what the link is between this building and one of the world’s premier sporting events.

Wonder around the city and it’s the same story at the other sites associated with Samuel Ryder. No plaques, no boards, no directions; not a hint to the passing visitor or even the curious resident about the history of a man whose name is known around the sporting world.

It’s hard to understand why St Albans, a city that is desperately keen to attract day-trippers from London, has completely failed to make a noise about one of its most famous residents. He may not be a household name on the scale of Rochester’s Dickens but to millions of golf players and supporters around the world his name will forever be associated with many of the sport’s most famous moments.

Surely there is scope for a museum that celebrates the great moments of the Ryder Cup as well as the life of the man himself (his seed business went on to become part of Holland and Barrett). Of the many millions of American and European visitors who come to London, how many are keen golfers who would jump on a train for 20 minutes to visit the home of the Ryder Cup if the right facilities were provided?

Samuel Ryder doesn’t even manage a mention in the St Albans tourism website although a leaflet has recently been produced that at least allows interested visitors to follow a short trail around the town to see the sites linked to the Ryder story. You can find it in an easy-to-miss corner of the Tourist Information Centre (or here).  Hopefully the local tourism folks will find a way to use the city’s links to the Ryder Cup to promote St Albans to a global market. So far their efforts have been distinctly below par.

St Albans and Samuel Ryder: A Tale of Two Cities is a post from: 501 Places

It’s not unusual in an English bed and breakfast to wake up to the smell of frying bacon. Whether you’re staying away from home on business or pleasure and whatever the day holds in store for you, there are few better ways to kick off proceedings than with a no-holds barred full English breakfast.

Yet travel around the country and you’ll find there is no set format for a ‘full English’, with ingredients depending on regional variation as much as on the whim of the resident cook.

There are a few items that are considered an essential part of any self-respecting breakfast:

Eggs – can be served fried, scrambled, hard-boiled or poached. Given the other ingredients on your plate and the ability of the egg to absorb and mop up the residual juice (fat), I would argue that scrambled eggs (note the plural) work best.

Bacon – done in the British way. In other words, soft and leaving you in no doubt that if you let it go cold you’ll find it covered with a thick layer of solidifying grease: de-licious. Not for us those North American crispy strips; oh no. This bacon oozes (quite literally) intense flavour.

Sausage – can be pork or beef, but either way should be cooked until the skin is crispy yet succulent. Sausages should be juicy when cut open and should never be left for too long in the frying pan. There is no surer way to ruin a good breakfast than with a poorly prepared sausage. Oh, and with a full breakfast you should never be restricted to a solitary sausage.

Tomato – a fried tomato (cooked in the same pan as the meat) can be a delicious part of the breakfast experience. Must never come from a tin (I’ve seen it done and it’s quite frankly shocking).

Toast – no English breakfast is complete without toast. It should be brought at the same time as the main plate and an extra round should be available as required. White toast seems to do a better job of mopping up the sauce from baked beans; something to bear in mind when making your choice of bread.

Other items may or may not be included on your plate:

Baked beans – too often omitted, these are to me an essential ingredient in a good full English. Not only do the beans go well with the bacon and sausage, but the sauce provides a vehicle for the various juices and fats remaining on your plate to be gathered up onto your buttered slices of toast.

Mushrooms – I’ve never really understood why they are part of the breakfast and I don’t fret too much if they have been omitted. If mushrooms must be part of your breakfast offering they should be fried almost to a crisp and served immediately.

Fried bread – a personal favourite, this can serve the same function as the toast but tastes a whole lot better. It is advisable to seek a doctor’s opinion before eating more than one of these heart-stoppers.

Black pudding – this one sorts the men from the boys. It’s best not to think too much about the components and just enjoy the taste, which admittedly isn’t to everyone’s liking. Goes quite well with a fork full of beans.

Hash browns – an American influence that has permeated this most English of traditions, yet I have to admit to always adding one or two to my plate when they are available. Another good juice soaking candidate.

I’ve probably missed a few other local options from the fried breakfast plate – feel free to add them below. Of course such a breakfast should be eaten as the exception rather than the rule – more than a couple of these bad boys in a week and I suspect your cholesterol level will start rising as fast as your weight does. In moderation however, I have yet to find a breakfast offering anywhere in the world that says “Good Morning!” in quite the same style as a fully laden English breakfast.

Why nothing beats a full English Breakfast is a post from: 501 Places

I’m currently arranging a new mobile phone contract. In common with most people I have very low expectations of the customer service I’m likely to receive. This is borne out of years of bitter experience. While the staff often appear incapable of connecting my phone to a functioning network at the price I signed up to, they do display far more enthusiasm in encouraging me to spend extra money on stuff which holds no interest for me. Insurance, technical support, discounted games consoles have all been offered this time in an attempt to increase the value of my custom.

Phone companies of course are not alone. Fast food joints have long used the ‘would you like fries with that?’ line. Presumably it works, as do the frequent requests from museum staff to buy a guide book or the staff in the hardware shop to buy a box of ‘special offer’ light bulbs.

Of course the concept is not a new one. Many businesses have long worked on the principle that you entice punters with an attractive low headline rate and then proceed to fleece the customer with numerous add-ons, whether requested or not. Airlines offer headline rates that few can secure and then whack on their own surcharges; restaurants offer discounts that are soon cancelled out by doubling the cost of drinks, while the assistant selling you a new computer is more interested in you opting for product insurance than in you buying the item itself.

Perhaps of all businesses it is hotels that offer the most needless and irritating examples of upselling. Resort fees, internet and parking charges are piled on in a seemingly deliberate attempt to wind up their guests, while food and drink prices appear to be governed by how much the management think they can get away with.

It doesn’t have to be like this. A few enlightened business owners (perhaps from their own experiences as customers) have chosen to surprise their clients by their contrarian behaviour. We’ve stayed in a couple of hotels where the contents of the mini-bar were complimentary. Ok, they weren’t packed with malt whiskies and brandies, but there was enough beer, juice, water and chocolate to leave these guests very impressed, for what is a relatively small outlay to the hotel.

Do guests pay for these treats in their room rate? Of course they do. But there’s a lot to be said for the giving the impression that staff are more concerned about you having the best experience than in relieving you of extra cash at every opportunity.

Is this simply down to applying a high initial price that then allows you to be generous to your customers by giving back out of the excess you’ve charged? If this were the case then £300 hotels would not charge £25 for parking while £50 alternatives offer it for free; the motel wouldn’t offer a complimentary packed lunch while the 5 star hotel provides the same service for £15.

The ability to make customers feel valued is surely all about attitude and not economics; the ability for those in charge to be able to say “how would I like to be treated if I was the customer?” It’s such a simple starting point for any business philosophy yet it’s one that appears to be a million miles from the minds of those who create ‘the customer journey’.

“Would you like fries with that?” Is upselling upsetting the customer? is a post from: 501 Places

So say the BBC, The Telegraph, The Observer and many other publications in relation to the chances of seeing the aurora borealis in 2012. A whole host of tour operators and cruise companies have lapped up this quote and without any apparent scrutiny added it to their press releases and websites. Look at anyone offering Northern Lights tours and you’ll be very likely to find a variant of this statement occupying a prominent place in their promotional literature.

The phantom NASA Scientist

Some use the term “NASA scientist” while others refer to “NASA scientists”, although in no case is a scientist actually named. However hard I’ve tried I haven’t found a single link to an actual quote from anyone at NASA.

So what is the truth behind this claim? It appears to be little more than unsubstantiated spin relating to a natural phenomenon that is notoriously hard to predict.

Here’s what NASA actually did say in an article in 2009: “Pesnell believes sunspot counts (strongly correlating to Northern Lights activity) will pick up again soon, “possibly by the end of the year,” to be followed by a solar maximum of below-average intensity in 2012 or 2013.”

This story from the New Scientist makes even gloomier reading for aurora watchers, with some predicting the weakest solar activity for over 70 years.

Quite a contrast from all the “once in a lifetime” headlines.

Myth vs reality?

So where could this widely reported optimistic prediction have come from? Perhaps this chart provides a hint of an explanation for those who have thrown their lot behind the appearance of fantastic aurora sightings this year. It combines the research modelling results from over 50 solar physicists showing their predictions for the extent of solar activity in SC24 (the current solar cycle):

What this plot shows, even to the uninitiated eye, is a massive discrepancy between scientists in what they believe will happen in terms of solar activity. It suggests an unpredictable, almost random cycle with no consensus on the level of activity.

Anyone for a quote?

Is this merely a case of laziness on the part of journalists eager to sell a story to editors that is blessed with ready-made eye candy, while tour operators take an easy opportunity to promote the star attraction of their northern tours?

Presumably with all the professional news organisations, reputable tour operators and diligent journalists who have been happy to put their name to such a bold statement, there is some solid research to back it up. I’d love to see it. Failing this, perhaps even a link to a quote from a named NASA scientist would be a start.

The myth of the super-aurora: exposing the Northern Lies is a post from: 501 Places