Sunday, December 20, 1998

Noodles, gongs and skyscrapers


Noodles, gongs and skyscrapers

Forget the stories about being arrested for chewing gum in the street, says Jeremy Atiyah. Singapore, more Chinese than China itself, is relaxed, clean and intoxicating
Jeremy Atiyah 
Sunday, 20 December 1998
WHY FLY for 14 hours just to visit one of the smallest countries in the world, and one chiefly remembered for having banned chewing gum? A large kindergarten with a venerable teacher named Lee Kwan Yew who delights in administering fines before breakfast? An oriental theme park and tropical island containing 147 varieties of snake, where people are instructed to call the police if they see one?
Paternalistic politics aside, I was not deterred from visiting Singapore. A theme-park? In fact its population - 75 per cent Chinese - was one of the last bastions of traditional Chinese culture anywhere in the world (including China). Repressed? Sort of, but it had just overtaken Hong Kong as the freest country in the world in which to do business. A skyscraper jungle? Except that half of this tiny country was also covered by real jungle.
Anyway, I was impressed when I arrived last week. Typical Asian cities are maelstroms of baking concrete, overflowing garbage cans and revving traffic. Here, I found myself gliding along a smooth-flowing freeway embraced by an unending green canopy of mature Rain Trees, under bridges covered in creepers and bougainvillaea.
Ecologically speaking, that was not the end of it. Value kept deducting itself from a swipe-card implanted in my car as we went, triggered by radio-waves from the kerb. Singapore's automatic Electronic Road Pricing system - the equivalent to road tolls - makes Britain's transport plans look pitiful. Underground, meanwhile, the train station floors are cleaner than the surfaces in Delia Smith's kitchen.
Once in town, I tiptoed past lawns, spreading banyan trees and brightly painted apartment blocks. Looking for breakfast, I ended up in a local hawker centre, under whirring fans, with steam pouring out of cauldrons. Atmospheric curtains of rain drummed on the corrugated roof overhead.
It was around 1820 that the first Chinese arrived in Singapore from southern China, seduced by the promise of work in Stamford Raffles's new off-shore colony. Raffles (himself no mean hand at paternalism) placed his Chinese settlers on to the south side of the river, an area which later became known as China Town.
Back then, Boat Quay was crowded with coolies unloading barges. Today, with the river cleaned up, it is lined by boutique-style restaurants. But the house fronts are still Chinese baroque, all half-moon tiles, bamboo roof-ridges, Malaysian swing-doors and Corinthian columns.
On arrival, the first thing most Chinese did was to offer thanks at the Wat Hai Ching Temple on the sea-front. Land reclamation and development have now left the temple stranded in the shade of skyscrapers, but donations from devotees continue to flow in. When I dropped by, I found spiral incense burners hanging in a smoky courtyard. Round the back men were sitting on stools four inches high, eating a steamed fish and spitting the bones out.
Scared of being fined before breakfast? Not me. Delightfully scruffy Singaporeans were shuffling around my hawker centre in shorts and singlets and flip-flops. Tiny bandy-legged ladies with pearl necklaces were carrying umbrellas longer than themselves. For breakfast I chose noodles, strips of bitter gourd filled with fish paste and chunks of steamed white radish paste in chilli. To drink? Delicious ice-cold soya milk and a thick black coffee. There was nothing remotely fake about this experience.
Having spent the previous 40 years knocking down anything old, Singaporeans are now mad keen restorers. I stayed in a street of two-storey houses where couples slurped noodles on verandahs after dark and men in glasses sat in dark rooms beneath pictures of their ancestors.
Round the corner, the Far East Square comprises entire streets that have been glazed in and air-conditioned. Red lanterns hang by steel pillars. A block or two back from the water front I even found unrestored vestiges of ancient China: shops selling shark fins, birds' nests, sea cucumbers and antelope horns ("Take bird's nest soup and pig's brains just before important examinations," a shopkeeper told me).
Those early Chinese immigrants came not to stay, but to save money to take back to their families. Many of them are saving still. It is not uncommon for third or even fourth generation immigrants to continue the tradition of sending remittances back to their home villages in China.
The Chinese spoken in Singapore comprises a bewildering cocktail of dialects spoken in the southern fringes of China: Cantonese, Hakka, Hokkien, Teochoo. The government's "Speak Mandarin" campaign , originally targeted at housewives and shop-keepers, is now being aimed at the yuppies in their downtown skyscrapers, most of whom have grown up speaking English as their first language.
The clan associations of the Chinese communities are another mystery worth penetrating. If two families came from the same Chinese village, or shared the same surname, then they will probably belong to the same clan association. This is partly about worshipping the common ancestors in ancestral halls. It is partly about belonging to a good old-fashioned social club. I dropped in on a Chinese Cultural Products shop on River Valley Road, which has been flourishing since 1935. Cymbals, gongs, mandolins, drums, flutes, fiddles were all on sale. Just another pile of old Chinese stuff?
"Not exactly," explained Jeffrey Eng, the grandson of the original owner. "Don't forget that China is a world, not a country. This for example is a Cantonese gong. You see it is small and makes a happy noise? But this one is a Teochoo gong - large and imposing. The Cantonese cannot stand it.
"All the local clan associations contact me when they need stuff for a funeral procession," he said. "But the clans are not just about making a noise at funerals. They are about investing money and buying property. My clan has about 400 members. But it is more difficult to get young members now."
Like many Singaporeans, he was ambivalent about motherland China, reverential but a trifle disillusioned. "I went to a bookshop in Shanghai and asked for books on music and culture. But people looked at me as though I were mad. Some-
times it's the same here. The Yellow Pages doesn't have a category of Chinese cultural products. So where are they going to include my shop? I have no choice but to carry on with the shop. I still send money to China, so they can use it to give offerings to our ancestors."
A good Confucian sentiment if ever there was one. But I could hardly agree that Singapore was getting like China. Compared to aggressive Hong Kong and frenetic Shanghai, Singapore had the qualities of a village: light and relaxing, with kindly faces smiling from under porches dripping with tropical rain. People had time to chat. Or was this just the product of the latest "Be Kind To Foreigners" campaign?
I came to a street corner where a group of tough men lounged in wicker chairs. Drop-outs? Gamblers? Pornographers? In fact these were hardened bird-song competitors. Their birds sang in cages hung from tree branches overhead.
Singaporean wives complain not about their husbands drinking too much, but about them showing too much concern for their canaries. Fed on a diet of crickets, grass paper, vitamins and hard-boiled egg, the birds drink from exquisite little China vases and are never exposed to the sun. At weekends, men take them for public airings, where they pick up singing skills from each other. The champion singers can change hands for thousands of dollars.
For lunch I by-passed the nostalgic House of Mao (where dishes included Stir-fried Democratic Centralism) and plumped instead for the more traditional Imperial Herbal Restaurant. A learned Chinese physician took my pulse and diagnosed excessive yang, or internal heat. I sat down to dishes of chrysanthemum flowers, ladybell root and dumplings to remove dampness, phlegm and water retention.
Later that afternoon, with an electric storm crackling around the horizon, I dropped in on the Tea Chapter for a traditional Chinese cuppa. Hip young kids were pouring out water at precisely 90 degrees Centigrade into a pot a third full of Imperial Golden Cassia tea-leaves. "To remove grease and stink between the teeth and cheeks, cleansing the oral cavity giving it a fragrance," explained the tea-menu.
Over a scalding thimbleful of tea I chatted with Choo Lip Sin, who divides his time between a day job of quantity surveyor and theatre producer. A Singaporean bohemian?
"There are no real Bohemians in Singapore," he told me, regretfully. "Nobody can afford it. But of course Chinese culture is a useful source for playwrights here. We can use stories, folklore, idioms and characters that everybody will recognise. But not too many classical references. Don't forget we are in competition with TV.
"The problem has always been which language to use. English used to be preferred language. Now people are using the Chinese dialects more. My latest project is on the subject of taboos. Of course there is still self-censorship in Singapore. But these days less than there used to be."
Boring Singapore? It occurred to me that what makes the place exciting is the idea that so many things have not yet been said here. I would love to be around when someone says them.
FACT FILE
singapore
Getting there
Jeremy Atiyah travelled as a guest of Singapore Airlines and the Singapore Tourist Board. Singapore Airlines (tel: 0181-747 0007 or 0161-830 888) flies twice daily from London Heathrow, with a third flight on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and five times a week from Manchester. Return fares cost pounds 490 plus pounds 26 tax between 1 January and 30 June.
Where to stay
The author stayed at the simple Damenlou Hotel (tel: 00 65 22 11 900) in a characterful part of Chinatown, where air-conditioned rooms cost around pounds 35 per person per night. A range of hotels, up to the most luxurious in the world, is also available. Contact the tourist board (below).
Further information
Lunar New Year holiday takes place between 30 January 1999 and 2 March 1999 and is celebrated in spectacular fashion. The Chingay Parade is held on 26 and 27 February.
The weather is hot and sticky throughout the year. The heaviest rain falls during our winter months.
Singapore Tourism Board UK Office (tel: 0171-437 0033, website www.newasia- singapore.com) can supply vast numbers of leaflets and brochures. Both Rough Guides (pounds 8.99) and Lonely Planet (pounds 6.99) publish useable guidebooks

Sunday, November 29, 1998

Where Alexander had a date with destiny


Where Alexander had a date with destiny

Deep in the western Sahara lies an oasis which has been green for thousands of years. Jeremy Atiyah celebrated the return of tourism to Egypt by visiting the Spring of the Sun
Jeremy Atiyah 
Sunday, 29 November 1998
IN EGYPT there is the river and there is the desert. The Nile and the Sahara; water and rock; Osiris, who grows, and Seth, who kills.
All tosh, of course. The desert west of the Nile is certainly the largest area of arid land on earth. But it is not dead. As the Roman geographer Strabo said, it is dotted with oases like the spots on a leopard.
What makes an oasis? A geological fluke. These are places where waters which have trickled for thousands of years - and thousands of miles - through underground passages from the rainy heartlands of central Africa, unexpectedly emerge, producing islands of trees and grasses and insects and birds. And occasionally people.
Siwa has always seemed to me the most miraculous of Strabo's leopard spots. From the Nile at Cairo, it goes over 500km in a straight line across waterless desert. From the nearest point on the barren Mediterranean coast it is at least 300km, or a nine-day trek with camels. Getting to or from Siwa has always been a monumental undertaking. But there, lurking under the palm trees, this speck of desert has harboured a minor civilisation of its own, unbroken for thousands of years.
Unlike the Egyptians of today's Nile Valley, whose claims to pharaonic ancestry have always struck me as somewhat dubious (after all, the Arabic language was imported a mere 13 centuries ago), the Siwans can plausibly claim that the Berber tongue they still use has been spoken in the area since before the dawn of history; since, in fact, that not-so distant era, recorded in rock carvings discovered deep in the Libyan desert, when rain still fell, and when the Sahara was a giant savannah inhabited by giraffes, elephants and crocodiles.
These days it takes nine hours by bus to Siwa from Alexandria, including a final four-hour stretch across a flat, featureless desert, as eerily silent as it has been for 3,000 years. But unlike most Egyptian buses, this one was not even crowded. My fellow travellers ate sunflower seeds or slept with the curtains drawn. A 19th-century Englishman, Bayle St John, on his descent into the valley of Siwa, spoke of "towers and pyramids and crescents and domes and dizzy pinnacles and majestic crenellated heights, all invested with unearthly grandeur but exhibiting that they had been battered by the mighty artillery of time". Unfortunately darkness had fallen when our bus began dropping through the folds of the escarpment. Minutes later I was walking down an empty, sandy lane to a hotel overhung by palm trees.
Siwa contains about 10,000 people, scattered in villages through the oasis. It may be a small dot on the map, but I was hardly the first to have found it. Herodotus himself, who knew Siwa as the land of the Ammonians, visited in the middle of the fifth century BC. He came investigating the mysterious story of Cambyses, the King of Persia, whose huge army had vanished in the sands outside Siwa. To this day explorers still look for their bones.
Herodotus went home to Greece spreading tales of the miraculous Spring of the Sun (today known as Ayn El-Gubah, or Cleopatra's bath), which bubbled ice-cold by day and boiling hot by night. Then, one morning early in 331BC, the Siwans awoke to find that their appointment with history had arrived. The most glamorous man of his time - of all time, some whispered - had materialised out of the desert. His name was Alexander.
My first morning in Siwa I walked along paths lined by palm trees, listening to the pervasive sound of running water. I agreed with Herodotus: the springs of Siwa were a kind of miracle. The whole oasis contains at least 200, including a dozen or more major springs, which suddenly appear as deep, turquoise pools bubbling through clearances in the trees. And these were not the feeble, decorative palms you find in southern Europe, but hardy creatures of the desert, jackhammered by sunshine. Enormous spiky frondes dangled this way and that, like the taloned wings of some prehistoric reptile. But down below, long grass grew, and labourers sat, sorting the orange dates from the brown.
The story of Alexander's visit to Siwa was no conjuring trick to attract tourists. It was simply one of the strangest tales in world history. As the new pharoah of Egypt, he came for one reason: to put questions to the ram-headed god, known to the Greeks as Zeus Ammon. Alexander would never admit to the questions that he asked, nor to the answers that he received. But it was this encounter at Siwa that convinced him of his world-conquering destiny. Later he would even ask to be buried in Siwa. Despite recent claims by a Greek archeologist to have discovered Alexander's tomb here in a Greek doric temple, it seems that Alexander's last wish was ignored.
Donkeys scuttled past in fast motion, pulling creaky carts. Thoughts of world conquest did not seem to be on the agenda today. Siwa still runs on the brawn of donkeys. The smell of their droppings fills the air. Their braying - rather than the noise of traffic, of which there is none - woke me up on each morning of my stay.
The temple of the oracle of Zeus Ammon has never been buried or lost. It is simply there, 20 minutes' walk from the main market-place. It occupies the highest point of the now abandoned hamlet of Aghurmi. I pushed open an ancient wooden door and clambered up the dissolving alleys, beside tottering walls and conical minarets. The temple is the only building of cut stone, as opposed to mud. I entered the back chamber, where Alexander put his questions to the god; the view through the high doors was unbeatable. Over glinting water and an ocean of palm-tree tops, I saw as far as the craggy escarpments and silver dunes lining the edge of the oasis.
What happened to the oracle of Zeus Ammon? It certainly survived into the Christian era. The Greek traveller Pausanias came to Siwa in 160 and found the temple alive and well, with priests still officiating over its rites. But the next time Siwa appears in history - 1,000 years later - it had been thoroughly Islamised.
Today, Siwa is one of the most traditional, Islamic corners of north Africa. It is run by the nine sheikhs of nine tribes. Alcohol is forbidden, even in the secluded Safari Paradise Hotel where tour groups stay. Local women do not show their faces. Tourists are politely asked to cover their arms and legs in public. But when I mentioned to an educated Siwan my concerns about the threat to local customs posed by increasing numbers of tourists I was told in the sweetest way: "But we need tourists. It is our problem, not yours." In fact tourists are received with great kindness.
And despite Islamic strictures, the olive groves and palmeries still rustle to rumours of the old days, when local farm workers,
known as the zaggalah, famously got drunk each night on a liquor called labgi extracted from the crown of the palm tree, and made homosexual love to the sound of music outside the walls of the old town.
"Yes, old Siwa lives on," Mahdi Hweity, who runs the tourist office, told me the next day, "but it is disappearing fast. The old city is falling to bits. Camel caravans stopped coming through around the time that the old city began to be abandoned, in the 1920s. But until 1982 there was no macadamised road and it took 18 hours in a truck convoy from the coast. You slept on the roof of the truck. When you arrived you had two kilos of dust in your clothes."
Talk of change in Siwa sounded ludicrous when I stood in the centre of town amid the few vendors selling aubergines and onions and squawking chickens in cages. I saw backpackers step awkwardly aside as a queue of veiled women was carried past on donkey carts driven by men in jelabbiyas and skull-caps. Behind my head, the abandoned fortress citadel of Shali - a jagged silhouette against the sky - may have been slowly reverting to its original mud, but in the tomb of Sidi Suleiman by the mosque, I found a group of old men on a rug, tapping drums and singing like monks. The Siwan who led me there later asked if I wanted some labgi. Old Siwa has not yet gone.
But tourism and population growth do threaten Siwa with meteoric change in the coming years. On my bus home I met a young Siwan who was studying for a masters degree in agriculture. "My thesis concerns irrigation in Siwa," he explained. "My teachers in Alexandria told me it was a bad idea because there was no information, and it was difficult to research. But I had to do it. They are risking the water supplies of Siwa by introducing chemical fertilisers and causing the fresh wells to be flooded by the salty ones." He did not quite say what I was thinking, that Siwa without fresh water would be worse than a leopard without its spots.
FACT FILE
siwa
Getting there
The arrangements for Jeremy Atiyah's trip were made with the assistance of El-Sawy Travel, 80 Park Rd, London NW1 4SH (tel: 0171-258 1901), which can provide tailor-made tours to any part of Egypt or the Middle East. A sample one-week tour, including the first night in the Ramses Hilton in Cairo, two nights in the Montazah Sheraton in Alexandria and four nights' half-board in the Siwa Safari Paradise (tel: 00 20 46 4602289), plus all internal transfers and return flights, currently costs pounds 796.
If travelling independently, Egypt can be even cheaper. Adequate accommodation in Siwa can be found for pounds 5 a night. The bus from Alexandria to Siwa (twice daily) also costs pounds 5. Flights to Cairo before 13 December or after 1 January cost pounds 186 plus pounds 29.40 tax with Lufthansa; the Christmas period costs about pounds 40 more. Trailfinders (tel: 0121-2361234).
Further information
You can get Egyptian visas on arrival at the airport, though it is more relaxing to get them in advance. Contact the Egyptian Consulate, 2 Lowndes St, London SW1X 9ET (tel: 0891 887 777, calls cost 50p per minute). Egyptian State Tourist Office, 170 Piccadilly London W1V 9DD (tel: 0171-493 5282).

If you were Jerry Hall, would you have Mick Jagger back?


If you were Jerry Hall, would you have Mick Jagger back?

Jeremy Atiyah / Virginia Ironside 
Sunday, 29 November 1998
Jerry and Mick are in trouble again, as one supermodel after another pops up to claim intimacy with the veteran rockstar. Should Jerry sling him out? Must an affair mark the end? No, says Jeremy Atiyah, there are worse things a partner can dump on a relationship. But infidelity is a betrayal of trust, says Virginia Ironside, and that's hard to come back from
Why stake an entire relationship on some narrow definition of fidelity? asks Jeremy Atiyah
When my wife told me she was having an affair, it didn't feel like the end of our world. She told me that I was still the main person in her life and I believed her. What mattered to me was how she felt, not what she had done.
I knew that if the movies were anything to go by, this situation should have developed into an enormous and slightly enjoyable drama. I, the faithful one, should have felt betrayed. I should have demanded my pound of flesh. I should have seized with great relish the opportunity to play the role of the wronged partner. At the very least I should have given my partner some kind of ultimatum: leave home now, or stop seeing that man.
But blow me down, life turned out to be more complex than that. I sat there thinking how unique every infidelity must be, and how useless the movies were. Neither I, nor anybody else in history, had ever been exactly here before. There was no obvious response. Was I really the wronged partner? Perhaps my partner was having an affair because she felt like the wronged partner. I wasn't sure. Neither was she.
In fact I hardly gave separation a thought. I didn't want it and my partner didn't want it. She had a problem with the progress of her life and was expressing it. Perhaps she even deserved credit for this. Who could tell? She had broken the emotional log-jam of our not particularly exciting marriage. Perhaps that was what was needed. For me to enforce a sudden split would have been a ludicrous act of petulance, a totally disproportionate and self-defeating reaction.
We live in experimental, changing times. Who can honestly say that they know exactly where they are going? What is fidelity? Why stake an entire relationship on some uncompromising definition? There are far worse things that people dump on their partners than infidelities. Private neuroses, abuse, blackmail, bullying, manipulation and deceit for example. My partner had given me none of these, nor had she done anything to deserve them.
Who was I suddenly to start laying down the law in such a simplistic, brutal way? I did not want to subject the infinite complexity of our relationship to neanderthal social rules invented by other people. I was certainly confused but so was my partner. I felt that this was her crisis just as much as mine. In fact it was our crisis. The first evening after she had told me about the situation, we sat together with our chins in our hands and tried to think.
What we needed was time, not deadlines. If possible, time together. We needed to find out what it all meant. And by seeing the problem from the same angle, we did come closer together. We spent more time talking more openly than we had for years. She talked about the difficulties of her affair and I listened sympathetically. She deserved it.
I'll be honest. A couple of years later we did split up. Ah! you say: the affair! It must have inflicted irreparable damage, it must have left behind its poison! But I say that affairs are what married people do. Whether or not an affair means infidelity is up to you.
Jeremy Atiyah is
travel editor
of the
`Independent
on Sunday'
Infidelity hurts people, says Virginia Ironside, and it can be hard to forgive such betrayal.
"It was like a glass made of crystal shattering into a thousand pieces," wrote one woman to me when her husband had had an affair. "However hard you tried, you could never put it back together again."
What most couples find most hard to bear, when their partner has an affair, is the breaking of trust. It's not the actual sex they mind so much about; it's the breaking of a commitment to each other. If they're married, they've made their vows in public. Fidelity is one of the promises they've made to each other. Fidelity is usually crucial.
It's the breaking of trust that makes women say to their partners: "If you do ever have an affair, I don't want to know about it." It's as if they're saying, go ahead, sleep with the odd person if you like, but the moment you let me know or I find out, the balloon will go up.
Apart from the lack of trust, anyone who's had a partner who's had an affair will know of the terrible effect it can have on their sexual self- esteem.They question whether they're attractive any more to their partners. They feel like dreadful sexual lumps of nothingness. Their sexuality has been drained by the affair.
But affairs are usually the tip of the iceberg. As marriage counsellors know, they're rarely had out of context. Nearly always they signify that something far deeper is wrong with the relationship than sex. Frequently someone will have an affair when things are going terribly wonky at home - a disastrous way to try to put things right, of course.
Affairs can hurt children too, who may be unwittingly be drawn into the whole grim business. I remember going away on holiday with my mother to France. She made friends with a tall, dark handsome Frenchman and suggested I didn't mention him to my father when we returned, but being only eight, I blurted something out by accident. My father didn't speak to my mother for a week; she didn't speak to me for a day. I felt in some horrible way that it was all my fault.
Then, often, other people will know about the affair when you're left in the dark. "I felt such a fool when I told my best friend about it," wrote one woman. "She said she'd known for years. `But why didn't you tell me?' I said. `We didn't want to hurt you,' she said. But the idea my friends knew and had kept it secret was far worse. I felt so humiliated."
It's been said that an affair can add spice to a partnership. And it's true that if an affair forces a couple to address the issues that are going wrong, they can become closer. But it's terribly rare. Having an affair to gee things up is rather like building a bonfire in your sitting room to generate more heat. True, it'll warm things up. But usually it will burn the house down as well.

Sunday, November 15, 1998

a short break to... Costa del Sol


a short break to... Costa del Sol

It's warm, cheap, easy to get to and some of Europe's best sights are on the doorstep. No wonder it's popular, writes Jeremy Atiyah
Jeremy Atiyah 
Sunday, 15 November 1998
Why go there
For the warmest, sunniest winter weather in Europe; for Europe's cheap off-season flights; for beaches, cheap eats, golf-courses, fun, relaxation, siestas - and even a few touristic sniffs of old Andalucia. The Costa del Sol corresponds to that south-facing part of the Mediterranean coast immediately opposite north Africa. It runs from approximately Estepona in the west to Nerja in the east. Its centres include Marbella, Fuengirola, Torremolinos and Malaga.
When to go
The climate is not only pleasantly mild during winter, but it is also relatively cool in summer. This being Spain, you can find local festivals at various times of the year. The Fiesta de los Verdiales/Santos Innocentes on 28 December, sometimes referred to as the Spanish equivalent to April Fool's Day, is celebrated with dance and Moorish music (and weird head- dresses).
Also in Malaga is a big and boisterous Fera ("Fair") from 13-21 August - again, largely an excuse for drinking and dancing. Marbella's Fera de San Bernabe takes place from 11-18 June. Easter is a big deal, with processions of religious floats.
How to get there
There are a vast number of direct flights from Britain. Malaga is the cheapest and the most convenient airport to fly into, though Gibraltar is an alternative. Charter flights are usually block-booked by package- tour operators but are rarely full and can be bought at discount. Unijet (tel: 0990 114114) flies daily to Malaga, throughout winter, with return flights from pounds 84 return. Scheduled flights are rarely the cheapest option but offer flexibility. Iberia (tel: 0171-830 0011) flies daily to Malaga from pounds 172 return. British Airways (tel: 0345 222111) flies daily with return flights from pounds 195.
Where to stay
There is no obligation to stay in a concrete tower block. Infinitely more charming, and much cheaper, are pensiones. Prices start from about 3,000 pesetas (pounds 12) for a double room. If it is luxury you want, I would steer clear of the Costa del Sol altogether. Five-star hotels here are not good value.
Hostal Derby, Calle San Juan de Dios 1 (tel: 00 34 95 2221301). One of many cheap establishments in Malaga. This one is a friendly, quiet place on the fourth floor with some rooms overlooking the harbour. Double rooms with shower Pta3,800.
Hostal El Cenachero, Calle Barroso 5 (tel: 00 34 95 222 4088). Also in Malaga, this is another friendly and quiet place near the seafront. Doubles Pta4,300 with shower.
Hotel Mediterraneo, Paseo Carmen 41 (tel: 00 34 95 2381452). One of several small family-run establishments in Torremolinos, and proof that this resort is, in fact, still Spain. Doubles Pta4,500 with bath.
Hostal La Pilarica, Calle San Cristobal 31 (tel: 00 34 95 282 0049). One of the cheapest small establishments in Marbella. Doubles Pta4,000 with bathroom.
Deals and packages
Cosmos (tel: 0161-480 5799) is offering one week's self-catering in a one-bedroom apartment in Nerja for pounds 202 per person, based on two sharing. One week with half-board accommodation at a three-star hotel in Fuengirola costs pounds 240 per person.
For something a little less typical, try B&B Abroad (tel: 01689 857838), which has rooms in a converted stagecoach inn on the coast for pounds 50 per twin/double room, per night. For golfing breaks, try Longshot Golf Holidays (tel: 01730 268621), which provide seven-night packages including return flights, car hire and discounted golf.
Getting around
Holiday Autos (tel: 0990 300 400) offers class A cars for pounds 69 per week (taking up to four people). Those travelling by car should note that the region's main highway is one of Europe's most dangerous roads.
From the airport, the electric train (every 30 mins) is the best way to get into central Malaga, if heading east, or Torremolinos or Fuengirola if heading west. All buses run from one station (tel: 95 235 00 61) in Malaga centre, just north west of the RENFE station on Paseo de los Tilos.
Taxis run up and down the coast, but without meters: they look up the fare in a book according to the distance covered. A run such as Malaga to Marbella (about 60km) costs about Pta6,000.
What to do and see
Grey sandy beaches, golf courses, tourists, palm trees, tower blocks, blue mountains, traffic, white cottages, flowers, balconies. Here are some of the highlights:
Puerto Bans. This marina just west of Marbella is the glitziest part of the coast. See the gigantic yacht of King Fahad of Saudi Arabia and mingle (possibly) with local residents such as Sean Connery.
Marbella's old town. Immaculately renovated, this whitewashed flower- filled zone embodies all your dreams of Andalucia. Come for small squares, outdoor restaurants, white churches and (in spring) the all-pervading scent of orange blossom.
Nerja. Retains vestiges of its Spanish origins and has nice beaches. It has a series of caves which were inhabited by palaeolithic man 20,000 years ago, and which contain a 63-metre-long stalactite (the world's longest) as well as a "cave theatre".
Torremolinos. Having grown from a fishing village into a medium-sized city, Torremolinos is unbeatable if you are interested in the study of European mass tourism. It also has good beaches, vigorous nightlife, vast numbers of cheap restaurants.
Malaga. By far the largest city on the coast, Malaga has been smartened up beyond recognition. It has an old town that is only slightly seedy and two charming Moorish citadels, most notably the cypress-filled Alcazaba. A further attraction - from next year - will be the Picasso museum, celebrating the often overlooked fact that Malaga was his birthplace.
Food and drink
Andalucia is one of the great places to eat tapas. In a few cases, little portions are still served alongside drinks ordered in bars; more standard is to see trays of goodies on the bar. Old favourites range from plain olives, to boquerones (anchovies), chipirones (squid), jamon serrano (dried ham). One of the other great specialities of the Malaga region is gazpacho.
Antonio Martn (Paseo Martimo). At more than 100 years old, this is probably the most famous and expensive fish restaurant in Malaga. Eat here to mingle with matadors after successful fights.
Casa Guaquin, Calle Carmen 37, La Carihuela. An excellent fish restaurant.
Restaurante Santiago, Paseo Maritimo 5, near the Puerto Deportivo. One of the best restaurants, plus great tapas bar.
Night life
In summer much of the action is highly touristy, which does not mean it is not fun - try any disco in Torremolinos. In winter, you have more chance of mingling with the natives. In Marbella, try the Pub Flamenco Albero y Arte; in Malaga drop in on the Patio Andaluz El Roco at Calle Reding 8. For a taste of giganticism, try the New Piper's Disco in Torremolinos, on Avenida de Palma Mallorca.
Away from the Costa
The attractions within two hours' drive of the Costa del Sol are among the greatest in Europe. The moorish cities of Granada, Seville and Cordoba are visitable on long day-trips. Closer to hand are the "white villages", including the touristy Mijas and Casares. Extraordinary Ronda, a town built over the sheer cliffs of a ravine, contains Spain's most traditional bull-ring.
Further information
The website for the Costa del Sol is at http://www.costasol.com/ The Torremolinos tourist office is at Plaza Pablo Picasso just north of Plaza Costa del Sol (tel: 95 237 11 59). It is open daily from 8am-3pm. The tourist office in Marbella is on the north side of Plaza de los Naranjos provides good maps (tel: 95 282 35 50). It is open Mon-Sat 9am-9pm.

Sunday, November 1, 1998

Christmas is coming... it's time to escape


Christmas is coming... it's time to escape

Want to avoid reindeer, snow and Santa Claus? Jeremy Atiyah on how to steer clear of the fever of the season
Jeremy Atiyah 
Sunday, 1 November 1998
WHAT IS the benefit of the lowest-ever airfares in real terms when these are available only in November and January? Miami for pounds 137 return, plus tax, off- season is all very nice, but is not of much use to those who find themselves tied down by school holidays.
So if you belong to that large body of people who have free time only over Christmas, here are a few ideas for using the holiday as a window of escape. Target: illusions of summer, as cheap as possible, with no snow, no reindeer and no Father Christmas in sight. Prices may be at least double their off-season equivalents, but if you have children you must already be used to that by now.
The Gambia is a sunny part of Africa that is only six hours away from Britain. And it is on the same time zone. The Gambia Experience (tel: 01703 730888) is offering a fortnight for pounds 598 (all prices per person based on two sharing) from the 13 to 27 December, flying out of Gatwick and staying on a b&b basis at a "simple but friendly" family-run hotel, the Badala, which has gardens and a good size pool. You can also depart on 20 December, staying for a week, though the price is not significantly less. All the hotel holidays booked over the festive period include the slightly dubious-sounding pleasure of a "Gala Christmas Dinner".
For the guaranteed sunshine of Eilat, specialist Longwood Holidays (tel: 0181-551 4494) still has availability over Christmas. An example of one week at the Moon Valley resort, which it describes as a "low to mid-grade" hotel, but which still has its own pool and easy access to the beach, will cost pounds 525 per person on a b&b basis, departing on Monday 21 December from either Gatwick or Luton. You can also fly from Manchester if you pay a supplement of pounds 15. Longwood Holidays also threatens its customers with Gala Christmas dinners, by the way.
I cannot think of many more pleasant places to spend Christmas than under the cloudless skies of Egypt, where there is scarcely any Christmas at all. Bales Worldwide (tel: 01306 885991) still has availability on its 11-day RA II cruise, which departs on 22 December. This includes a three- night stay in Cairo, as well as seven nights' full-board on a Nile cruise in the Luxor-Aswan area. The price for this, however, is a pretty serious pounds 1,490.
Slightly less guaranteed sunshine is to be found in Jordan (which sometimes sees snow in mid-winter). All the same, Bales' seven-day tour, departing on 21 December, looks rather enchanting, with visits to Petra, Amman, Jerash, Wadi Rum and Aqaba. Christmas Day is actually spent in five-star luxury in the restored Jordanian village of Taybet Zaman.
In most of the European Mediterranean the weather is by no means reliable in mid-winter, though a few special deals are available. How about Malta, which is almost as far south as you can go without being in Africa? Worldwide Holidays (tel: 01202 743907) is offering two weeks on a b&b basis in Malta for pounds 279, departing from Gatwick or Manchester on 19 December.
Cyprus in the eastern Mediterranean does not provide guaranteed sunshine, but chances are you will see a lot more rays than in Finland - and there is still plenty of availability. Magic Breaks (tel: 0161-927 7727) offers a week half-board departing on 19 or 26 December from Gatwick for only pounds 389. Otherwise, try a one-week all-inclusive package to Limassol with Priceright Holidays (tel: 0181-275 0955), departing on any date between 21 and 24 December. The price is pounds 514 and for that you will stay at a four-star hotel with gardens on the beach, with all meals and drinks included in the price. There is really no time like Christmas for an unlimited supply of free drinks, I suppose.
Failing that, there would always be the option of Europe-in-Africa, namely the Canary Islands, except that availability is pretty scarce here. Portland Direct (tel: 0990 002200) can offer a seven-night stay half-board in a Forte hotel in Puerto de la Cruz, Tenerife, departing from Southampton airport on 23 December. Otherwise, how about a one-bed, self-catering apartment for seven nights on Fuerteventura, for pounds 405, departing from Manchester on 22 December? Call Thomson (tel: 0990 329300).
Flying to the USA over Christmas is getting similarly difficult now (and accommodation in East Coast cities is almost impossible), though the West Coast is slightly more feasible, especially if you fly back before the New Year. For certain sunshine, how about golf in Palm Springs in California? Flying to Los Angeles and driving the two hours from there - departing any date between 15 and 24 December - you can get away with pounds 845 per person, for a week, room-only and self-drive, including flights and a car. Rounds of golf typically cost pounds 40 per day.
If you are heading for Australia you probably should have booked months ago, and prices are now about as high as they ever get. Nevertheless, if you are still desperate for turkey and Christmas crackers on Bondi Beach try Bridge the World (tel: 0171-911 0990) which is offering departures from Heathrow to Melbourne on Emirates, for pounds 1,019 per person, and pounds 1,119 to Sydney. The only way you will get away with a fare for less than pounds 700 is if you are a student with an ISIC card or under-26: usitCampus (tel: 0171-730 8111) says that it can offer return flights to Sydney for pounds 671.