Changi airport - "Enjoy the elegance"

Flying isn't really that high up on the list of things I enjoy doing. In fact over the years I've taken a couple of courses to overcome a fear which I consider to be completely rational.

Nor am I the world's greatest fan of airports. They serve a purely functional purpose as far as I'm concerned, namely a point of departure, transfer or arrival - and basta.

All right so I'll admit that I get quite a buzz from pitching up at the arrivals hall to collect someone.

It's more than a little moving to see the pure joy with which people greet each other after time spent apart.

And of course I've become quite emotional when seeing couples cling hold of one another for the longest time until one of them finally has to make their way through passport control.

But that aside airports leave me pretty cold.

Or they did until this past week.

You see my recent "encounter" with Singapore's Changi airport has rather changed the way I feel.

Much has been written about the airport, its magnificent modernity and ample amenities (apologies for the alliterative overload there - I honestly didn't just swallow a thesaurus).

In fact it's probably hard to find anything new and original to say - apart that is from my own personal impressions as a first time visitor.

So with that in mind, and just in case you've never had the chance to pass through, here goes.

Over the past couple of decades there seems to have been the trend at many of the world's major airports (or at least the ones I've visited) for them to become a shopper's paradise.

Both Roissy-Charles de Gaulle (Paris) and Heathrow (London) - two airports I know particularly well - offer a bemusing array of choice for those in desperate need of a little retail therapy or simply the desire to flex a bit of plastic to while (or wile if you prefer) away the wait.

I have - in my rather superior way - tended to scoff at such unsubtle attempts to have me part with my hard earned pennies (or centimes).

Changi tests such resolve to the limits as you can quite literally "shop 'til you drop" or at least until the credit card has been maxed out.

Changi airport, koi pond

To start off with of course there are all the "usual suspects" - in the form of booze, ciggies and smelly stuff.

There's not just the chance to hang out at one duty free shop, but in the terminal I went through - three.

If it's CLOTHES you're after (and it has to be capitalised) and DESIGNER LABELS (so does that) to boot, then you're in for an enormous "treat".

Burberry, Dolce and Gabbana, Bally, Hermes, and Zegna. Gucci, Hugo Boss, YSL, and Esprit. even Ferrari and McLaren Mercedes have got in on the act - a none too gentle reminder perhaps that since last year Singapore has played host to the only night time grand prix on the Formula One (circus) circuit.

The list could go on and on and on, but you've probably got the picture.

Looking for a watch? Hello Tag Heuer, Omega, Swatch, Tissot or Longines....and once again I could go on, but.

Then of course there's the chance to buy luggage - just in case (ouch) you haven't already checked in far too much and are looking to reinvest in something sturdier, flashier, more designer-labelly.

Changi gives you the chance to do just that with a suitcase mantra that includes, Samsonite, Delsey, Victorinox, Mandarina Duck and heck let's face it, just about any clothes or perfume designer you care to mention that seems to have jumped upon the baggage accessory bandwaggon.

Now here's a thing. How exactly are you supposed to take on board a newly-purchased oversized piece of luggage that doesn't meet the carry-on restrictions? Search me.

For technology geeks there are stores galore and the chance to drool over the Apple Macbook Air (a fellah can dream) and hundreds of gadgets that do goodness knows what - I certainly didn't have a clue, I just knew I wanted them - all.

There's a specialist French wine shop (a bit "coals to Newcastle", but that didn't stop me looking) books in a variety of languages and regional crafts stores.

If shopping - real or window - isn't exactly what you're after, then there's plenty else on offer at the airport's spacious and carpeted - yes that's right in places it's almost wall-to-wall woven stuff - terminals.

Check out the space specifically dedicated for children (and adults) to scribble and trace to their hearts' content.

Changi airport - scribble and trace area

Golfers can practise their putting, there's a cinema, live music, a swimming pool (terminal One) and five separate, perfectly-maintained miniature "gardens" featuring ferns, orchids, bamboo, sunflowers and cactus. There's even a koi pond.

Hungry? There are restaurants everywhere featuring food from all "four corners of the globe". Thirsty? Ditto - including Harry's Bar - make mine a double and easy on the ice.

There's free - yes sorry to have to keep repeating myself, but FREE wifi access available and not just for business travellers. That's s bit of a novelty for any European who might be used to having to pay.

All that and much more (I've probably missed out a huge chunk) in an airport that is clean - oh sorry CLEAN - and easy to find your way around.

There are none of those bewildering signs that seem to point you in all possible directions at the same time (anyone who has had the misfortune of passing through terminal E at Roissy recently, where organised chaos and interminable queues are par for the course, will know exactly what I mean) and there's even someone to hand out sparklingly spotless trolleys (are they all brand new?) to help you lug your almost overweight carry-on around.

The blurb in the airport brochure runs "Enjoy the elegance" and that's exactly what Changi offers.

If you turn up far too early or have an overly long stopover, it doesn't really matter. You won't be bored.

And the beauty of it all is that you don't really need to shell out buckets full of dosh to enjoy yourself.

France - and spring is in the air

I couldn't resist it and forgive me if I indulge myself a little.

But after a two week break in search of winter sunshine half way around the globe, I'm back in France and there's a definite sense that spring is in the air.

Now it might be a little too early to get overly excited, after all it's just the end of February and there's still plenty of morning frost around and there's bound to be more rain, grey weather and who knows even snow.

But in the space of just a fortnight so much seems to have changed as nature struggles to free itself from its winter mantle.

And taking a proper look around the garden on my return there was all the evidence I needed that indeed change is afoot.

Bert (the resident mole) has surely resisted the freezing temperatures and has been merrily tunnelling his way through the winter months, so in a sense "all is well in the garden".

But he has now been joined by the very first crocuses, happily poking their heads above ground.

Ah yes this country and many others might be going through financial meltdown and the media is whipping us all into a panic with stories about the economic crisis deepening.

Just yesterday for example on French television there was a report about the danger of deflation with the apparent mayhem it could cause if a recession turns into a depression.

Unemployment is rising, there's the threat of more job losses to come and all the signs are that another nationwide general strike scheduled for March 18 will go ahead.

But hang about, somebody forget to tell nature, because she's not having any of it - at least not here on the edge of the largest forest surrounding the nation's capital.

That solitary crocus from two days ago has now been joined by another, the trees are in bud and daybreak is now at 7.00am - a full 45 minutes earlier than it was two weeks ago.

All right it may all be a rather premature start to a season that should really be making its proper appearance some time in March, but what the heck!

It serves as a reminder that the simple things in life can still make an impact, not just to this forty-something man but maybe to anyone else who is willing to take a little time out to look around them and appreciate.

Admittedly it may seem a little childlike to be quite so enthusiastic, but as a wise man told me just this morning, "It's good to keep some of the child in us alive. It's healthy for the mind and body."

Have a great weekend.

Going in search of the winter sun

Not surprisingly perhaps school vacations dictate when many of the French are able to take time off work for their holidays.

Right now we're all in the middle of the school winter break, and although it's staggered regionally, a fair chunk of the country (or at least those who can afford it) will at some point this month be taking advantage of the weather here (snow, snow and more snow).

For those who might ordinarily be heading for the sun in the shape of the overseas departments of Martinique and Guadeloupe, recent strikes have meant a bit of a rethink, with reportedly more than 10,000 cancelling their travel plans.

All right so it's well known - here in France at least - that the country has the tradition of closing down over the summer. The French even have two words - or categories if you like - for those who take their holidays at certain times.

Les juilletistes - for those slipping away from the rat race for most of the month of July, and les aôutiens for - well you've probably guessed and I probably don't need to spell it out. But just in case - it's for August.

But winter - and February in particular - is another time when much of the country seems to decide to "down tools" - and not necessarily because they're indulging in what might appear to be to the outside observer, as the national pastime of striking.

France has a reasonably-priced (well in comparison to Switzerland and Austria) ski resort "industry" and the infrastructure and organisation to cope with the hordes.

It's also blessed with the Alps, the Pyrenees and even the Massif Central - each offering something suitable to fit most sizes of wallet.

For those who aren't too keen on the white fluffy stuff (me) there are the affordable sun alternatives in the form of the overseas French departments, such as the Caribbean Islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe, (or for those with deeper pockets Saint-Barthélemy) and the Indian Ocean island of La Réunion.

They're all "part" of France.

But the Caribbean, or French Antilles, are a bit of a "no-no" for tourists at the moment as there have been a series of strikes in Guadeloupe for the past month and they have spread to Martinique this last week.

Part of the outcome has been that thousands of (French) tourists have cancelled their planned holidays at the last moment and there's now a last-minute scramble to look for alternatives.

Anyway. I'm lucky enough to be able to choose when I take my holiday as there are no children involved - just a dog and house sitter required.

By the same token, I also tend to buck the trend, staying at home during the summer when the capital is at its glorious best, calm and fairly empty (of locals) apart from tourists wondering what all the fuss is about as the Parisians still around seem charmingly chilled.

I work through the summer months and take my "proper" break in the winter avoiding the crowds by heading for destinations they're least likely to choose.

Of course I never seem to get it right.

Last year it was Egypt and I still managed to bump into a fair few French as I dragged my old bones around along the lines of one old ruin visiting several others. Still it was a real eye-opener as I tried to convey in some posts here when I came back.

This year it's - well I ain't saying yet, just in case all my good intentions of taking stunning photos with my state-of-the-art camera come to nothing.

But it's far away from here and there probably won't be a news outlet in sight which makes me wonder how exactly I'll manage.

No news can be good news maybe. I'll get a chance to write (rather than ramble) and READ books rather than surf the Net.

Which brings me nicely to the pick of the best (or perhaps the worst), I've chosen to take with me on my wanderings.

You see I really haven't been able to avoid shoving a recently-bought copy of "Belle-Amie" into my case. It's a "warts and all" sort of read (apparently) by two French journalists, Michaël Darmon and Yves Derai, about this country's justice minister, Rachida Dati.

They've been doing the rounds this past week of television and radio promoting their book in which they trace the rapid rise of Dati from the humblest of beginnings to high political office, "dish the dirt" somewhat on her apparently "manipulative" character and "reveal" the name of the father of her daughter Zhora.

Hmmmmn

While I'll have my nose buried in a book it doesn't of course mean that France is going to come to a standstill. There'll be plenty of news around.

Those ongoing strikes in Guadeloupe and Martinique haven't been resolved yet and could spread to French Guyane and even the Indian Ocean island of La Réunion unless the French government manages to come up with a solution to the protests.

There's another "good read" that has just been released - this time an unauthorised biography on how the French president, Nicolas Sarkozy, met the (now) first lady, Carla Bruni-Sarkozy, written by the man who brought them together.

So if you fancy seeing how the French react to revelations about the private lives of public figures, that might be worth taking a peek at, especially as once again it rather breaks the mould of how this sort of stuff was "handled" in the past.

On the political front, Sarkozy is due to meet union leaders next week in an effort to avoid another general strike scheduled for March 19.

For now though - catch y'all in a couple of weeks. And I'll be thinking of you as I'm happily knocking back some cocktail in paradise. - NOT.

Pip the toodle!