Sunday, 27 November 2011

How to spoil the Wonders of the World

Almost everyone has heard of the seven wonders of the ancient world, and most people could name a handful of them. What I had not realised until very recently, however, is that the Great Pyramid at Giza is the only one of these wonders still standing. 4500 years after its construction you can still reach out and touch the stonework and, for the payment of a few dollars extra, crawl most of the way inside.

The Egyptian government has, understandably, capitalised on the tourism potential of the site and draws vast revenues from it each year. What they have not done, however, is taken their responsibility as guardians seriously. The pyramid, and indeed any historic artefact, is not a just a means to make a quick buck: if you take ownership of something and wish to profit from it, you have to conserve it for all the generations to come.

I first became irked by this all too common problem some years ago in Jaipur, India when visiting the Albert Hall Museum. The artefacts on display may not be the finest in existence (those, of course, are in the National Museum in Delhi, the V&A in London or  in private collections) but they are antiques nonetheless and they have a significant historical and cultural value. The museum is filthy and the exhibits caked in dust and pigeon poo. It doesn't result from a lack of money - there are ample staff employed - but there is no leadership and everything stinks of neglect.

Scroll forward perhaps a decade to Cairo in November 2011. Yes the city has had a turbulent year, but fortunately neither the pyramids nor the National Museum, a mere stone's throw from Tahrir Square, were directly harmed by the revolution. Tourist numbers have crashed, in no small part due to the perception of political instability, but if Egypt's tourism promotion were to fall under our remit, increasing confidence would only be part of the strategy: improving the delivery of the city's touristic offerings has to be on the agenda to keep tourist numbers up in the mid to long-term.

Visiting the Great Pyramid can be a nightmare, even for the experienced traveler. You arrive on site to be met by an onslaught of touts, many of whom claim to be government authorised guides (they're not). The ticket office is unmarked (putting you at the mercy of aforementioned touts as you have to ask for directions), and neither is the entrance through which you must pass to be be security screened. Once inside things don't improve: paths are unmarked and strewn with rubble and litter; there are no signposts; and every second step there is someone there hassling you to buy over-priced souvenirs or a camel ride. The more you refuse, the more insistent (and even aggressive) the camel drivers become. I consider myself to be fairly resistant to harrassment, but here even I was pushed to my limit.

The last straw was trying to get inside the Great Pyramid itself. There are no signs showing where the entrance might be, so we walked all four sides and eventually accosted the police. The gesticulated towards a small crowd of people sat 20' or so up the side of the pyramid, next to the signs saying not to climb on the monument. We traipsed up the steps, turning down t-shirts, fridge magnets and pyramid snow globes as we went, only to be told we couldn't take our cameras inside but had to leave them at the doorway. There were no lockers, and the guard would not give a token or receipt for the camera - you were required to leave it on the ledge and hope it was there when you came back. It wouldn't have been. We took it in turns to go inside, the person on the outside keeping hold of the cameras.

The day after the frustrations of the pyramids, we headed to the salmon-ponk building that houses the collection of the National Museum on Tahrir Square. The collection is magnificent, including not only the funereal goods of Tutankhamum but also bewildering array of mummies and sarcophagi, paintings, jewellery, models of everyday life in ancient Egypt, furniture, chariots and sculptures. What lets down these masterpieces, and even damages them, is the display.


The National Museum is dirty. Cases and artefacts are dusty and, in a few cases, even damp. Preserved for thousands of years, artefacts are decaying right under the negligent eyes of the museum's curators. Windows are broken, cases cracked and the yellowed cards describing what you're actually looking at are few and far between.And this is only what's being exhibited - it sickens me to think what state artefacts are being stored in out of site. A theft could go months unnoticed, and that is if it came from the outside.

The pyramids and the National Museum both earn a substantial revenue for the Egyptian government. The decay and mismanagement does not result from a lack of funds - it comes from corruption and laziness. The money comes in but is isn't spent on preserving the nation's heritage; it isn't invested in ensuring that visitors (be they local or foreign) have a positive experience so that they will communicate to friends and relatives, encouraging them to come and spend their money. If the Egyptian State wants to increase numbers and increase tourism revenues, they need to improve visitors' experience. They can do this in the following ways:

-  Reinvest a significant proportion of ticket prices into the preservation of monuments and artefacts so that world-class attractions are displayed in world-class surroundings and, even more importantly, will still be intact and on view in 100 years time.
- Keep things clean. Nothing detracts from monuments and exhibits more than litter and grime. The staff are on site - make them clean.
- Provide visitors with the information they need: maps on boards, sign posts and registered guides with ID badges.
- Keep the touts out. A harrassed tourist is an unhappy tourist.
- Designate specific areas of the pyramid site for camel drivers and souvenir sellers (they needn't be in the same place). If tourists want a camel ride or a snowglobe they can get them, otherwise they can enjoy their visit in peace.

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

London's Secret Garden

The idea of a secret garden, be it literary or actual, is a fabulous idea. There is nothing better than tromping through built up areas with their miles of tarmac and traffic and suddenly chancing upon a green and pleasant space that you never expected to see.

In the heart of Chelsea, one of London's most expensive and desirable residential areas, is one such space. Hidden from view behind tall terraces and a red-brick wall are the four acres of the Chelsea Physic Garden, London's oldest botanic garden.

The Worshipful Society of Apothecaries purchased land in 1673 in order that they might grow medicinal plants and train their apprentices. They paid a lease of £5 a year for the site - a rate set in perpetuity. The garden's location, close to the banks of the Thames, gave it a warmer micro-climate than other parts of the city, enabling the growth of both native and non-native plants despite the cold winter weather.

In the 18th century, the garden was well-stocked by a succession of high-profile botanists. Seed exchange programs were established with botanical gardens on the continent, and samples were brought back from expeditions across the world. Two major botanical texts were written at the garden during this period: the mouthful Index plantarum officinalium, quas ad materiae medicae scientiam promovendam, in horto Chelseiano (1730), and the more manageable A Curious Herbal (1737–1739).

Today the physic garden is closed to the public during the winter months, and we arrived to look around on the last day of the season. There was already a slight chill in the air and many of the flowers had finished, but there was still much to see. The oldest rock garden in England (1773) is a Grade II listed structure; there are a number of green houses and a fernery; and an original Wardian case used by Robert Fortune to bring his tea seedlings from China to India in the 19th century. The plant I found most curious was a desert plant in the cacti house that exactly resembled a ball of wool. Any cat hoping for a game would have been in for the nastiest of shocks. 
 
http://www.chelseaphysicgarden.co.uk/

Saturday, 19 November 2011

A Jurassic Encounter


My memories of crazy golf date from childhood. It was one of those things you found in slightly worn English seaside towns and spent half an hour running round when it was too cold and windy on the beach.Crazy golf has since gone up in the world - at least in southwest London.
If you drive south along the A3 from Roehampton and look out very carefully, you might just spot a few dozen life-size dinosaurs, with a stegosaurus, a triceratops and some velociraptors among them. Some of them are animatronic, some of them roar, and the quality of craftsmanship would not look out of place in the Natural History Museum.This is crazy golf for the 21st century.
We turned up at Jurassic Adventure Golf late on a Saturday afternoon. It was already almost dark but we wanted an outing and B&Q just wouldn't cut the mustard. Floodlights and the giant dinos caught out attention from the dual carriageway, and we found ourselves queuing with excitable families and their miscellaneous small children for what has to be New Malvern's funkiest attraction.
The golf itself isn't particularly challenging (at least not for anyone used to wielding a club) but the dinosaurs add a certain je ne sais quois, as does the fluorescent green water that glows in a river and waterfalls around much of the site. A bellowing triceratops will make you jump if it catches you unawares, and the prehistoric cave paintings are charming, if several million years out of date.