Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Seoul

Beyond the Palaces: 5 Unexpected Seoul Delights Off the Beaten Path

Seoul. The name itself conjures images of shimmering skyscrapers, ancient palaces, and the pulsating energy of K-Pop. And while those iconic sights are undeniably breathtaking, what if you’re looking for something a little… different? What if you’ve already ticked off Gyeongbokgung and conquered the Namsan Tower, and your wanderlust craves a Seoul that whispers secrets rather than shouts them?

Fear not, intrepid traveller! Seoul’s magic extends far beyond the well-trodden tourist trails. If you’re ready to immerse yourself in the city’s multifaceted soul, here are five alternative experiences that will leave you with unique memories and a deeper appreciation for this dynamic metropolis.

1. Get Lost (and Found) in a Local Market’s Labyrinth

While Namdaemun and Gwangjang are famous for good reason, venture into one of Seoul’s lesser-known Dongdaemun (east gate) markets for a truly authentic adventure. Think Migun-dong Electronics Market or the sprawling Tongin Market (though it’s gaining popularity, it still offers a more intimate feel than its mega-market counterparts).

Here, you won’t just find souvenirs. You’ll witness the daily rhythm of Seoul locals. Wander through aisles overflowing with everything from vintage cameras and artisanal crafts to the freshest produce and sizzling street food. Engage with vendors, practice your basic Korean greetings, and savor the thrill of discovering treasures you never knew you needed. The vibrant chaos, the cacophony of sounds, and the intoxicating aromas are an experience in themselves.

2. Step Back in Time at a Traditional Tea House in Seongbuk-dong

While Insadong offers a taste of traditional Korea, the charming Seongbuk-dong neighbourhood offers a more serene and authentic tea house experience. Tucked away in its hilly streets are hidden gems like Moonbird Porcelain or O’Sulloc Tea House (Seongbuk Branch).

Imagine this: stepping out of the bustling city into a tranquil haven adorned with traditional Korean architecture. You’ll be presented with delicate porcelain cups, fragrant teas like omija (five-flavour berry) or barley tea, and perhaps a plate of traditional Korean sweets (hangwa). It’s an opportunity to slow down, disconnect, and engage in a centuries-old ritual of mindfulness and conversation. The quiet elegance of these spaces is a welcome antidote to the urban rush.

3. Ascend the Less-Climbed Peaks for Panoramic Views

When most people think of Seoul views, Namsan Tower comes to mind. But for a more rewarding and less crowded panoramic experience, consider hiking some of Seoul’s other magnificent peaks. Bukhansan National Park is a hiker’s paradise, but for a slightly more accessible yet equally stunning vista, try Achasan Mountain.

The trail to Achasan is relatively moderate, and the reward at the summit is immense. You’ll be greeted with breathtaking views of the Han River snaking through the city, with the iconic buildings of Gangnam and Lotte World Tower in the distance. It’s a fantastic spot for sunrise or sunset, offering a different perspective of Seoul’s sprawling beauty. Bonus points if you pack a simple picnic to enjoy amidst nature.

4. Delve into Subculture at a Themed Cafe or an Independent Bookstore

Seoul’s cafe culture is legendary, but move beyond the mainstream and discover its quirky corners. Explore the Hongdae area (beyond the main shopping street) for its abundance of independent bookstores and uniquely themed cafes. Think cat cafes, sheep cafes, board game cafes, or even cafes dedicated to specific K-Pop groups.

For book lovers, Chronicler B’s or Village offer curated selections of art, design, and independent publications, often with cozy reading nooks. These spaces are not just for sipping coffee; they are vibrant hubs of creativity and community, offering a glimpse into Seoul’s subcultures and passions.

5. Discover the Art of Hanji at a Traditional Paper Workshop

Hanji, traditional Korean paper, is renowned for its durability and beauty. While you can admire Hanji crafts in museums, why not try your hand at creating something yourself? Seek out a Hanji workshop in areas like Bukchon Hanok Village or inquire at cultural centres.

These workshops offer a hands-on experience where you can learn about the intricate process of making Hanji, from the Mulberry bark to the final paper. You might even get to create your own small piece of art, try your hand at calligraphy on Hanji, or craft a beautiful lantern. It’s a deeply satisfying way to connect with a traditional Korean craft and take home a truly unique, handmade souvenir.

So, the next time you find yourself in Seoul, dare to stray from the well-worn paths. Embrace the spirit of exploration, and you’ll discover a city that’s not just grand and modern, but also intimate, quirky, and brimming with hidden wonders waiting to be unearthed. Happy adventuring!

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Sydney

Beyond the Icons: Five Hidden Sydney Gems on the Road Less Travelled

Sydney is one of the world’s most beautiful cities, but let’s be honest: once you’ve seen the Opera House sails sparkle and crossed the Harbour Bridge, you might feel like you’ve checked the box.

But for the traveller yearning for authenticity—the one who prefers the local pub to the tourist trap, and a hidden bush track over a crowded promenade—Sydney holds secrets. If you’re touring New South Wales and looking to uncover the true soul of the Harbour City, you need to drive past the postcards.

Here are the top five things to do in Sydney on the road less travelled, reserved for those willing to venture just slightly off the beaten track.


1. Trace Ancient History at Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park

While the Royal National Park gets most of the glory (and the weekend crowds), the vast, stunning wilderness of Ku-ring-gai Chase, located in the north, often slips under the radar for international visitors. This is the perfect spot for a Sydney day trip that feels like a true escape from urban life.

Why it’s on the road less travelled: This park is not just known for its phenomenal bushwalking and sprawling waterways; it is a repository of irreplaceable history. Ku-ring-gai is home to some of the most significant and well-preserved Aboriginal rock art and engraving sites in the Sydney basin.

The Must-Do: Head to the captivating West Head Lookout, which offers panoramic, uninterrupted views across the juncture of the Hawkesbury River, Broken Bay, and Barrenjoey Headland. On your way back, stop and walk the short loop trail at the Basin Track to view Aboriginal engravings of marine life and human figures, remnants of the Guringai people who have called this land home for millennia.


2. Harbour Views Without the Crowds: The Hermitage Foreshore Walk

Everyone knows the walk from Bondi to Coogee, but Sydney’s most exquisite harbour views are often found on the quieter paths along the Eastern Suburbs. The Hermitage Foreshore Walk, connecting Nielsen Park to Rose Bay, is the perfect example of secluded city beauty.

Why it’s on the road less travelled: This 1.8 km track meanders through lush, protected rainforest, leading you to tiny, secret beaches that feel utterly remote, despite being minutes from million-dollar homes. You get postcard-perfect views of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and Opera House—but from across the water, framed by trees and exclusive little coves.

The Must-Do: Pack a picnic and stop at Milk Beach, a glorious sliver of sand that is largely inaccessible except via this track or boat. It is one of the most romantic spots in Sydney, ideal for watching the yachts sail by without the presence of tour buses or selfie sticks.


3. Step Back in Time (and Ruin): Cockatoo Island

Located right in the middle of Sydney Harbour, Cockatoo Island is a UNESCO World Heritage site and one of the world’s most unique islands. It’s an industrial ghost town, a former prison, shipyard, and reformatory school, offering a fascinatingly gritty contrast to the polished surrounding suburbs.

Why it’s on the road less travelled: While easily accessible by ferry from Circular Quay, most tourists jump off at Taronga Zoo or Manly. Those who make the short trip to Cockatoo Island find a raw, sprawling historical site where the massive industrial machinery and sandstone penal buildings have been left largely intact.

The Must-Do: Take a self-guided audio tour that delves into the island’s dark convict past and its role in building Australia’s naval strength. For the truly adventurous, book a waterfront glamping tent or apartment for the night. Waking up on a silent, historical island, watching the sun rise over the harbour, is an experience few visitors ever get to claim.


4. Explore Inner West’s Industrial Transformation: The Tramsheds

Sydney’s Inner West is famous for its hipster cafes and vintage shops, but the Tramsheds in Forest Lodge offer a specific culinary and architectural experience that screams “local.”

Why it’s on the road less travelled: This is not a standard food court; it’s a beautifully restored Rozelle Tram Depot, built in 1904. The massive, soaring industrial space, complete with old tram tracks and repurposed steel infrastructure, now houses a selection of artisanal retailers, high-quality restaurants, and providores focusing on local Australian produce.

The Must-Do: Skip the chain restaurants and grab lunch at a specialist venue like Bodega 1904 or pick up fresh seafood. The atmosphere is buzzing but intimate, giving you a real feel for Sydney’s industrial heritage fused seamlessly with modern dining culture. It’s a perfect pitstop for lunch if you are driving through the Inner West towards the city.


5. Discover the Tranquil Waters of Pittwater via Ferry

For a Sydney experience that truly requires a sense of adventure (and a slightly longer drive north), head to Church Point or Palm Beach and leave the car behind to explore the hidden waterways of Pittwater.

Why it’s on the road less travelled: Pittwater is Sydney’s serene northern counterpart to the bustling Harbour. It is edged by protected national parks and sprinkled with tiny, virtually car-less communities only accessible by private ferry or water taxi. This area feels less like Sydney and more like a secluded holiday destination.

The Must-Do: Catch the little commuter ferry from Church Point across to Scotland Island or The Basin (part of Ku-ring-gai Chase). The Basin offers brilliant, calm, lagoon-like swimming and excellent walking tracks leading to lookouts over the pristine water. This ferry journey itself is a charming slice of local life—you’ll be sharing the trip with residents doing their grocery runs and kids heading home from school.


Your Sydney Adventure Starts Now

Sydney’s iconic sights are worth the visit, but the true brilliance of the city lies just beyond the tourist trails. By taking the road less travelled, you don’t just observe Sydney; you immerse yourself in its history, its wild geography, and its genuine, local spirit.

So, ditch the guidebook, fire up the GPS, and go find the hidden beaches and industrial ruins that the locals try to keep secret.


Have you discovered a hidden Sydney gem that should be on this list? Share your favourite off-the-beaten-path spot in the comments below!

Writing a book in 365 days – 325

Day 325

The Zero Draft – that old devil in the ointment, Writer’s block

The Tricksy Zero Draft: Taming the Beast of Writer’s Block

Writer’s block – that mythical monster that lurks in the deepest recesses of our minds, waiting to pounce and paralyse our creative output. Many a writer has fallen prey to its insidious grasp, staring blankly at a blinking cursor or a stack of pristine paper, unable to conjure even a single inspired sentence.

Among the most formidable foes in this battle is the Zero Draft. This elusive entity is the antithesis of progress, a paltry, unformed mass that masquerades as a first draft. It’s the when-in-Rome, throw-every-idea-against-the-wall, see-what-sticks approach that can leave even the most seasoned writers floundering in a sea of confusion and self-doubt.

So, how do you vanquish this devious demon and finally break free from its stranglehold on your writing muse? Here are a few battle-tested strategies to help you rise triumphant over the Zero Draft:

  1. Lower Your Expectations: Recognise that your first pass at a piece of writing will rarely, if ever, be perfect. It’s the rough blueprint, the scaffolding upon which you’ll build something more substantial later on. Don’t expect to craft a masterpiece in a single, inspired burst; instead, focus on getting words on the page, no matter how messy or imperfect they may be.
  2. Set a Timer and Write Drunk: Inspired by the famous Ernest Hemingway anecdote, this technique involves setting a timer for a fixed interval (20-30 minutes works well) and writing as freely and uninhibitedly as possible during that time. The resulting output may be chaotic, but it’s often a rich source of raw material to mine for later polishing and refinement.
  3. Change Your Environment: Sometimes, a change of scenery can work wonders for sparking creativity and banishing the Zero Draft. Try writing in a different location, or at a different time of day. Even a simple rearrangement of your usual writing space can help jumpstart your imagination.
  4. Collaborate with a Writing Buddy: The old adage “misery loves company” holds true when it comes to writer’s block. Having a fellow writer to share the struggle with can provide a much-needed motivational boost. Set a regular writing schedule with your partner and hold each other accountable for making progress, no matter how small.
  5. Reward Progress, Not Perfection: Give yourself small rewards for reaching certain milestones, even if your writing is still far from polished. This could be something as simple as a favourite meal, a walk in the park, or an extra hour of reading time. By focusing on the journey rather than the destination, you can maintain a sense of momentum and purpose even when the words aren’t flowing as freely as you’d like.

In the end, the Zero Draft is merely a challenge to be overcome, a hurdle on the path to crafting something truly remarkable. By adopting these strategies and maintaining a stubborn commitment to the writing process, even the most intractable blocks can be breached, and the creative floodgates can finally be unleashed. So steel yourself, grab your pen (or keyboard), and march forth into the fray – your inner author is waiting to emerge, Zero Draft be damned.

Third son of a Duke – The research behind the story – 7

All stories require some form of research, quite often to place a character in a place at a particular time, especially if it is in a historical context. This series will take you through what it was like in 1914 through 1916.

The Orient Line Voyages: Class, Segregation, and Passenger Experience on the Tilbury-Australia Route (c. 1910-1915)

Abstract: This paper examines the passenger experience on the Orient Line’s ships sailing between Tilbury, England, and Australia in the years immediately preceding the First World War (c. 1910-1915). Focusing on vessels like the RMS Orama, it delves into the distinct classes of travel offered, the extent of passenger segregation, and the spatial arrangements that defined these distinct social strata. Furthermore, it investigates the procedures for embarking passengers and explores the nature of instructions and guidance provided to them before and after boarding. This analysis sheds light on the intricate social hierarchies and logistical realities that shaped long-distance sea travel in the Edwardian era.

1. Introduction

The Orient Line, a prominent player in the passenger and mail trade between Britain and Australia, operated a vital service from the docks of Tilbury, Essex, to ports across the Australian continent. This route, particularly in the period between 1910 and 1915, represented a significant undertaking for travellers seeking opportunities, family reunification, or simply the adventure of a distant land. The ships of this era, epitomised by vessels like the RMS Orama, were not merely modes of transport but floating microcosms of Edwardian society, where social distinctions were meticulously maintained. Understanding the class structure, segregation patterns, embarkation procedures, and pre-voyage instructions offers a valuable insight into the lived experience of passengers on this crucial imperial artery.

2. Classes of Travel and Spatial Segregation on Orient Line Vessels (c. 1910-1915)

The Orient Line, like most major passenger shipping companies of the period, operated a stratified system of travel, reflecting the rigid social hierarchy of Edwardian Britain. The primary classes of accommodation were:

  • First Class: This was the domain of the wealthy, the elite, and those travelling for leisure or significant business. First-class passengers enjoyed the highest standards of comfort, service, and exclusivity.
    • Accommodation: Cabins were spacious, elegantly furnished, and often included private bathrooms (though shared facilities were also common in less opulent first-class sections). Suites, “state rooms,” or “salons” were available for families or those desiring greater privacy.
    • Public Spaces: First-class passengers had exclusive access to opulent public rooms. These typically included:
      • Saloon (Dining Room): A grand and elaborately decorated space where passengers dined at fixed times, often at individual tables or smaller communal tables.
      • Smoking Room: A traditionally masculine space, often adorned with dark wood, leather upholstery, and comfortable armchairs, providing an environment for conversation and leisure.
      • Drawing Room/Lounge: A more genteel space for relaxation, reading, and social interaction, often featuring pianos and comfortable seating.
      • Veranda Café/Deck Spaces: Designated areas on deck, often partially enclosed, where passengers could enjoy fresh air and refreshments with panoramic views of the sea.
    • Segregation: First-class areas were strictly segregated from the lower classes. Access to these spaces was limited to those holding a first-class ticket. The ship’s layout was designed to physically separate these compartments, with dedicated staircases and corridors.
  • Second Class: This class offered a comfortable, yet less luxurious, experience than first class, catering to the middle classes, professionals, and those with a respectable but not aristocratic income.
    • Accommodation: Cabins were smaller than first class, often accommodating two or four passengers. While still comfortable, they lacked the opulent furnishings and en-suite facilities of the premium cabins. Shared bathrooms were the norm.
    • Public Spaces: Second-class passengers had their own suite of public rooms, generally more modest in size and decoration than their first-class counterparts. These typically included:
      • Saloon (Dining Room): A functional and pleasant dining space.
      • Smoking Room: Less elaborate than the first-class version.
      • Lounge/Reading Room: A space for relaxation and socialising.
      • Deck Spaces: Designated areas on deck, separate from first-class areas.
    • Segregation: Second-class areas were distinct from first class, and also from third class. Passengers were expected to remain within their designated zones, with crew members enforcing these boundaries.
  • Third Class (or Steerage): This was the most basic and least expensive form of travel, intended for emigrants, labourers, manual workers, and those with limited financial means. Conditions in third class were significantly more basic.
    • Accommodation: Cabins were typically dormitory-style, with multiple bunks in a shared space. Privacy was minimal. Facilities were communal and utilitarian. Some ships might have had slightly better “intermediate” or “second-class steerage” cabins, but the general principle of mass accommodation held.
    • Public Spaces: Public spaces in third class were limited and functional.
      • Saloon (Dining Room): A basic mess hall where passengers were served hearty, but unpretentious, meals.
      • Deck Spaces: Primarily open deck areas, often at the stern of the ship, where passengers were permitted to congregate.
    • Segregation: Third class was the most intensely segregated. Passengers were confined to their own section of the ship, usually located in the forward part of the vessel. Interaction with passengers of higher classes was generally discouraged and often impossible due to physical barriers.

Where Passengers Were Confined:

The spatial confinement of passengers was a deliberate design feature of these liners.

  • First Class: Occupied the most desirable areas of the ship, typically midship and aft on the upper decks, offering better views and access to open promenade decks. Their saloons and lounges were centrally located on the promenade deck.
  • Second Class: Usually located on decks below the first class, but still in comfortable central sections of the ship. Their public rooms and promenade decks were situated to ensure separation.
  • Third Class: Typically housed in the bow (forward section) of the ship, often on lower decks. Their dining saloons and communal spaces were located here, and their access to open deck space was usually restricted to areas at the front of the ship. This positioning also meant they were more exposed to the motion of the sea in rough weather.

3. Passenger Loading Procedures (c. 1910-1915)

The embarkation process for such a large passenger vessel was a complex logistical operation, requiring careful coordination between the shipping company, port authorities, and the passengers themselves.

  • Pre-Boarding at Tilbury:
    • Arrival at the Docks: Passengers would typically arrive at the Tilbury Docks several hours before the scheduled departure. The docks themselves would be a hive of activity, with porters, luggage handlers, and officials from the Orient Line.
    • Luggage Handling: Passengers’ luggage was a major concern. Large trunks, suit cases, and personal effects were collected by shore-based porters and transported to the ship. Each piece of luggage was tagged with the passenger’s name, destination, and class of travel. First and second-class passengers often had their luggage collected from their homes by the shipping company or its agents. Third-class passengers were often responsible for bringing their own luggage to the docks.
    • Ticket and Document Verification: Before being allowed to embark, passengers had to present their valid passage tickets and any necessary travel documents (passports, emigration papers, particularly for third-class passengers). This was done at designated check-in points.
    • Health and Customs Checks: While less stringent than today, rudimentary health checks might have been in place. Customs officials would also be present to inspect baggage for prohibited items.
  • Embarkation onto the Ship:
    • Gangways: Passengers would proceed along the docks to the ship’s side and ascend gangways (walkways) onto the vessel. Separate gangways might have been designated for different classes of passengers to maintain segregation from the outset.
    • Class-Specific Boarding: The embarkation process was often staggered by class. First and second-class passengers, being fewer in number and having more personal effects, might have been boarded first to allow them to settle into their cabins. Third-class passengers, often a much larger group, would follow.
    • Guidance by Crew: Ship’s stewards and deckhands would be positioned at the gangways and entrances to direct passengers to their respective areas. For first and second class, stewards would lead passengers to their cabins. For the third class, passengers would be directed to their dormitory areas.
    • Luggage Stowage: Once on board, passengers’ luggage was either delivered directly to their cabins (for first and second class) or stowed in designated luggage holds within their class’s section. Third-class passengers might have been responsible for carrying smaller items to their bunks.

4. Instructions Issued to Passengers: Before and After Boarding

The Orient Line, like other reputable companies, understood the importance of providing clear instructions to ensure a smooth and orderly voyage and to manage passenger expectations.

  • Pre-Boarding Instructions:
    • Passenger Contracts/Agreements: The passage ticket itself served as a contract of carriage and contained important terms and conditions, including:
      • Departure and Arrival Times: Approximate sailing and port calls.
      • Luggage Allowances: The weight and number of pieces of luggage permitted per passenger often vary by class. Excess luggage fees were common.
      • Prohibited Items: Restrictions on bringing certain goods aboard.
      • Health and Vaccination Requirements: Especially for emigration.
      • Company Liability: Clauses limiting the company’s responsibility for lost or damaged luggage, or for delays.
    • Brochures and Informational Booklets: The Orient Line likely distributed promotional brochures and perhaps more detailed informational booklets to booked passengers. These would have provided:
      • Ship’s Facilities: Descriptions of the amenities available in each class.
      • Itinerary: A general overview of the voyage duration and ports of call.
      • Advice on Clothing and Provisions: Suggestions on what clothing to pack for the varied climates encountered on the journey. For the third class, there might have been advice on bringing basic necessities.
      • Rules and Regulations: A summary of expected behaviour on board.
    • Letters from Agents: Travel agents or the shipping company’s own agents would often send personalised letters confirming bookings and reiterating key departure details and advice.
  • Post-Boarding Instructions:
    • Steward’s Briefing: Upon reaching their cabins or designated areas, passengers would be met by the ship’s stewards. For first and second class, stewards would:
      • Show them to their cabins.
      • Explain the cabin facilities.
      • Inform them of meal times and locations for their class.
      • Provide information on the ship’s layout and the location of public rooms.
      • Answer any immediate questions.
    • Notices Posted in Public Rooms: Important information would be displayed on notice boards in the public rooms of each class. These might include:
      • Daily Menus.
      • Timetables for shipboard activities (if any were organised).
      • Announcements from the Captain.
      • Information on shore excursions at ports of call.
    • Verbal Announcements: The Captain or senior officers might make announcements over the ship’s P.A. system (or via oral announcements by crew members for lower classes) regarding departure, significant events, or safety instructions.
    • Lifeboat Drills: While not strictly “instructions” in the everyday sense, passengers would be required to participate in lifeboat drills, demonstrating the company’s commitment to safety and a way to familiarise passengers with emergency procedures. These drills would involve clear instructions from the crew on assembly points and actions to take.
    • Specific Instructions for Third Class: While less formal than in higher classes, third-class passengers would receive clear directions from the crew regarding dining arrangements, deck access, and any safety precautions. Their instructions were often more about order and adherence to rules within their designated communal spaces.

5. Conclusion

The Orient Line voyages between Tilbury and Australia between 1910 and 1915 were a testament to the sophisticated organisation of early 20th-century mass transit and the enduring power of social stratification. The clear division of passengers into First, Second, and Third Class dictated not only their comfort and amenities but also their physical space aboard the vessel. Segregation was a fundamental principle, physically enforced through ship design and crew supervision, ensuring that each class experienced the voyage within its designated social and spatial boundaries.

The embarkation procedures, from the critical handling of luggage to the verification of documents, were meticulously managed to ensure an orderly departure from Tilbury. Pre-voyage instructions, embedded within contracts and informational materials, set expectations and outline crucial information. Post-boarding guidance, delivered by stewards and through on-board notices, aimed to acclimatise passengers to shipboard life and ensure the smooth operation of the vessel. For passengers on ships like the RMS Orama, the journey to Australia was more than just a passage; it was a structured social experience, reflecting the hierarchical realities of the Edwardian era, played out on the vast expanse of the sea. Further research into surviving passenger diaries, company archives, and detailed ship plans could offer even richer insights into the lived realities of these voyages.

Writing a book in 365 days – 324

Day 324

Writing is my passion. Words are the way to know ecstasy. Without them, life is barren

Beyond the Blank Page: The Soul-Stirring Ecstasy of Words

There are some truths that reside so deeply within us, they become the very architecture of our being. For me, one such truth burns with an undeniable intensity: Writing is my passion. It’s not just a hobby, a job, or even a skill; it is an intrinsic part of who I am, a fundamental impulse as vital as breathing.

From the quiet hum of an idea taking root to the frantic dance of fingers across a keyboard, the act of shaping thoughts into tangible form is where I find my truest self. It’s the thrill of discovery, the meticulous craft, the joyous agony of chasing the perfect phrase. Each sentence is a step, each paragraph a journey, and the finished piece, a new world brought into existence. This isn’t merely an urge; it’s a calling, a constant whisper from the muse that demands to be heard and translated.

But it’s more than just the act of writing; it’s what words themselves represent. For me, words are the way to know ecstasy. They are not just symbols on a page; they are vessels of emotion, architects of understanding, and bridges between disparate souls. There’s an almost alchemical magic in finding the exact verb that electrifies a scene, the precise adjective that paints a vivid image, or the perfectly structured sentence that unlocks a complex idea.

That moment when the right words click into place, when a jumbled thought suddenly unfurls into crystalline clarity, is nothing short of pure bliss. It’s a connection to something larger than myself – a universal language of human experience, memory, and imagination. Through words, we can travel across centuries, inhabit different lives, understand profound sorrow and boundless joy. They are the keys to unlocking empathy, the tools for building dreams, and the threads that weave the rich tapestry of human history and culture. The sheer power and beauty contained within a carefully chosen lexicon can make my spirit soar.

Conversely, the thought of a life without words, a world where expression is stifled, where stories are unwritten, and ideas remain trapped and untranslated, fills me with a profound sense of despair. Without them, life is barren. Imagine a landscape devoid of color, a symphony without sound, a conversation without meaning. That, to me, is a life without the richness that words provide.

It would be a silent, desolate existence, stripped bare of the nuances that define our humanity. How would we learn? How would we connect? How would we express love, grief, or triumph? Our history would be lost, our future unimaginable. The very essence of what makes us sentient, feeling beings would be muted, leaving behind only the hollow echo of what could have been.

So, yes, writing is my passion. But it’s because words are so much more than tools; they are the very lifeblood of meaning, connection, and transcendence. They are my anchors and my wings, the echoes of my soul, and the path to ecstasy. And for that, I am eternally grateful for every letter, every sentence, every story waiting to be told.

What about you? What are your words? What do they mean to you?

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Sydney

Beyond the Icons: Five Hidden Sydney Gems on the Road Less Travelled

Sydney is one of the world’s most beautiful cities, but let’s be honest: once you’ve seen the Opera House sails sparkle and crossed the Harbour Bridge, you might feel like you’ve checked the box.

But for the traveller yearning for authenticity—the one who prefers the local pub to the tourist trap, and a hidden bush track over a crowded promenade—Sydney holds secrets. If you’re touring New South Wales and looking to uncover the true soul of the Harbour City, you need to drive past the postcards.

Here are the top five things to do in Sydney on the road less travelled, reserved for those willing to venture just slightly off the beaten track.


1. Trace Ancient History at Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park

While the Royal National Park gets most of the glory (and the weekend crowds), the vast, stunning wilderness of Ku-ring-gai Chase, located in the north, often slips under the radar for international visitors. This is the perfect spot for a Sydney day trip that feels like a true escape from urban life.

Why it’s on the road less travelled: This park is not just known for its phenomenal bushwalking and sprawling waterways; it is a repository of irreplaceable history. Ku-ring-gai is home to some of the most significant and well-preserved Aboriginal rock art and engraving sites in the Sydney basin.

The Must-Do: Head to the captivating West Head Lookout, which offers panoramic, uninterrupted views across the juncture of the Hawkesbury River, Broken Bay, and Barrenjoey Headland. On your way back, stop and walk the short loop trail at the Basin Track to view Aboriginal engravings of marine life and human figures, remnants of the Guringai people who have called this land home for millennia.


2. Harbour Views Without the Crowds: The Hermitage Foreshore Walk

Everyone knows the walk from Bondi to Coogee, but Sydney’s most exquisite harbour views are often found on the quieter paths along the Eastern Suburbs. The Hermitage Foreshore Walk, connecting Nielsen Park to Rose Bay, is the perfect example of secluded city beauty.

Why it’s on the road less travelled: This 1.8 km track meanders through lush, protected rainforest, leading you to tiny, secret beaches that feel utterly remote, despite being minutes from million-dollar homes. You get postcard-perfect views of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and Opera House—but from across the water, framed by trees and exclusive little coves.

The Must-Do: Pack a picnic and stop at Milk Beach, a glorious sliver of sand that is largely inaccessible except via this track or boat. It is one of the most romantic spots in Sydney, ideal for watching the yachts sail by without the presence of tour buses or selfie sticks.


3. Step Back in Time (and Ruin): Cockatoo Island

Located right in the middle of Sydney Harbour, Cockatoo Island is a UNESCO World Heritage site and one of the world’s most unique islands. It’s an industrial ghost town, a former prison, shipyard, and reformatory school, offering a fascinatingly gritty contrast to the polished surrounding suburbs.

Why it’s on the road less travelled: While easily accessible by ferry from Circular Quay, most tourists jump off at Taronga Zoo or Manly. Those who make the short trip to Cockatoo Island find a raw, sprawling historical site where the massive industrial machinery and sandstone penal buildings have been left largely intact.

The Must-Do: Take a self-guided audio tour that delves into the island’s dark convict past and its role in building Australia’s naval strength. For the truly adventurous, book a waterfront glamping tent or apartment for the night. Waking up on a silent, historical island, watching the sun rise over the harbour, is an experience few visitors ever get to claim.


4. Explore Inner West’s Industrial Transformation: The Tramsheds

Sydney’s Inner West is famous for its hipster cafes and vintage shops, but the Tramsheds in Forest Lodge offer a specific culinary and architectural experience that screams “local.”

Why it’s on the road less travelled: This is not a standard food court; it’s a beautifully restored Rozelle Tram Depot, built in 1904. The massive, soaring industrial space, complete with old tram tracks and repurposed steel infrastructure, now houses a selection of artisanal retailers, high-quality restaurants, and providores focusing on local Australian produce.

The Must-Do: Skip the chain restaurants and grab lunch at a specialist venue like Bodega 1904 or pick up fresh seafood. The atmosphere is buzzing but intimate, giving you a real feel for Sydney’s industrial heritage fused seamlessly with modern dining culture. It’s a perfect pitstop for lunch if you are driving through the Inner West towards the city.


5. Discover the Tranquil Waters of Pittwater via Ferry

For a Sydney experience that truly requires a sense of adventure (and a slightly longer drive north), head to Church Point or Palm Beach and leave the car behind to explore the hidden waterways of Pittwater.

Why it’s on the road less travelled: Pittwater is Sydney’s serene northern counterpart to the bustling Harbour. It is edged by protected national parks and sprinkled with tiny, virtually car-less communities only accessible by private ferry or water taxi. This area feels less like Sydney and more like a secluded holiday destination.

The Must-Do: Catch the little commuter ferry from Church Point across to Scotland Island or The Basin (part of Ku-ring-gai Chase). The Basin offers brilliant, calm, lagoon-like swimming and excellent walking tracks leading to lookouts over the pristine water. This ferry journey itself is a charming slice of local life—you’ll be sharing the trip with residents doing their grocery runs and kids heading home from school.


Your Sydney Adventure Starts Now

Sydney’s iconic sights are worth the visit, but the true brilliance of the city lies just beyond the tourist trails. By taking the road less travelled, you don’t just observe Sydney; you immerse yourself in its history, its wild geography, and its genuine, local spirit.

So, ditch the guidebook, fire up the GPS, and go find the hidden beaches and industrial ruins that the locals try to keep secret.


Have you discovered a hidden Sydney gem that should be on this list? Share your favourite off-the-beaten-path spot in the comments below!

Harry Walthenson, Private Detective – the second case – A case of finding the “Flying Dutchman”

What starts as a search for a missing husband soon develops into an unbelievable story of treachery, lies, and incredible riches.

It was meant to remain buried long enough for the dust to settle on what was once an unpalatable truth, when enough time had passed, and those who had been willing to wait could reap the rewards.

The problem was, no one knew where that treasure was hidden or the location of the logbook that held the secret.

At stake, billions of dollars’ worth of stolen Nazi loot brought to the United States in an anonymous tramp steamer and hidden in a specially constructed vault under a specifically owned plot of land on the once docklands of New York.

It may have remained hidden and unknown to only a few, if it had not been for a mere obscure detail being overheard …

… by our intrepid, newly minted private detective, Harry Walthenson …

… and it would have remained buried.

Now, through a series of unrelated events, or are they, that well-kept secret is out there, and Harry will not stop until the whole truth is uncovered.

Even if it almost costs him his life.  Again.

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Shanghai

Shanghai Unveiled: 5 Offbeat Adventures Beyond the Usual Tourist Trail

Shanghai. The name itself conjures images of glittering skyscrapers, historic Bund architecture, and bustling shopping streets. It’s a city of undeniable grandeur, a futuristic metropolis steeped in a fascinating past. Most visitors flock to the Oriental Pearl Tower, wander through Yu Garden, or stroll along Nanjing Road. And while these experiences are certainly iconic, they only scratch the surface of what this incredible city has to offer.

What if you’ve seen the postcard views? What if you crave a deeper connection, a glimpse into the everyday magic and quirky corners that locals cherish? You’ve come to the right place. Pack your sense of adventure, because we’re about to explore the roads less travelled in Shanghai, uncovering five unique experiences that will show you a different side of the “Pearl of the Orient.”


1. Immerse Yourself in Urban Art at M50 Creative Park (Moganshan Road 50)

Just a short walk from the Suzhou Creek, M50 is Shanghai’s answer to New York’s SoHo or London’s Shoreditch. Once a series of derelict industrial buildings and textile mills, this sprawling complex has been cleverly repurposed into a vibrant hub for contemporary art.

Why it’s off the beaten path: While known to art enthusiasts, M50 isn’t on the typical tourist itinerary. It’s not a single attraction but a collection of galleries, studios, and workshops, requiring a willingness to wander and discover.

What makes it special: You’ll find everything from cutting-edge installations and abstract paintings to photography exhibitions and quirky design shops. Many artists work on-site, offering a chance to see them in action or even purchase unique pieces directly. The raw, industrial backdrop provides a stark contrast to the sleek art, creating a unique atmosphere. Grab a coffee, chat with a gallerist, and let the creative energy inspire you.

Pro Tip: Look out for street art and graffiti that constantly change on the exterior walls, adding another layer to the artistic experience. Weekdays are generally quieter if you prefer a more contemplative visit.


2. Step Back in Time at the Shanghai Propaganda Poster Art Centre

Tucked away in the basement of a nondescript apartment building in the former French Concession, this private museum is a fascinating, if somewhat clandestine, journey into China’s revolutionary past.

Why it’s off the beaten path: Blink and you’ll miss the subtle entrance! There are no grand signs, and finding it often feels like you’re on a secret mission. It’s certainly not listed in every guidebook.

What makes it special: This veritable treasure trove houses an incredible collection of original propaganda posters from the early days of the People’s Republic of China, through the Cultural Revolution, and beyond. The posters are vibrant, historically significant, and incredibly rare. They offer a unique, visual narrative of a pivotal era, showcasing the artistic styles and political messages that shaped a nation. It’s a poignant and thought-provoking experience, often leaving visitors with a deeper understanding of modern Chinese history.

Pro Tip: Be prepared to ring a doorbell at the address (Room B, 868 Huashan Road) and navigate a residential complex. Photography is usually allowed without flash in most areas, but always double-check.


3. Dive into Local Life at a Bustling Wet Market

Forget souvenir shops; for a true taste of authentic Shanghai life, head to a local wet market. These vibrant, sensory-overload hubs are where locals buy their fresh produce, meat, fish, and unique regional ingredients.

Why it’s off the beaten path: This isn’t a “sight” in the traditional sense, but an immersive cultural experience. It can be loud, a little messy, and overwhelming for some, but that’s precisely its charm.

What makes it special: The sheer energy is infectious. Watch vendors expertly butcher meat, bargain over piles of colourful fruits and vegetables, and marvel at the exotic array of seafood, some of which you’ve probably never seen before. It’s a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and smells, offering an unfiltered glimpse into the daily routines of Shanghai residents. You might even discover some incredible street food stalls outside the market selling freshly made noodles, dumplings, or steamed buns.

Pro Tip: Go in the morning when the markets are most active and the produce is freshest. Popular options include the Wulumuqi Road Wet Market or smaller ones nestled in local neighbourhoods around the former French Concession. Be respectful, don’t block aisles, and be open to new sensory experiences!


4. Find Serenity at Longhua Temple & Pagoda

While Yu Garden’s classical beauty draws crowds, the Longhua Temple offers a more contemplative and authentic Buddhist experience. Located a bit further south, it’s Shanghai’s oldest and largest Buddhist complex, boasting a history that dates back nearly 1,800 years.

Why it’s off the beaten path: It requires a short Metro ride out of the absolute city centre, making it less convenient for quick tourist dashes. This results in fewer crowds and a more peaceful atmosphere.

What makes it special: The temple complex features several grand halls, each housing impressive statues of Buddha and various deities, as well as beautifully manicured gardens. The most striking feature is the magnificent 7-story Longhua Pagoda, an elegant brick and wood structure that is one of the few examples of ancient pagoda architecture remaining in Shanghai. Explore the grounds, listen to the rhythmic chanting of monks, and watch locals offer prayers, giving you a sense of ancient spirituality amidst the modern urban sprawl.

Pro Tip: Visit during a Buddhist festival for a more lively experience with special ceremonies and offerings, but avoid it if you prefer quiet reflection. The Vegetarian Restaurant within the temple grounds offers a delicious and authentic temple-fare lunch.


5. Ride the Local Ferry for Unbeatable Skyline Views (Without the Price Tag)

Forget expensive Huangpu River cruises! For a truly local and incredibly cheap experience with equally stunning views of Shanghai’s iconic skyline, hop on one of the regular commuter ferries.

Why it’s off the beaten path: Most tourists are directed to the fancier cruise ships. The local ferries are simply a means of transport for residents crossing the river, making them a genuine “road less travelled” experience.

What makes it special: For just a few yuan, you can glide across the Huangpu River, enjoying panoramic vistas of both the historic Bund on the Puxi side and the futuristic Pudong skyline (Oriental Pearl Tower, Shanghai Tower, Jin Mao Tower) on the other. It’s an unpretentious, unhurried way to soak in the city’s breathtaking architecture, rub shoulders with locals, and feel the pulse of Shanghai’s daily life, all while getting incredible photo opportunities.

Pro Tip: Take the ferry from the Bund (near Chenyi Square) to Pudong, especially around sunset, for the most dramatic views as the city lights begin to twinkle. You can pay with a Shanghai Public Transportation Card or exact change (usually 2-3 RMB).


Shanghai is a city that constantly reinvents itself, but its true magic often lies just beyond the well-trodden paths. By venturing into these less-explored corners, you’ll not only discover hidden gems but also gain a richer, more authentic understanding of this dynamic metropolis. So, next time you’re in this incredible city, dare to take the road less travelled – you might just find your new favourite Shanghai memory.

What hidden gems have YOU uncovered in Shanghai? Share your tips in the comments below!

Writing a book in 365 days – 324

Day 324

Writing is my passion. Words are the way to know ecstasy. Without them, life is barren

Beyond the Blank Page: The Soul-Stirring Ecstasy of Words

There are some truths that reside so deeply within us, they become the very architecture of our being. For me, one such truth burns with an undeniable intensity: Writing is my passion. It’s not just a hobby, a job, or even a skill; it is an intrinsic part of who I am, a fundamental impulse as vital as breathing.

From the quiet hum of an idea taking root to the frantic dance of fingers across a keyboard, the act of shaping thoughts into tangible form is where I find my truest self. It’s the thrill of discovery, the meticulous craft, the joyous agony of chasing the perfect phrase. Each sentence is a step, each paragraph a journey, and the finished piece, a new world brought into existence. This isn’t merely an urge; it’s a calling, a constant whisper from the muse that demands to be heard and translated.

But it’s more than just the act of writing; it’s what words themselves represent. For me, words are the way to know ecstasy. They are not just symbols on a page; they are vessels of emotion, architects of understanding, and bridges between disparate souls. There’s an almost alchemical magic in finding the exact verb that electrifies a scene, the precise adjective that paints a vivid image, or the perfectly structured sentence that unlocks a complex idea.

That moment when the right words click into place, when a jumbled thought suddenly unfurls into crystalline clarity, is nothing short of pure bliss. It’s a connection to something larger than myself – a universal language of human experience, memory, and imagination. Through words, we can travel across centuries, inhabit different lives, understand profound sorrow and boundless joy. They are the keys to unlocking empathy, the tools for building dreams, and the threads that weave the rich tapestry of human history and culture. The sheer power and beauty contained within a carefully chosen lexicon can make my spirit soar.

Conversely, the thought of a life without words, a world where expression is stifled, where stories are unwritten, and ideas remain trapped and untranslated, fills me with a profound sense of despair. Without them, life is barren. Imagine a landscape devoid of color, a symphony without sound, a conversation without meaning. That, to me, is a life without the richness that words provide.

It would be a silent, desolate existence, stripped bare of the nuances that define our humanity. How would we learn? How would we connect? How would we express love, grief, or triumph? Our history would be lost, our future unimaginable. The very essence of what makes us sentient, feeling beings would be muted, leaving behind only the hollow echo of what could have been.

So, yes, writing is my passion. But it’s because words are so much more than tools; they are the very lifeblood of meaning, connection, and transcendence. They are my anchors and my wings, the echoes of my soul, and the path to ecstasy. And for that, I am eternally grateful for every letter, every sentence, every story waiting to be told.

What about you? What are your words? What do they mean to you?

Third son of a Duke – The research behind the story – 6

All stories require some form of research, quite often to place a character in a place at a particular time, especially if it is in a historical context. This series will take you through what it was like in 1914 through 1916.

Navigating the Stratified Seas: Port Visits and Entertainment on Orient Line Voyages to Australia, 1910-1915

Abstract: This paper examines the arrangements for port visits and onboard entertainment for passengers travelling on Orient Line ships, such as the Orama, between Tilbury, England, and Australia from approximately 1910 to 1915. Focusing on the distinct experiences afforded by the three classes of travel – First, Second, and Third Class – it argues that the opportunities for shore excursions and the nature of leisure activities were profoundly shaped by the rigid social hierarchies of the Edwardian era. While First Class passengers enjoyed extensive freedom and curated luxury, Second Class experienced comfortable but less opulent arrangements, and Third Class passengers faced significant restrictions and basic provisions, reflecting their primary role as emigrants rather than tourists. Through analysis of contemporary brochures, travel accounts, and maritime historical records, this paper illuminates the stratified reality of long-distance sea travel during a pivotal period of global migration and imperial connection.

Keywords: Orient Line, Orama, Ocean Liner, Class System, Port Visits, Onboard Entertainment, Australia, 1910-1915, Maritime History, Social History.


1. Introduction: The Orient Line and the Journey to Australia

The early 20th century marked a zenith for ocean liner travel, particularly on the long-haul routes connecting Europe with distant corners of the British Empire. Among the most significant of these was the journey from Tilbury, England, to Australia, a lifeline for trade, mail, and, critically, emigration. The Orient Steam Navigation Company, commonly known as the Orient Line, was a prominent player on this route, operating a fleet of robust and increasingly luxurious vessels. Between 1910 and 1915, a period immediately preceding the transformative impact of World War I, ships like the Orama (launched 1911) and her “O-class” sisters (e.g., OtwayOrvietoOrsovaOrmonde) represented the cutting edge of passenger comfort and efficiency for their time.

These voyages, spanning six to eight weeks, presented both a logistical challenge and a social microcosm. Passengers, ranging from wealthy colonial administrators and holidaymakers to middle-class professionals and thousands of assisted emigrants, shared the same vessel but inhabited vastly different worlds within its hull. This paper seeks to explore the lived experience of these travellers specifically through two key lenses: the arrangements for visiting intermediate ports like Toulon and Naples, and the provision of entertainment for the duration of the voyage. Crucially, this examination will be conducted through the prism of the three distinct classes of travel, revealing how deeply embedded social stratification was in every aspect of the journey. The central argument is that the Orient Line, like other contemporary shipping companies, meticulously designed its services – both ashore and afloat – to cater to, and reinforce, the prevailing class distinctions of Edwardian society.

2. The Orient Line Fleet and the Three-Tiered Society at Sea

The Orient Line, established in 1877, earned a reputation for reliability and comfort on its Australia run. The “O-class” liners such as the 12,976-ton Orama were designed for this specific route, featuring robust construction, good speed (around 17 knots), and capacity for a diverse range of passengers. By the second decade of the 20th century, these ships typically carried around 400 First Class, 200 Second Class, and 700-800 Third Class passengers, alongside substantial cargo and mail (Isherwood, 1971; Greenway, 1986).

The differentiation between classes was stark, reflecting the societal structures onshore.

  • First Class (Saloon): Occupying the prime spaces of the ship, usually amidships, First Class passengers were typically the affluent elite: colonial administrators on leave, wealthy tourists, business magnates, and officers of the armed forces. They enjoyed expansive private cabins, often with en-suite facilities, and access to lavish public rooms including grand dining saloons, smoking rooms, music rooms, libraries, and dedicated promenade decks. Their journey was primarily one of luxury and social engagement.
  • Second Class: Positioned often in the stern or forward sections, Second Class catered to the burgeoning middle class: professionals, skilled tradespeople, government officials of a lower rank, and families with some means. While not as opulent as First Class, Second Class accommodations were considered comfortable and respectable, often featuring two- or four-berth cabins and access to their own dining saloon, smoking room, and drawing room. Their experience blended comfort with a more modest budget.
  • Third Class (Steerage/Intermediate/Tourist Third): The vast majority of passengers in Third Class were emigrants seeking new lives in Australia, often travelling on assisted passages. Their accommodation was basic and communal, typically comprising dormitories or large cabins with four to eight berths, often tiered. Public spaces were limited to a common dining room and designated deck areas. Privacy was minimal, and the focus of the journey was utilitarian – safe passage to their destination. This class also sometimes included seasonal workers or individuals travelling on the tightest budgets. The strict separation of classes was maintained through separate entrances, stairways, and designated deck areas, ensuring minimal interaction between the different social strata (Kent, 1999).

3. Arrangements for Visiting Ports: Toulon, Naples, and Beyond

The voyage from Tilbury to Australia involved numerous port calls, crucial for coaling, taking on provisions, mail, and allowing passengers a brief respite from shipboard life. Typical European calls included Gibraltar, Toulon, and Naples, before transiting the Suez Canal and making further stops in places like Colombo, Fremantle, Adelaide, Melbourne, and Sydney (Orient Line, 1910 Brochure). However, the arrangements and opportunities for going ashore varied dramatically by class.

3.1. First Class: Freedom, Luxury, and Curated Experiences

For First Class passengers, port calls were a highlight, offering opportunities for cultural immersion and luxury shopping. Upon arrival in ports like Toulon or Naples, Orient Line brochures advertised the availability of tenders to ferry passengers ashore. In these major European cities, First Class passengers enjoyed considerable freedom:

  • Guided Excursions or Independent Exploration: They could choose to join organised tours, often arranged by local agents in conjunction with the shipping line, which would include visits to prominent landmarks, museums, and historical sites. For instance, in Naples, tours would likely have included Pompeii, Vesuvius, or the National Archaeological Museum. Alternatively, they were free to arrange their own excursions, hire private carriages or early automobiles, or simply wander and shop.
  • Luxury and Comfort Ashore: It was common for First Class travellers to patronise high-end hotels for a meal or refreshments ashore, or to engage in shopping for souvenirs, local crafts, and luxury goods. The ship’s purser or a dedicated shore excursion officer would provide detailed information, maps, and recommendations.
  • Convenience: The ship’s staff would often handle arrangements for currency exchange and local transport, ensuring a seamless experience. The relatively short duration of port calls (often 6-12 hours) meant that efficiency was prized, and First Class passengers had the means to maximise their time ashore.

3.2. Second Class: Supervised Tours and Modest Exploration

Second Class passengers also had opportunities to go ashore, but their experience was typically more structured and budget-conscious.

  • Group Excursions: While some independent exploration was permitted, Second Class passengers were more likely to participate in organised group excursions, which were cheaper and offered a convenient way to see the main sights. These tours would often use public transport or hired charabancs (early buses) rather than private vehicles.
  • Limited Spending: Their shore activities generally involved more modest shopping and dining experiences. The ship’s information desk would still provide guidance, but the emphasis was on practical, affordable options.
  • Supervision and Time Constraints: While not as restricted as Third Class, Second Class passengers were generally expected to adhere to clearer time limits for returning to the ship, and their movements might be more informally overseen by the ship’s officers or tour guides.

3.3. Third Class: Restrictions, Supervision, and Labour

For Third Class passengers, particularly the large contingents of assisted emigrants, shore leave was a far more limited, and often non-existent, prospect in many ports.

  • No Shore Leave or Limited Access: In many instances, especially in European ports like Toulon or Naples, Third Class passengers were simply not permitted to disembark (Gardiner, 2013). This policy was driven by several factors: concerns about passengers overstaying their leave, potential health risks from crowded European cities, and the practicalities of managing hundreds of individuals with limited resources and often few funds. The primary objective for these passengers was to reach Australia.
  • Supervised Shore Leave (Rare): If shore leave was granted, it was heavily supervised and highly restrictive. Passengers might be allowed brief, organised walks near the dock area, often under the watchful eye of a ship’s officer or emigration agent. The focus would be on stretching legs and fresh air, rather than sightseeing or shopping.
  • Ship Duties: In some cases, male Third Class passengers might even be expected to assist with coaling operations or other duties if required, or at least remain on board while the ship was provisioned. Their time in port was seen less as leisure and more as part of the operational requirements of the voyage.
  • Sanitary Concerns: Concerns about infectious diseases also played a role. Allowing hundreds of individuals from the often-crowded Third Class areas to mix freely in foreign ports, and then return to the enclosed environment of the ship, was a significant public health consideration, especially given the lengthy quarantine regulations that awaited them in Australia.

In essence, while First Class passengers viewed ports like Toulon and Naples as gateways to European culture and leisure, Third Class passengers often saw them as mere waypoints, with little to no direct engagement beyond the ship’s rail.

4. Onboard Entertainment: Filling the Long Days at Sea

The long duration of the Tilbury-Australia voyage necessitated a wide array of entertainment and diversion to combat boredom and maintain passenger morale. As with port visits, the nature and quality of these activities were starkly differentiated by class.

4.1. First Class: The Social Calendar and Exclusive Amenities

First Class entertainment was sophisticated, organised, and aimed at fostering a vibrant social atmosphere among the elite.

  • Formal Social Events: Evenings were often dominated by formal dinners, followed by dances in the main saloon or music room. Fancy dress balls, often with themes, were popular events, offering a chance for passengers to showcase their wardrobes and wit.
  • Concerts and Lectures: Passenger talent shows, often featuring amateur musicians and singers from amongst the First Class, were common. Professional entertainers might also be carried on certain voyages. Lectures on topics of general interest, often delivered by learned passengers or the ship’s officers, provided intellectual stimulation.
  • Games and Sports: Deck games were a staple of daytime entertainment. Orama and her sisters would have designated deck space for quoits, shuffleboard, deck tennis, and cricket. Indoor games such as bridge, chess, and whist were played in dedicated card rooms or the smoking room. A gymnasium might be available, albeit basic by modern standards.
  • Reading and Writing: Extensive libraries, well-stocked with fiction, non-fiction, and daily newspapers (often printed onboard from wireless news bulletins), provided quiet recreation. Writing rooms were also provided for correspondence.
  • Fine Dining and Bar Service: Dining was an event in itself, with multiple courses, excellent wine lists, and attentive steward service. Smoking rooms, often panelled in rich woods, provided a masculine retreat where gentlemen could socialise over cigars and brandies.

4.2. Second Class: Comfortable Diversions and Self-Organised Fun

Second Class entertainment provided a comfortable, if less opulent, experience, often relying more on passenger initiative.

  • Deck Games: Similar deck games to First Class (quoits, shuffleboard) were available, though perhaps on less expansive or dedicated areas of the deck.
  • Communal Activities: Card games and board games were popular in the Second Class drawing room or lounge. Informal dances might be held, often with music provided by a passenger playing the piano.
  • Library and Reading: A smaller, but still respectable, library was available, along with writing facilities.
  • Less Formal Socialising: While Second Class had its own social hierarchy, events tended to be less formal and more spontaneous than in First Class. The focus was on comfortable interaction within a more modest communal setting.
  • Cinema: By 1910-1915, some liners were beginning to experiment with early cinematic presentations, which might have been offered to Second Class passengers as a special treat.

4.3. Third Class: Basic Provisions and Self-Directed Leisure

For Third Class passengers, the concept of “entertainment” was largely self-directed and utilitarian, focusing on making the long journey passable.

  • Deck Space: The primary form of recreation was access to dedicated open deck space, where passengers could walk, gather, and enjoy the fresh air. Children, in particular, would spend much of their time here.
  • Communal Areas: Indoor common rooms were generally sparse, serving primarily as dining halls. These spaces might double as areas for conversation, card games, or reading (if passengers brought their own books or could borrow from the ship’s limited supply, often aimed at improving literacy).
  • Emigrant Focus: The ship’s purser or a doctor might occasionally give informational talks about life in Australia, but these were educational rather than entertaining. The focus for many was on preparing for their new lives, with time spent discussing future prospects, learning English, or simply coping with the novelty and challenges of sea travel.
  • Limited Organised Activities: Formal organised entertainment was rare. There were no dedicated music rooms or ballrooms. Any singing or dancing would be spontaneous and informal, often generated by the passengers themselves. The ship’s crew had minimal interaction with Third Class passengers beyond basic service and enforcement of rules, meaning very little staff-led entertainment was provided.
  • Religious Services: For all classes, but particularly for Third Class, where morale could be a concern, Sunday religious services were often held, led by a ship’s officer or passenger if a chaplain was not onboard.

The distinct offerings underscored the Orient Line’s understanding of its market segments: First Class was sold on luxury and social prestige, Second Class on comfortable respectability, and Third Class on an affordable, if arduous, passage to a new life.

5. Conclusion: A Microcosm of Edwardian Hierarchy

The experience of travelling on an Orient Line vessel like the Orama between Tilbury and Australia from 1910 to 1915 was a microcosm of Edwardian social hierarchy. The arrangements for visiting ports such as Toulon and Naples, and the provision of onboard entertainment, were meticulously stratified, reflecting the rigid class distinctions of the era.

First Class passengers enjoyed unparalleled freedom, luxury, and curated experiences, both ashore and afloat. Their port visits were opportunities for sophisticated cultural engagement or independent exploration, facilitated by the ship and its agents. Onboard, a vibrant social calendar of formal events, games, and fine dining ensured a journey of ultimate comfort and diversion. Second Class passengers experienced a respectable and comfortable passage, with more structured but still enjoyable opportunities for shore excursions and a range of social activities, albeit on a less grand scale. Their options were a balance between convenience and budget.

In stark contrast, Third Class passengers, predominantly emigrants, faced significant restrictions. Shore leave in European ports was often denied or severely limited, a policy driven by logistical, health, and social control concerns. Onboard, entertainment was minimal and largely self-directed, reflecting the pragmatic and utilitarian nature of their voyage. Their journey was about purpose and passage rather than leisure.

This deep differentiation was not merely about cost; it was an ingrained social philosophy that permeated every aspect of ocean travel. The Orient Line, like its contemporaries, successfully navigated the dual demands of mass migration and luxury tourism by compartmentalising its services, ensuring that each class received an experience commensurate with its social standing and economic contribution. As the world teetered on the brink of significant change with the onset of World War I, these stratified voyages represented an enduring, yet soon to be challenged, model of global connectivity.