I was at a lunch hosted by Thuringia Province, Germany, a couple of days ago at the Fairmont Royal York in Toronto. This area of former East Germany (Thuringia, not the Royal York Hotel) is off the main tourist track and a cool and groovy place. I’ve visited a couple of times, staying at the monastery where Martin Luther once studied, floating in a rave-inspired spa called Bad Sulza where you listen to music underwater and doing Kneipp spa therapy in the gently-faded town of Tabarz.

Tabarz - a good place to spa

Of course at lunch the talk was all about Germany. We travel writers are very professional that way. At least in our hearts we were talking about Germany. While I was discussing Germany with two other travel writers, another writer broke in, “Oh, do you watch the Bachelor?” Somehow our conversation had turned to Bachelor Jake and his top-flame Vienna (of course he’s going to pick Vienna) and St Lucia, which is making the most of the publicity they’re getting from the sexy island shots in the last episode.

It is mortifying to be caught talking about the Bachelor, but I quickly saved with, “We’re discussing what a good hook it is for a story.” It may have been a lame cover-up to hide my shallow reality-watching TV evenings, but it’s true. The Bachelor makes an irresistible hook for an article (a hook is the angle that will grab a reader).

When it comes to travel, the Bachelor gets around. (Okay, when it comes to making out, he gets around even more.) Previously, I’ve blogged about the singles Bachelor trip to New Zealand with Jason and Molly, and today my article  in the Toronto Star relives my experience of reliving Bachelorette Season 4, when DeAnna and Jesse rode horses on Grand Bahama Island. It was a total fluke – I’d had no idea the horse trek offered by Trikk Pony had any Bachelorette history. In fact, as mentioned in my article, I’d originally thought I’d be swimming with seahorses, not swimming with horses in the sea.

Where's the water?

Going in

It's a seahorse!

Meanwhile Michele Peterson, one of the writers I was dishing Bach gossip with at the lunch, is making the most of the Bachelor in St Lucia with her Examiner piece The Bachelor seduces Toronto. I know, the title says Toronto, but it’s really about St Lucia. Written for Torontonians. Don’t worry, if you’re not from Toronto you can still read it. We travel writers are very magnanimous that way.

I Think I'm Here

Okay, physically I’m in Toronto. I know that because the view out of my window shows highrises and trees with dingy gold coloured leaves ready to fall. Mentally, I’m still on the island of Grand Bahama thinking about pirate treasure and the burial sites of the Lucayan people who onced lived here. There. Whatever.

My Head is Here

At the same time I’m thinking about Switzerland where I’m next heading and trying to plan spa treatments in Lausanne (oh, poor me!), thinking about the history of Switzerland in the Olympics, and wondering what the heck to wear to a Swiss fasion show and after party. And how to get a window seat when I’m told British Airways won’t let you book your seat in advance. Is that true? I think I’d better check it out for myself.

Normally I like to give myself two weeks at least between trips, but it doesn’t always happen that way. When a good destination comes up, how can you turn it down? But it messes with your head and your body. Travel is exhausting, even if I did carefully avoid the shots-of rum-at-two-in-the-morning-on-the-beach activities.

The worst cross-over between destinations was when I was staying at the Four Seasons Tented Camp at the Golden Triangle where Thailand, Burma and Laos meet. An editor suddenly wanted a rewrite of a story I’d just done on Puerto Rico. So I was riding elephants in the jungle by day, and doing all-nighters writing about Puerto Rico at night. That really sucked, because I was only given two days at the tent camp and didn’t want to spend half of it in Puerto Rico.

They say a soul travels at the speed of a trotting camel, and you know what, I think they’re right. At that rate, I should be back from the Bahamas just in time to catch my flight to Geneva.

Can I photoshop a tan?

This Beach is Mine!

Ended the day with a fish fry (except I ate broiled lobster) and dancing under the moon. To really bad pop music by a speaker so loud my ears are ringing. Can I claim medical disability?

Where's the Lobster?

A story is starting to take shape in my mind. Slowly. Verrrry slowly. Why can’t I be a fast writer? Maybe I need to drink more blue drinks …

Does this match my dress?

Blue, blue, my drink is blue … Rebecca, one of the writers on my Grand Bahamas trip likes to coordinate at all times.

Tomorrow is my last day here. How could it go so quickly?

What a view!

The view from my hotel, the Radisson Our Lucaya, is great but I still have no story. Yesterday I did a driving tour and went to the Garden of the Groves, but still have no story. Starting to panic. The beach is one of those white flour beaches, the island is warm, flat and green (but maybe it’s going to rain today – hope not), plus I ate lobster lat night but still have no …. well, you get the idea.

Today I will find my story.

“I’m only taking inaugural flights from now on,” says the woman behind me on the bus from the airport to our hotel in Freeport, Bahamas.

Welcome to the Bahamas!

Who can blame her? From the belly-shaking dancers at Pearson to the champagne with orange juice and our red carpet arrival, WestJet’s inaugural flight to Freeport, Bahamas was a festive occasion. The most embarrassing moment was when we landed and the flight attendant announced that passengers had to wait to disembark while the dignitaries got off first. I’m looking around for those annoying pompous dignitaries and realized that one of them was me! I slunk off the plane and made my way down a red carpet shaking hands with all kind of island important people. Do we still do handshake lines with Swine Flu?

Red Carpet Treatment

The best part were the dancers and rocking drum beats and percussion. I couldn’t hear anything anyone was saying, but I loved the beat.

Let's Dance!

Then there were speeches and punch on the veranda at the airport, and I still couldn’t hear anything, because of all the planes rumbling around. Didn’t anyone tell the organizers that airport runways are loud?

The best part of the inaugural flight is that it landed in Freeport, Bahamas. Warmth, sun and fresh sea air. What can be better than that? WestJet will fly between Toronto and Freeport twice a week until April 30, 2010. Direct! Yay! Three hours and no crappy transfers or stops.