Travel Advisory
It's that time of the year when a holiday seems essential. The footy's finished, Darth Vader's weird little brother Tony has taken over the country, and your drug dealer has booked himself into a Buddhist meditation retreat. Time to get out of town. And let's face it, no-one wants the same old same old when it comes to holidays. Please don't try to get me to Ulan Bator again. I do not want to stay in a Yurt. I will not sleep in something that sounds like someone has misspelled a dairy product. Yurt. I feel like I've been cornered by a rabid goblin travel agent channelling Dr Seuss - Hey Burt, don't be so curt, would it really hurt, to stay in a yurt. Besides, I want something new. Jeremy and Claire went to the North Pole for a fortnight and died. I mean it cost them a fortune, but they'll never have a holiday like it again. Nothing will top that. Except if you visit my close personal friends at M. Polo & Sons, Travel Agents to the terminally