Pop-eyed at olive oil
Good Italian meals, it seems, are like buses; you wait ages for one then two come along at once.  Recently, on the same day, I enjoyed lunch from the celebrated hands of Giorgio Locatelli and dinner cooked by Alessandro Traverso.  Even the most half-hearted of foodies will know of Signor Locatelli from his Michelin-starred West End establishment, Locanda Locatelli, and his other popular restaurants.&nb

Love in a foreign climate
I'm a sucker for a good wedding (a bad one can be fun, too) so I was delighted that the centrepiece of my trip to The Philippines was the marriage of my boyfriend's sister.She and her husband were first hitched a few years ago, but they were young and penniless back then, so it was a tiny, civil affair.  They then moved to London where, even if the streets aren't paved with gold,

Fear in The Philippines is strictly from the birds
I'm back from my fortnight's tour of The Philippines, a beautiful, vibrant, chaotic country where every purchase is a bargain, the sun always shines and almost every face wears a smile.There's no such thing as paradise, however (although Paradise Island in Mindanao Province could certainly stake a claim), and the country has quite a reputation for crime, fairing badly in international compariso

TV ads to the sum of human knowledge
A sure fire way to discover the priorities and preoccupations of a nation is to watch its TV ads.I'm now in The Philippines where I've squeezed in a spot of telly amid the sun, sea, sand and sightseeing, from which I've learnt that its people worry about the colour of their underarms, lean towards hypochondria and don't understand milk.One oft-shown commercial is for a deodorant which not only stops sweat but also bleaches the armpits.  The attractive young woman featured is thrilled to be killing two birds with one roll-on.  Dark underarms are a complete no-no, it seems.  Women attend beauty parlours regularly to have that area of skin lightened. 

East is east and west is west. And Hong Kong is both
My two and a half days in Hong Kong have whizzed by faster than the city's ultra-reliable, sparkling-clean underground trains.Countless travel writers have described its chaotic, cacophonous wonderment better than I ever could, so I'll keep my observations brief.I've taken a near-vertical tram to its highest peak for a panoramic view of the stunning cityscape, and I've joined commuters on its old but indispensible Kowloon ferry.I've sampled its haute cuisine (and will long remember the juicy eel with its crisp, charred skin) whilst watching the nightly laser spectacular, played out on the skyscrapers across the harbour. I've dined at a modest, semi-legal