截至9月4日，这起震惊世界的灾难已造成中尼两国合计超过1280人死亡和5624人失踪，其中有853国际旅客或朝圣香客失联。

根据各方报道形容，这场灾难来得又急又猛：短短7分钟奔袭约22公里、最高时速甚至被形容达到400公里，破坏力堪比5级强烈地震；洪流夹杂巨石、冰雪与泥沙，短时间内横扫河谷，两旁村庄、道路与设施几乎来不及反应，连吉隆口岸部分建筑物也遭到严重破坏；最终泥石流停留在168公里外。

这是天灾，多少也有人祸的影子吧？这场灾难究竟与近年来全球暖化，以及极端气候变化有多大关系？其实专家早已不断警告：全球暖化带来的绝不只是“天气比较热”。

冰川消融、海平面上升、海洋升温、暴雨、洪水、泥石流、干旱、野火乃至烟霾，很多时候彼此环环相扣。

过去我们常说“百年一遇”的极端天气，如今似乎越来越不稀奇，甚至一年之内就可能在世界不同角落轮番上演。

自然不待共识

过去几个月，欧洲热浪与日本酷暑，已经不只是“不舒服”，而是足以夺命的天灾。欧洲也是全球暖化速度最快的地区之一，高温造成的死亡人数持续增加。

高温之后，往往紧接着长期干旱；干旱之后，野火风险自然大增。今年欧洲多国陆续发生严重森林大火，就连比利时高沼地区，也出现百年来罕见的大型野火，大面积林地付之一炬。

还有另一种更直接的人为因素——焚烧森林与农作物所造成的烟霾，对东南亚人来说几乎已经见怪不怪。

最近，砂拉越与巴生谷烟霾重临，空气中的细悬浮微粒（PM2.5）浓度升高，多地空气污染指数一度突破100点，进入“不健康”水平。8月13日，砂拉越西连的空气污染指数（API）达到178点、三马拉汉177点、古晋174点；巴生谷佐汉斯迪亚达到154点、蕉赖127点、莎阿南108点。

烟霾持续多日，对生活、健康乃至旅游活动都带来直接影响。

敲响旅游警钟

当然，我们不能把一场野火、雪崩或洪水，简单归咎于某一位政治人物或某一项政策。但当极端天气越来越极端，人类是否还要继续争论全球暖化“是真是假”，恐怕已经不是最重要的问题。

耐人寻味的是，美国总统特朗普至今仍质疑全球暖化，并推动美国退出《巴黎协定》。政治可以继续辩论，大自然却不会停下来等人类取得共识。

真正令人担心的，已经不是下一场灾难“会不会来”，而是“什么时候再来”？我们究竟还要经历多少场灾难才愿意认真面对？

对于旅游业而言，这一点尤其值得警惕。这些年来，异常天灾逐渐常态化，过去行程规划中看似只是“万一”的问题，如今越来越可能真正发生。天有不测风云，这句话永远没有错，所以旅游业者必须未雨绸缪。

所谓未雨绸缪，不是因为害怕天灾而不再出门，而是懂得敬畏大自然、做好准备以后，依然能安心地走天下。

The post 李桑 ‧ 天灾常态化 更要未雨文 appeared first on KITA 101.

我也顺势把问题抛回给他：“当然可以。不过在我动笔之前，不如你先给我介绍一下你的国家——基里巴斯？”

医生反问我：“你怎么会知道这个花生米大小的岛国？我们这里可没有TikTok上介绍的什么‘10大必看景点’，那你到底来看什么？”

这一问，我反而笑了。旅行走到后来，我越来越觉得，没有“10大景点”的地方，往往才更值得看。因为没有标准答案，看到什么就是什么。

这位医生是在斐济完成学业并取得专业资格的。基里巴斯由33个岛屿组成，其中32个为环礁，陆地总面积约811平方公里，人口约13万余。国内没有完整意义上的综合型大学，只有一些大专及区域大学的教学中心。因此，成绩优异的年轻人有机会获得奖学金，到斐济、澳洲、纽西兰等地继续深造。

不过，基里巴斯资源有限，经济长期依赖渔业收入、海外汇款以及国际援助，老百姓的日子谈不上富裕。
医生却自我调侃：“我们虽然不富裕，不过生在福中，会知福。”这句话，我记住了。

基里巴斯虽然麻雀虽小，却也五脏俱全。更“威水”的是，它还是地球上最早迎接新一天的国家之一。大家每逢跨年时，在电视新闻里看到全球最早高喊“Happy New Year”的地方，其中就有基里巴斯的Kiritimati——圣诞岛。

别以为同一个国家，距离就很近。

从首都Tarawa到Kiritimati，直线距离超过3000公里，横跨浩瀚太平洋，两地甚至还有２小时时差。一个人口不过十多万的岛国，国土却散布在超过300万平方公里的海域上——真正是“国小，海大”。

飞机降落Tarawa。走出机场，我的第一个印象是：这里真的是好“甘榜”啊！

简陋、朴素，而且拥挤。

尤其人口高度集中的South Tarawa，狭长的珊瑚岛上挤着数万人，一条主要道路贯穿东西，两旁就是民宅、商店、学校、政府机关。很多地方，左边几步是泻湖，右边不远就是太平洋。

医生的话的确有理。SIM卡柜台的服务员很乐意替我解决通讯问题；租车公司的阿姨甚至亲自载我去市区寻找落脚处；穿着制服的学生们看到我这个外国人，笑嘻嘻围过来一起拍照；Motel女主人还担心我吃不惯她儿子的厨艺，最后干脆自己下厨，为我准备了一顿简单西餐。

不管走到哪里，只要我开口一句“Excuse me”，迎来的十之八九都是一张笑眯眯的脸。

心富足

傍晚时分，天空突然打开水龙头，倾盆大雨说来就来。奇怪的是，路上的人几乎没人急着撑伞。穿校服的男女学生继续走，摩哆照样骑；踢足球的继续踢，看足球的继续看。还有一群年轻人干脆冲进雨里，淋得全身湿透，照样哈哈大笑。

只是，快乐归快乐，现实还是现实。

基里巴斯没有发行自己的流通货币，日常使用澳元。由于岛上资源有限，大量食品、日用品、建材、机器甚至燃油都依赖进口，运输成本层层叠加，物价自然便宜不到哪里去。大家是苦哈哈吧？

第二天，我走进一家浙江公司经营的中餐厅，与王经理聊了起来。原来，华人与基里巴斯的缘分并不浅。早在二战前后，已经有华人来到这里经商、落地生根，与当地人通婚，繁衍到第二代、第三代。其中最广为人知的，就是拥有华人血统、后来出任基里巴斯总统的汤安诺（Anote Tong）。

走在Tarawa，我也看到中国大使馆，建筑在当地环境中显得颇有气派。还有一家新开的旅馆，老板是三十多年前来到基里巴斯的华人。后来落地生根，与当地人通婚，如今生意遍布当地。聊下来可以感觉得到，在这个遥远的太平洋岛国，早年留下来的华人已经成为当地社会的一部分。

最有意思的一幕，却出现在一家华人经营的杂货店。我站在货架前，突然愣了一下——马来西亚制造的白咖啡、三合一奶茶、MILO，还有熟悉的福成饼干……哎哟哟！

在基里巴斯住了５天４晚，我看见低矮的珊瑚岛、拥挤的村落、破旧的道路、倾盆的大雨、海平面上升的隐忧；也看见学生的笑脸、陌生人的热心、华人在异乡落地生根的故事，以及一个并不富裕的民族，如何在太平洋中央继续过自己的日子。

See what I see。也许，这才是我来到基里巴斯真正想看的东西。这趟旅程，很有意义。

The post 李桑 ‧ 基里巴斯二三事 appeared first on KITA 101.

尤其是人口仅万余人的图瓦卢。这个陆地总面积只有26平方公里的岛国，几乎全境都是低洼土地，最高天然点不过海拔4至5米。

全球暖化、南北极冰山融化、厄尔尼诺现象、海平面上升，对我们而言也许只是新闻里的几个字；但对图瓦卢人来说，却是每天睁开眼睛，就在家门口看得见的现实。

海岸加固、填海造地、抬高地面，一项又一项工程正在进行。但任谁都晓得那只是治标不治本的工程，根本挡不了多久。其实，瑙鲁、马尔代夫、以及荷兰等低洼国家同样也面对了这窘境。

听起来像是天灾，其实背后又有多少人祸？

专家早已不断警告，全球暖化带来的并不只是“天气比较热”。冰川融化、海平面上升、海洋升温、雪崩、暴雨、洪水、土石流、干旱与野火、烟霾，彼此之间环环相扣。过去所谓“百年一遇”的极端天气，似乎越来越不稀奇了。

今年6月，我在多瑙河巡游时已经亲身感受到这种变化。匈牙利气温突然冲上摄氏38度，我和旅朋友走在布达佩斯街头，酷暑的已经有点招架不住。与此同时，法国、西班牙等西欧地区更出现超过40度的高温。

欧洲许多老建筑原本就是为寒冬保暖而设计，并没有完善的冷气设备。气候一变，原本的建筑优势反而成为弱点。世界卫生组织指出，欧洲是全球暖化速度最快的地区之一，过去4年已有超过20万人死于高温相关原因；尤以今年夏天更为炎热。

所以热浪或日本说的酷暑，已经不只是“不舒服”，而是会夺命的天灾。高温与长期干旱接踵而来的，就是野火。今年欧洲多国陆续发生严重森林大火，比利时HighFens地区更出现百年来罕见的大型野火，烧毁约30平方公里土地。当地泥炭土甚至会在地下继续闷烧，表面看似熄灭，火苗却可能重新窜出。

森林烧掉了，可以再种；但土壤、生态、水源与野生动物受到的破坏，却可能需要几十年才能恢复。

对于旅游业而言，这些年来异端天灾成常态化，尤其值得警惕。

过去带团，我们最担心的大概是飞机延误、塞车、酒店变质，最多加一句“天气因素”。今天已经完全不同了。

热浪可能使户外活动无法进行；干旱使得莱茵河、多瑙河河轮停驶；暴雨可能冲毁道路；洪水可以让机场关闭；台风会造成航班大面积取消；野火除了封路，烟霾还可能使整个地区空气污染；地震更不用说，几秒钟就足以让一个旅游目的地陷入瘫痪。

因此，旅游业也必须重新学习四个字——未雨绸缪。

旅行社设计路线时，不能只考虑景点好不好看、酒店够不够豪华，而必须把季节、气候、替代路线、医疗条件、交通中断及紧急撤离能力纳入风险评估。

领队与导游也不能只是会讲故事、点人数、带大家吃饭。发生天灾时，谁负责联系航空公司？谁掌握客人的护照资料？附近医院在哪里？陆路中断怎么办？手机没有讯号怎么办？团队里有没有长者、慢性病患者？

这些过去看起来属于“万一”的问题，如今越来越可能真的发生。

旅客本身也一样。旅游保险该买就买，重要证件最好备有电子副本；药物不要全部放进托运行李；前往高温地区要懂得补充水分。遇到台风、洪水、野火警告，更不要为了“来都来了”，硬闯已经关闭的景区。
行程可以少一个景点，生命却没有第二条。

这些年走过世界许多地方，我越来越觉得，旅游让我们看到的不只是风景，也让我们亲眼看到这个地球正在发生什么变化。图瓦卢人担心海水上涨；欧洲人开始害怕盛夏；森林面对野火，城市面对暴雨洪水，而环太平洋地区的人们，则始终与地震和海啸风险共存。

天有不测风云，这句话没有错。

不同的是，今天的科技已经让我们比过去更早知道风云将至。既然知道，就不能继续假装不知道。

面对越来越频密的极端天气，我们阻止不了台风登陆，也阻止不了地震发生，但政府、旅游业者与每一位旅行者，都可以把风险想在前面，把退路准备在前面。

所谓未雨绸缪，不是害怕出门。而是懂得敬畏大自然以后，依然安心地走天下。

The post 李桑 ‧ 走天下，更要敬畏天地 appeared first on KITA 101.

许多人第一次见都会纳闷：这样会有味道吗？答案是：会，而且还十分鲜美。

昆布经慢火加热后会缓缓释放天然鲜味（Umami），让汤底变得清甜且富层次，却不掩盖食材本身的风味。

随后，把薄切和牛、猪肉、鸡肉和海鲜，以及各种时令蔬菜轻轻涮几下，再蘸上芝麻酱或柚子醋，每一口都是食材最原始的鲜甜。

这正是日本料理的哲学——不是用浓烈调味去覆盖食材，而是尽量减少人工干预，把主角还给食材。

日本人常说：“引き算の美学（减法美学）”。无论是寿司、刺身、天妇罗，还是涮涮锅都贯彻同样的理念：少一点调味，多一点尊重；少一点复杂，多一点本味。

事实上，昆布是日料中最重要的食材之一。它很少成为主角，却是无数经典日式料理的灵魂。

它富含能带来鲜味的天然麸胺酸（Glutamate），因此日式高汤（出汁或Dashi）几乎离不开它。味噌汤、乌冬面、荞麦面、茶碗蒸、玉子烧，以及各种日式炖煮料理都能尝到昆布鲜味的身影。

日料鲜味之源

此外，便利店里的关东煮、昆布饭团和昆布便当，也是我每次飞抵日本后，最想品尝的疗愈食物（Comfort food）。昆布还可制成佃煮（Tsukudani），或与萝卜、竹轮、豆腐和魔芋一起炖煮，每种做法都各有风味。

前阵子，“李桑带队”走访北海道利尻岛与礼文岛，正好遇上7月昆布采收季。

我们亲身参与了昆布采集、分类和烘晒的过程，大伙终于真正明白：原来昆布就是海带，而一片看似平凡的海带，竟需要经过如此多工序，才能成为日本餐桌上的鲜味来源。

顺便一提，利尻岛出产的“利尻昆布”更被公认为日本顶级昆布之一。京都许多料亭、高级寿司店与怀石料理店都指定采用利尻昆布熬制出汁，只因它能呈现清澈、优雅、层次丰富的鲜味。

一片昆布，看似平凡，却默默支撑着日本料理的风味与文化。这也正是日本饮食最耐人寻味的地方。

The post 李桑 ‧ 日本昆布二三事 appeared first on KITA 101.

其实不少酿造葡萄酒的成熟葡萄，也同样采用机械采收。在澳洲与欧洲的葡萄庄园，这样的画面并不少见。

不过，小型而精致的樱桃园和葡萄园，以及苹果、梨、芒果和水蜜桃等果园，依然离不开人工采摘。因此纽西兰每年都会招聘海外青年到果园打工换宿，协助采收苹果。我年轻时也曾申请过，可惜被纽西兰拒绝了。

我记得21年前，第一次与台湾香格里拉休闲农场老板张清来见面时，他提起自家以前种植芭乐和甜柑。每逢盛产季节总得全国招兵买马，寻找工人帮忙采果。

后来，他参加日本农业考察团时，在一次交流会上看见“果物狩り”这几个日文汉字，觉得十分有趣。深入了解后才发现，原来就是开放果园，让游客亲自入园采摘水果。

这不仅解决了部分人力问题，更是一项兼具观光、体验与教育意义的经营模式。

贵在一份参与感

没错，张董正是全台湾第一位把芭乐、柑橘和芒果等果园开放给游客体验采摘的推手，而事实证明他这一步是走对了，也获得了极大的成功。

以前，一棵棵樱桃树挂满成熟果实，老农夫看了总是满心欢喜；如今面对高龄化和少子化，想到要一粒粒采下那些咖啡豆大小的樱桃，不免皱起眉头。毕竟，那真的是“粒粒皆辛苦”。

因此，如今日本不少果园，包括草莓园都发展出“果物狩り”的观光体验。当然，也有旅朋友笑着说：“直接去水果市场买，不用劳动，还更便宜。”哈哈哈，自己亲手采摘，图的本来就不是便宜，而是那份难得的新鲜体验。

我一直喜欢在“李桑带队”的旅程中，穿插一些有趣的“果物狩り”活动。今年夏天在北海道富良野体验蜜瓜采摘更是令人惊喜。虽然只是依照农夫指导亲手剪下蜜瓜藤，再被叮咛必须放置7天后才能品尝成果，但光是那一刻的参与感与期待就已经让人满心欢喜了。

The post 李桑 ‧ “果物狩り”之观光果园 appeared first on KITA 101.

Malaysians seldom use the word “Oceania”, yet the region is not really that far away from us. It stretches across the vast central and southern Pacific Ocean, encompassing Australia and New Zealand, then extending northward and eastward to countless islands, atolls and coral reefs scattered across the sea like tiny stars.

Those who enjoy history may know that a significant part of the Pacific region during World War II unfolded across these waters. Many islands that appear insignificant on today’s map were once military bases, airfields, ports or vital supply stations.

Some became fiercely contested battlegrounds between Japan and the United States, with tremendous casualties on both sides. One of the most famous was the Battle of Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands.

After World War II, many of Oceania’s small island territories gradually moved towards independence. Today, including Australia and New Zealand, there are 14 sovereign United Nations member states in Oceania.

Interestingly, 11 of them are members of the Commonwealth, just like Malaysia.

So, when you have some free time, look up Oceania on the world map. Of these 14 countries, how many have you actually heard of?

Here’s another question that some fellow travellers have asked me: The typhoons that sweep towards the Philippines, Okinawa in Japan, Taiwan, Hong Kong and southern China several times a year – including storms such as Bavi and Dolphin – do they originate somewhere out here in the Pacific?

The answer is yes, kind of.

The warm waters of the western North Pacific, particularly in the east of the Philippines, form one of the world’s most active regions for tropical cyclones. With high sea temperatures, abundant moisture and the right atmospheric conditions, tropical depressions can form and intensify into the typhoons we know so well, often travelling westward or towards the northwest.

For many Pacific Island nations, however, typhoons and torrential rains are only part of the story. Some areas also have earthquakes, volcanoes and tsunamis. Yet generations of islanders have grown up depending on the sea. They learn to “read” the sky, waves and tides, and to live alongside wind and rain.

Perhaps this is part of the unique philosophy of those who inhabit this great “Water World”.

Now for a little geography.

In the broad geographical and cultural sense, Oceania is commonly divided into four major regions.

The first is Australasia – principally Australia and New Zealand. Both countries have been strongly shaped by European settler cultures and are today the most economically developed nations in Oceania, with some of the region’s highest living standards.

The second is Melanesia, comprising Fiji, Papua New Guinea (PNG), the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu.

The Indigenous peoples of Melanesia generally have darker skin, but languages, cultures and traditions vary enormously from island to island.

In many parts of PNG, the ancient tradition of chewing betel nut remains a common part of modern, everyday life.

Fiji, meanwhile, has developed into one of the South Pacific’s important centres for commerce, healthcare, international education and air and sea transportation. Nadi in particular is a major aviation hub connecting the Pacific islands with the outside world.

Fiji also has a substantial Indo-Fijian population, whose ancestors largely arrived during the British colonial period, many as indentured labourers from the Indian subcontinent.

In Vanuatu, there is the extraordinary traditional ritual of Naghol, or land diving, where men leap from tall wooden towers with vines tied around their ankles. It is often cited as one of the cultural inspirations behind modern bungee jumping.

The third region is Micronesia, which includes the Federated States of Micronesia, Kiribati, the Marshall Islands, Nauru and Palau.

Among them, Kiribati probably makes the most interesting geographical conversation. This country of 33 islands and atolls straddles the Equator and has territory on both sides of the traditional 180° meridian. It is therefore often described as the only country spanning all four hemispheres.

Its islands are scattered across an enormous ocean area of roughly 3.5mil sq km, yet its total land area is only about 810sq km.

Then there is Nauru, with a land area of only 21sq km, making it the world’s smallest island republic and one of the smallest sovereign states. A visa is required for many visitors, and getting one is not always easy.

Palau, on the other hand, is a diver’s paradise. Among its best-known natural attractions is the famous Jellyfish Lake.

The fourth region is Polynesia. If we speak only of the independent island nations in this part of the Pacific, they include Samoa, Tonga and Tuvalu.

But Polynesia in the broader geographical and cultural sense extends much farther, encompassing places such as the Cook Islands and Niue, which are self-governing states in free association with New Zealand, as well as French Polynesia and American Samoa.

Polynesians often have a strong build, with skin tones ranging from brown to darker shades, and their traditional cultures remain very much alive. A woman wearing a flower behind her ear is one of those wonderfully familiar South Pacific images.

English is also widely spoken throughout much of the region. During my own journey through the region, I was particularly impressed by the cleanliness of Apia, the capital of Samoa, and its roads.

Tonga is especially fascinating. It is the only Indigenous monarchy in the Pacific islands that has survived continuously into the modern era, and today, it remains a constitutional monarchy.

Then there is Tuvalu, which is extraordinary in an entirely different way: the whole country has only 26sq km of land and a population of roughly 11,000 people.

If you truly want to understand this enormous, far-flung corner of the world, I don’t think staring at a map is enough.

You have to go there yourself – island to island, flight after flight – exploring places that remain unknown to most travellers. Only then will you begin to understand what life there is really like today.

European colonial powers ruled various Pacific Islands for generations, leaving behind political and economic systems, infrastructure and architecture, education, healthcare, languages and religion. After independence, some island nations retained much of that legacy.

Some kept only parts of it, while others deliberately restored greater prominence to Indigenous traditions and values as national identity strengthened.

There is also a very practical reality. These tiny island nations have small markets, limited populations, remote transport links and restricted land and industrial resources. Fuel, machinery, medicines and even much of their food often have to be imported.

And so you encounter a strange contradiction: the economies may be small and local wages surprisingly low, yet prices can be frighteningly high.

It is therefore wise to carry some cash when travelling through the islands. But currencies vary from country to country. The Australian dollar is useful in several Pacific destinations, though certainly not universally accepted throughout Oceania.

Of course, the economic circumstances of these island nations are far from identical. Some depend heavily on tourism, while others rely on fishing licences, remittances, phosphate resources, foreign aid or international partnerships.

It would therefore be unfair to simply label them all as “poor countries”.

As the old Chinese saying goes: When circumstances leave you with no choice, you change; once you change, a way forward appears.

After travelling from island to island, however, what I have come to appreciate most are the people.

Resources may be limited and choices may be few, but life goes on.

Standing before a Pacific Ocean so immense that there seems to be no end to it, the islanders still greet you with an easy smile and genuine friendliness.

Perhaps, after all, that is where the true wealth of these islands lies.

The post Oceania, From one island to another appeared first on KITA 101.

As someone who has spent much of his life travelling, I have stayed in hotels of every brand and category imaginable – from backpacker hostels and homestays to boutique hotels, five-star properties, and even some of the world’s finest luxury resorts.

Few experiences have shaped my travels as profoundly as the places I have chosen to stay.

The old saying, “You get what you pay for” certainly holds true.

Yet whether one operates a modest guesthouse, family-run inn, city hotel or an expansive luxury resort, I have always believed that every hotelier understands their own positioning, pricing and standards. And, of course, the type of guests they hope to welcome.

Every hotel out there has a distinct personality, and each offers something different. The one thing they all have in common, however, is the hope that when guests check out they leave thinking, “I’d love to come back.”

One hotel group that has risen rapidly in China in recent years is Atour Hotels. It has earned a reputation for delivering consistently balanced quality across its portfolio.

From its standard three-star hotels to the upscale Atour X series, the experience remains dependable.

The brand’s greatest strength lies in its site selection. Most of its properties are located in vibrant neighbourhoods with excellent transport connections, allowing guests to immerse themselves in local life.

Perhaps Atour’s best-known feature is its proprietary “sleep system”, where every pillow, mattress and piece of bedding has been developed with sleep science in mind.

What impresses me even more is the way Atour incorporates local culture into their breakfast menu. In Beijing, guests can enjoy Zhajiang noodles, while in Xi’an, it’s the famous Biang Biang noodles. In Tibet, you can try traditional butter tea.

Each property makes an effort to feature regional ingredients and local flavours. In doing so, the hotel becomes more than a place to stay – it becomes the first gateway to understanding a destination.

There is another thoughtful touch that is easy to overlook but leaves a lasting impression. Every evening at 9pm, guests are offered complimentary snacks.

It may be no more than a simple bowl of porridge, noodles, or a few local delicacies, yet for travellers returning after a long day of sightseeing, it provides a comforting feeling of home. Hospitality like this is often remembered far longer than a beautiful hotel lobby.

Japan’s rapidly expanding Dormy Inn & Kyoritsu Resort Group has embraced a similar philosophy. Across nearly all of its properties, guests are treated to complimentary Yonaki ramen every evening at 9.30pm.

The serving is modest, but satisfying enough. Whenever I stay at one of their hotels, I make sure to eat this comforting bowl of ramen.

When staying at a hotel, even for just one night, quality matters. Perhaps it is an occupational habit, but as a professional tour leader, I cannot resist observing the details of a hotel.

From how guests are greeted at reception and the flow of the guest room, to the lighting, and even landscaping, I quietly find myself assigning a score to each item and experience.

Globally, international hotel groups such as Marriott, Hilton, IHG and Accor have built extensive brand portfolios covering every market segment – from economy and business hotels to luxury and ultra-luxury properties.

Their sophisticated membership and loyalty programmes encourage guests to return time and again. Staying with these brands usually guarantees consistency and reliability. Things seldom go wrong.

Yet, perhaps because they have perfected this “standardisation”, they occasionally sacrifice a little of the individuality that makes a hotel truly unforgettable.

In recent years, however, I have found myself increasingly drawn to Aman.

My first stay at Amandayan in Lijiang, China left a profound impression on me. I was captivated by its philosophy of respecting nature while embracing local culture.

Rather than displaying luxury in an obvious or extravagant manner, the resort seamlessly blends Naxi architecture, cultural heritage and landscapes into one harmonious whole.

Just a few weeks ago, I had the privilege of staying at Amanemu in Japan’s Mie Prefecture. It is the world’s first Aman resort featuring natural hot springs. Hidden within Ise-Shima National Park, the property occupies an area equivalent to five Tokyo Domes, yet accommodates only 32 suites.

And each one comes with its own private onsen.

What’s more memorable to me is the signature Aman style of service. I was told that the staff-to-suite ratio is close to three-to-one. Receptionists, restaurant servers and even gardeners seemed to know who I was as they greeted me by name, yet it never felt intrusive.

They also seemed to appear when needed and then quietly disappear once they’ve done their tasks, allowing guests to enjoy their freedom and space.

This sense of timing and restraint is perhaps the most difficult aspect of hospitality to master.

The Aman group has also perfected the art of integrating local culture into every aspect of a guest’s experience – from architecture and cuisine to wellness programmes and activities within the resort.

The first Aman resort, Amanpuri in Phuket, Thailand was founded in 1988 by legendary Indonesia-born hotelier Adrian Zecha. Ownership later changed hands in 2007 when India’s DLF Group acquired the company, before Zecha and his partners successfully bought it back in 2014.

Two years after that, Russian entrepreneur Vladislav Doronin became the sole owner of the company and has continued to lead the brand ever since. Today, Aman has expanded to 36 resorts and urban hotels across the globe.

Despite these changes, Aman has remained unwavering in its philosophy: nature as its foundation, culture as its soul and understated luxury as its defining aesthetic.

A good friend of mine, Doreen, who is the director of sales and marketing at a luxury resort in Xishuangbanna, China once told me that “… Aman is a hotel brand that never needs advertising. Working for Aman is the dream of almost everyone in the hospitality industry.”

This October, I will be leading a group to Bhutan, where we will stay at three different Aman properties across the kingdom. I look forward to experiencing more deeply the culture of Tibetan Buddhism and the spirit of the Himalayas.

Travel is not just about admiring beautiful sceneries, nor is it merely about sleeping in a comfortable bed. A thoughtfully managed hotel leaves travellers with far more than comfort – it offers the warmth of a city, the memory of a culture, and a deeper understanding of the place itself.

To me, every hotel stay is an exploration of the aesthetics of living and the philosophy of travel. When a meaningful connection is formed between people and place, even a single night’s stay becomes one of the most treasured moments of the journey.

The post Checking in, enjoying life appeared first on KITA 101.

倘若此刻的你，正身在北海道美锳四季彩之丘，或富良野富田薰衣草园，相信一定能深深体会这句话的份量。

七月盛夏，美锳最动人的，不只是花，而是人们追逐色彩与绚丽的身影。白、红、紫、蓝……至于花叫什么名字，反而没那么重要；因为眼前绽放的，不只是花，更是每个人脸上的笑容。

我坐在帐篷下，看着人来人往，世界各地的游客齐聚于此，仿佛一个小小的联合国，热闹非凡。顺手算了一笔账：四季彩之丘门票800日圆（约20令吉），再租一辆电动车约100令吉，吃顿简餐约50令吉，加上冰淇淋、饮料等零食又约50令吉，临走前再买些伴手礼，少说也要50～100令吉。这只是粗略估算，多一点、少一点都无妨。若以每天5000名游客、旺季30天来计算，这座花园创造的经济效益着实惊人。不得不佩服园主的眼光，当别人种马铃薯、种小麦时，他却种出一整片花海，也种出一门成功的观光产业。

现在，你就会明白，追花，追的其实是季节更迭的召唤。

北海道的花田未必是世界上最壮观的，但它却最懂得把一朵花、一片花田、一个季节，经营成一种文化、一种生活方式，更是一门成功的旅游产业。

不愿错过生命中最美那几天

放眼世界，许多原本默默无闻的小镇，都因为一年一度的花季，而蜕变成国际知名的旅游胜地。

花卉旅游并不是新概念，但真正成为人们专程出发的旅行理由，不过是近三十多年的事。过去，人们旅行是为了名山大川、历史古迹；如今，越来越多人愿意为了一个花季、一片花海，飞越千山万水，只为赴一场与季节的约会。

如果说，日本是世界上最懂得把四季经营成花卉旅行目的地的国家，我一点也不觉得夸张。

春天，有举世闻名的樱花；四月，有富士山脚下五十万株芝樱，以及茨城县国营常陆海滨公园五百多万株粉蝶花，把整片山丘染成梦幻的蔚蓝；夏天，有富良野薰衣草与美锳彩虹花田；秋天，有漫山红叶与金黄银杏；冬天，则有雪国银白世界。日本几乎把一年四季，都经营成不同主题的旅游品牌。

如今，人们不再只是为了名胜古迹而远行，而是愿意随着一朵花的盛开，跨越山海，奔赴一场只有几周，甚至只有几天的花期。花开有时也让旅行多了一份稍纵即逝的珍贵。正因为花期短暂，我们才更愿意为它出发。

因为旅行，很多时候，不是为了看见花，而是为了不错过生命中最美的那几天。

The post 李桑：世界因花而相逢 appeared first on KITA 101.

我的答案几乎也都一样：如果只看汇率，确实是近年来最划算的时候。这句话，说来简单，却藏着日本三十多年经济变化的缩影，其中也隐藏着许多家庭的辛酸苦辣。

1991年我到日本留学。那时候，一美元兑换130日圆，大约是2.05令吉。

到了1996年毕业前后，日圆一路升值，一美元甚至只剩约80日圆。当时日圆被视为世界强势货币之一。那几年市道繁荣昌盛，也是“跳日本飞机”最高潮时期；非正式统计，单是马来西亚就有3万人。

当年我半工读在拉面店打洗碗工，时薪约700日圆；因为东西便宜，所以维持留学日常开销绰绰有余。

我们来看看1美元兑换日圆的跌宕起伏：1986年162日圆；1991年130日圆；1995年80日圆；2011年75.57日圆；2016年100日圆。

谁也没想到，40年后的今天，汇率情况完全反转。2026年7月份的日圆，一美元兑162.8日圆，创新低纪录。

虽然如今同样一间拉面店的时薪已提高到1200至1350日圆，但这点工资增长远远追不上购买力的下滑，实际生活压力反而更沉重，生活质素也每况愈下。

对于外国游客来说，这无疑是一份从天而降的“旅游大礼包”。尤其来自台湾、新加坡、澳洲、美国、欧盟等货币相对强势地区的游客，更能明显感受到日圆贬值带来的优势。

过去住一晚两三万日圆的温泉旅馆，总觉得价格不低；如今即使房价上涨了100%，换算成自己的货币后，倒觉得心理负担反而减轻了。所以高级寿司、神户牛、怀石料理，以前或许只是尝鲜一次，现在虽然涨了一倍价但是不少旅客都会豪气地说：既然来了，就吃最好的。

走进药妆店、电器店、名牌精品店，鞋店，购物车依然塞得满满，再加上即买即免税制度，不少商品甚至比许多国家还便宜。

然而，当外国游客开心消费时，日本老百姓面对的，却是另一种现实。日本能源、粮食以及大量工业原料高度依赖进口。一旦日圆走弱，再加上美以伊战争持续，严重导致进口成本上升；汽油、电费、天然气，以及牛奶、鸡蛋、咖啡、面包等民生物资，几乎样样涨价。

过去，日本一直被誉为“几十年不涨价的国家”。像国民小食牛丼，曾经多年维持低价，是日本物价稳定的象征。如今，各大零售品牌也不得不多次调涨售价，超市里的白米与食品价格标签不断更新。而在便利店货架上的商品简直是成了“天价”；320ml罐装饮料现在是170日圆以上。

不少日本朋友告诉我，如今他们都往Costco大型超商去逛；因为Costco会帮家庭消费者着想。只是，每次看见当地人认真比较每一样商品价格时，我都会提醒自己：我们觉得便宜，是因为汇率；他们觉得辛苦，是因为生活。

日圆贬值的另一项明显变化，则是日本人越来越少出国旅行，也越来越少选择海外留学。三四十年前，日本游客几乎遍布全世界，消费力惊人；如今，拥有护照的日本人，仅约占全国人口的17%。

曾经“买遍全世界”的日本，如今却成了“迎接全世界”。这是近几年最耐人寻味的一种角色转换。

当然，弱势日圆并非全然没有好处。像丰田、任天堂、索尼等大型出口企业，由于海外收入兑换回更多日圆，大企业获利后，自家股价也大涨。不过，日本制造业早已将不少生产基地移往海外，因此日圆贬值带来的红利，已经不像三十年前那样明显。

讽刺的是，国内的中小型企业的倒闭破产数在不断攀升，失业率随着而来；恐怕离婚率也会增加。

看来真正受惠最深的，还是观光产业。日本政府甚至上探2030年达到6000入境游客人次的宏愿。2025年则是4280万人次。

游客带来了消费，也带来了新的烦恼，其中直接推高旅游商品价格以外，游客更是干扰了老百姓的日常。这是日本旅游业成功之后，必须面对的新课题。如今日本人对外国游客的反感度已经是达到了沸腾的界限。

所以如果只看汇率，日本的确是便宜；但却贵了日本人的生活。放眼整个日本社会，他们承担的是不断上涨的成本，这让不少日本人沉默了。

日本人也在问：难道政府真的无法阻止日圆继续贬值吗？其实政府并非毫无作为，例如曾动用约800亿美元进场干预、扶持日圆，却依然徒劳无功。原因在于，日本长期维持接近零至1%的低利率，资金不断流向利率约4%的美国市场，国内资金外流，国库承压。另一方面，日本央行又不敢贸然大幅升息，因为日本政府总债务规模已相当于GDP的260%，一旦利率上升，庞大的利息支出足以令财政喘不过气，更遑论主动加息。

其实，我还是希望有一天，日圆能够重新回归稳定。因为一个国家真正的竞争力，不应该建立在货币持续贬值之上，而应该建立在人民能够安心生活、维持区域政经贸稳定基础之上。

旅行，让我们看见风景；而汇率，却让我们看见一个国家真实的处境与忧虑。

值得关注：
1）1978年日本承担驻日美军驻留费用，仅约62亿日圆；如今是每年承担约2110亿日圆。
2）1995年世界500强企业中日本有149家。到了2025年，却只剩38家。
3）根据OECD以固定物价及购买力平价计算的数据，日本全职雇员平均年薪，长期停滞：1991年约50787美元；2025年约50183美元。

The post 李桑 ‧ 日元一路跌，日本一路撑 appeared first on KITA 101.

My answer is almost always the same: “If you’re looking only at the exchange rate, then yes. This is probably one of the most affordable times to visit Japan in recent years.”

It sounds like a simple answer, but behind it lies the story of more than three decades of economic transformation in Japan – and the quiet struggles of countless Japanese families.

I first arrived in Japan as an international student in 1991. At the time, US$1 equalled to around ¥130. By the time I graduated in 1996, the yen had strengthened dramatically, reaching around ¥80 to the dollar.

Back then, the Japanese yen was regarded as one of the world’s strongest currencies. Those were the “boom years” when Japan’s economy was thriving.

As a student, I worked part-time washing dishes at a ramen shop, earning about ¥700 an hour. Living costs were still relatively affordable, and my wages were more than enough to cover my daily expenses.

Looking back, the yen’s journey had been remarkable: in 1986 it was ¥162 per US$1; in 1991, ¥130; 1995, ¥80; 2011, ¥75.57; and in 2016, ¥100.

Few could have imagined that 40 years later the situation would actually be in reverse. In July 2026, the exchange rate reached a record ¥162.8 to US$1 (or RM4.10).

Today, that same ramen shop pays between ¥1,200 (RM30) and ¥1,350 (RM34) an hour. Yet wage increases have failed to keep pace with the decline in purchasing power. For many Japanese workers, life has become more difficult despite earning more on paper, and their standard of living continues to deteriorate.

For overseas visitors, however, the weak yen has become an unexpected travel windfall. Travellers from Taiwan, Singapore, Australia, the United States, and the European Union – whose currencies are relatively stronger – feel the benefits most clearly.

A luxury hot spring ryokan that once charged ¥20,000 to ¥30,000 a night used to seem expensive. Today, even if room rates have doubled, the favourable exchange rate often makes the cost feel surprisingly reasonable (RM501 to RM752 for the above prices).

The same applies to premium sushi, Kobe beef, and traditional kaiseki cuisine. What used to be a once-in-a-lifetime indulgence has become an experience many visitors willingly splurge on.

“Since we’re already here, let’s have the best,” they say.

Drugstores, electronics retailers, luxury boutiques, and shoe stores remain packed with foreign shoppers. Combined with Japan’s tax-free shopping system, many products are now cheaper than in their home countries.

But while foreign tourists happily spend, ordinary Japanese families face a very different reality.

Japan depends heavily on imports for energy, food, and industrial raw materials. When the yen weakens – especially against the backdrop of continuing geopolitical tensions and conflicts in West Asia – import costs inevitably rise.

Fuel, electricity, natural gas, milk, eggs, coffee, bread, and many other daily necessities have all become noticeably more expensive.

For decades, Japan was famous as the country where prices rarely increased.

Gyudon, the nation’s iconic beef bowl, remained inexpensive for years and symbolised Japan’s stable prices. Today, however, even major restaurant chains and retailers have repeatedly raised prices. Supermarkets constantly update price tags on rice and other groceries, while convenience stores now sell a simple 320ml canned drink for well over ¥170 (RM4.20).

Many of my Japanese friends tell me they now prefer shopping at Costco because it offers better value for families.

Whenever I see local shoppers carefully comparing prices item by item, I remind myself of one thing: We think Japan is cheap because of the exchange rate. They feel life is becoming harder because they actually live here.

Another visible consequence of the weak yen is that fewer Japanese are travelling overseas or studying abroad.

Thirty or 40 years ago, Japa-nese tourists could be found almost everywhere in the world, famous for their remarkable spending power. Today, only around 17% of Japan’s population holds a valid passport.

The country that once “bought the world” has gradually become one that “welcomes the world”.

It is one of the most fascinating role reversals of modern Japan.

Of course, a weaker yen is not entirely negative.

Major exporters such as Toyota, Nintendo, and Sony benefit because overseas earnings translate into more yen when converted back home, boosting profits and stock prices.

However, much of Japan’s manufacturing has already moved overseas. As a result, the benefits of a weaker currency are far less significant than they were 30 years ago.

Ironically, bankruptcies among small and medium-sized enterprises continue to rise, bringing higher unemployment in their wake. Some even worry that economic stress could eventually contribute to higher divorce rates.

Perhaps the greatest beneficiary of all remains Japan’s tourism industry.

The Japanese government has set an ambitious target of attracting 60 million international visitors annually by 2030. In 2025, the country welcomed a record 42.8 million foreign visitors.

Tourists bring spending – but also new challenges.

Beyond driving up prices in tourist destinations, overtourism increasingly disrupts the daily lives of local residents. It has become one of the biggest issues Japan must confront as its tourism industry continues to grow.

Public frustration toward foreign visitors has become increasingly noticeable in many parts of the country.

So yes, Japan may seem “cheaper” now because of the exchange rate. But for many Japanese people, life has become considerably more expensive.

Across the country, households continue to shoulder rising costs, often in silence.

Many Japanese also ask, “Why can’t the government stop the yen from falling?”

The truth is, it has tried.

Japan has spent roughly US$80bil (RM326.97bil) intervening in currency markets to support the yen, but with limited success.

The deeper problem lies in Japan’s prolonged ultra-low interest rates – close to zero or around 1% – while US interest rates remain around 4%. Naturally, capital flows toward higher returns overseas, draining domestic funds.

At the same time, the Bank of Japan cannot aggressively raise interest rates because the country’s total public debt has reached around 260% of GDP. Any substantial rate hike would dramatically increase interest payments, placing enormous pressure on government finances.

Personally, I still hope that one day the yen can regain long-term stability.

After all, a nation’s true competitiveness should never depend on a continually weakening currency. It should rest on something far more fundamental: giving its people the confidence to live securely while maintaining long-term political, economic, and regional stability.

Travel allows us to appreciate beautiful landscapes.

Exchange rates, however, reveal the realities – and anxieties – of an entire nation.

Published in The Star, 25 Jul 2026

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