Type of accommodation

If you want to try AirBnB you have several accommodation options.

You can rent a room in the owner’s own home. This is rather like traditional “bed and breakfast” in the UK. The main difference is that breakfast won’t be provided (though you may be able to prepare food you’ve brought yourself in the kitchen).

You can rent a room in shared accommodation where the owner doesn’t live.

You can also rent a whole apartment, which is my preferred option (as you’ll see from the tips below).

Whole apartments may be the owners’ main home, vacated for parts of the year to make some extra money. It could be a second property they’ve come into. It could be that the owner has several AirBnB apartment across the city. The business could be even a number of self-contained apartments in the same building.

Why I like it

One reason I like AirBnB because it feels more of an independent traveller, “insider” experience than you get staying at a hotel.

Another great plus is the bottom line. Just like “bed and breakfast” in the UK, renting a room in the owner’s home is likely to be quite a bit cheaper than taking a hotel room for the night.

If you rent a whole apartment, it could still work out cheaper than just a room in a hotel but it depends on the local market. Either way, you’re likely to have more space and autonomy and won’t feel so much “like a tourist”.

Beginning your search

Enter the city or other locality and dates. You apply filters such as the type of accommodation you are looking for (single, shared, whole apartment) and number of guests. You can also filter for price.

The results will be thrown up in a list and you can click on each property profile.

Location, location.

As with any accommodation search, location will be an important consideration as you choose your AirBnB apartment. Do you want to be in the thick of if, close to cafés but not above a bar? Would you prefer to be on a quiet street in a more residential areal. What sort of transport links do you need?

There is an interactive map with each place represented by a flag with the price on it. You can then click on the flag to call up the property profile

The AirBnB accommodation “profile”

There’s an awful lot of information about each AirBnB property on its profile and it’s very easy to overlook things. Some details may not “register” with you because you don’t (yet) realise that they could affect how comfortable you’ll be. So, let’s flag up things to focus on!

Profile doesn’t usually include a floor plan but does give you three sources of info when choosing a place: the description, the photos and the reviews. There’s also usually a brief owner biography.

The description begins with a narrative before you move into more “list” like details.

The description will usually be in English (there is also a translation facility). If it’s just in the “local language” and you’re already able to use it, that’s a huge language learning plus. Not only will you be able to practise the language during the booking process, but it suggests an owner/administrator more focussed on locals, with whom you’re likely to be able to use the language. In generally use AirBnB.de, by the way, so all the interface is in German as well.

If you’re not yet confident enough, a profile posted in a foreign language could make for communication difficulties and Japanese-only profiles stopped me in my tracks when I was researching my recent trip to Japan.

For how many people?

Just because a place is described as “sleeps four” or “sleeps six” doesn’t mean it’s going to work for your group.

In Iceland my “sleeps four” place and it had one double bed in the sole bedroom and a fold-out sofa in the living room. You had to go past the sofa to get to the kitchenette area. That would have worked for a couple with kids, but it may not be so convenient if you’re two couples going away together (or, even less, one couple and two non-attached individuals).

Check the details in the brief “Sleeping arrangements” section (e.g. “1 double bed, one sofa bed”).

I’m always looking for a proper bed as I don’t want the hassle of folding out a sofa and putting it away and fold out beds are not always the most comfortable.

Bedding should always be provided and that will be indicated in the “Amenities” section.

Also there will be other vital information, such as whether there is air conditioning and whether there is a TV.

Wifi

Check out the details of the wifi. Look out for more info in the reviews as well (see below) as guests’ views of how good the wifi is may differ from the owner’s. Beware that info (and discussion) tends to focus on download speeds. If you’re a digital nomad or YouTuber, upload speeds could be more important. When I was using AirBnB in Berlin last spring, I was up all night checking the painfully slow upload of my latest Tuesday vid. It eventually worked, but it was a day late appearing. The humiliation 😉 Ok, I was only on one-week stay, but if you’re renting a place for more than a few days, bad wifi could leave you trailing around in search of a café with good wifi or having to pay for desk/workspace rental somewhere hipster.

How is the place furnished and equipped?

The “Amenities” section will also contain important information about kitchen and bathroom equipment. One of the advantages of taking a whole apartment is that you’ll be able to do self-catering, so the kitchen is important.

Is there a stove or just some hotplates? I’ve often forgotten to check whether there’s a microwave.

It usually says that there are basic kitchen utensils.

In my experience, these are often inadequate. In my Reykjavik apartment, for example, there were only two spoons. I was on my own, so it sort of worked, but it was a “sleeps four” apartment. The owner explained that guests kept losing/taking things. That’s unfortunate but it really shouldn’t be my problem.

Turning to bathing and laundry: the “Amenities” section should also indicate whether towels are provided (usual) and soap/ shampoo/ hairdryer/ iron etc. (varies). Is there a washing machine? What about drying wet clothes?

What are the kitchen (or kitchen area) and the bathroom actually like? Time to think photos!

Photos – a priceless source of info

As you choose your AirBnB apartment, the profile photos are a great source of additional information (assuming that they are accurate).

What furniture is there? This might not be set out under “Amenities”.

For me, a decent table to work at is a must. It doesn’t have to be a dedicated desk space. A sturdy kitchen or dining table will do. For me, it’s no table, no booking. Where else am I supposed to write my blog posts and edit my vlogs? You might not be so bothered can be the table but you might want a sofa or easy chairs (and not all apartments have them).

Be aware, though, that the photos may not be up-to-date. In the photos, my spring 2019 Berlin apartment had a sofa and a sturdy table.. When I got there there were some cushions on the floor and a much smaller table

The place in the photos may not even be your actual apartment! This was the case in for me in Bratislava when I was over for the 2019 Polyglot Gathering.

It became clear from a careful read of the reviews that the set up was not a sole apartment owned by somebody making a bit of extra money on the side. The apartment was one of a number in one building, a whole corridor comprising, in effect, an “AirBnB Hotel” of serviced apartments. There was even a reception office where you checked in. On the AirBnB site, there was one set of photos, reused for each apartment profile. My apartment was furnished with exactly the same kind of furnishings as in the pictures, but the layout of the rooms was completely different. This all became clear from the reviews, so I knew what to expect. The place was great but do pay careful attention to avoid any surprises.

When the pictures are of the actual apartment, I always want glean every last drop of info I can from them.

For example, you can often tell whether the apartment is usually “lived in” by the owner or if it’s kept “empty” and just rented out. Both are fine. Lived in may have more of the owner’s stuff kicking about…but also more equipment in the kitchen (the Berlin 2018 apartment in vlog 1, above was “lived in, those on vlogs 2 and three were not).

Talking of the kitchen two easy to overlook details are work surfaces and a draining board/rack. The “Amenities” section may be silent on this but what can you see?

In my Vienna 2018 accommodation (see video 2, above) there was no proper draining rack for washing up (I find this a common shortcoming).

In Berlin 2019 there was no proper work surface, just the draining board (again, no rack) and the top of the fridge. I hadn’t spotted that from the photos, though when I looked later, it was visible.

In the bedroom, I’m big on proper curtains or blinds. The written details may be silent but the photos may show the set-up. What you can do, though, is take an eye mask.

The details often specify whether the accommodation is ground floor. I simply prefer to avoid this as I think it’ll be noisier, darker and not have good views. It’s not a deal-breaker for me, though.

If there is no info on floor in the description, can you determine this by looking through the windows in the photographs?

If the accommodation is higher up and you are less mobile, is there a lift (elevator)? The “Amenities” section may tell you that.

The “Amenities” section may also tell you whether the accommodation faces onto a road or an inner courtyard. You may also be able to tell this too from anything you can see through the windows in the photos. An inner courtyard could be quieter (or it could be an echo chamber)… You just don’t know (so check the reviews – see below).

The profile will normally specify whether there’s a balcony but you can also sometimes see that from a photo.

The photos will also give you a sense of how light and airy the place is. Beware of the usual “estate agents'” tricks such as using a wide-angle lens to make a place look bigger. Does the furniture look “stretched”? Don’t be distracted by multiple photos of irrelevant details such as close-ups of taps or bottles of luxury soap…or a picture of frills like a “Nespresso”-style coffee machine but no picture of the cooker. Once you arrive, it could turn out that there’s just one solid ring that takes twenty minutes to heat up and that there aren’t any cartridges for the fancy coffee machine

It was the photos killed off my attempts to find an AirBnB in Fukuoka last autumn. All the places looked really pokey. They tended not to have a decent table or desk and there were often no proper kitchen surfaces. They weren’t much cheaper than hotels either.

AirBnB reviews – read between the lines!

Previous guests can leave reviews. Your job is not just to read them, but to read between the lines. After all, some guests will have unreasonable expectations or some one-off clash can lead to an unduly sour review.

More on point: read all the reviews of your target apartment (at least, the ones in language you can understand). Look at the spread over time (because places can change over time and recent reviews suggests a current healthy flow of guests).

I don’t book places with no reviews or only one or two.

As well as details of how smooth check-in is and reports on wifi, something else I’m looking out for in the reviews are any complaints that a place smells of smoke. That was a real problem in the (otherwise lovely) apartment I had in Berlin 2015 in December 2015 when I went over to take my Goethe C1 German exam. Since then, smell complains have been a deal-breaker for me.

It’s important to remember that an AirBnB apartment is not an hotel. While the apartment should be clean and have the essentials, you need to adjust expectations. That’s true if there’s a problem as well. Owners/managers will usually be very keen to help you (they know you’ll be leaving a review) but you still need to adjust your expectations down a little. It’s all in the price.

Price, booking and payment

Talking of the bottom line, the price of a whole apartment may vary according to how many of you are in your group. That depends on the individual owner’s policy. Be sure to indicate how many of you there’ll be and to let the owner know if the size of your group increases. You’re not supposed to “sneak” people in undeclared, even if you’re still under the capacity limit of the accommodation.

Check the “guest rules” in the accommodation description and other policy issues which are set by the owner such as whether you can automatically reserve or will have to wait for owner confirmation and whether payment will go through straight away or later (sometimes the owner requires you to part pay). Check the cancellation policy (it varies owner to owner).

Some owners offer a discount of a few percent or more if you stay for a week or longer. Monthly discounts can be higher, for example 10, 15, 25%.

There is often a “cleaning fee” and “service fee” (see screen shot example above). The system should add such additional charges to the total and adjust for any longer stay discount so that you can see the total before you click on to reserve/pay.

Payment systems accepted depend on the jurisdiction where the apartment is located.

Risks and issues to be aware of

For your own protection, always reserve and payment through the official AirBnB site. Be suspicious if an “owner” gets in touch via the site asking you to use email or to send payment other than through the site in case you never see your money again (or any accommodation). Check out the section on site alerting to potential scams.

There are some other potentially problematic underling issues with AirBnB. There’s no need for undue alarm, but it’s worth making yourself aware of the wider picture.

Short-term letting could amount to a change of use which may infringe local planning restrictions. It could also breech covenants in the owner’s lease (is subletting allowed?). Does subletting breech insurance policies? (I’d assume that your belongings won’t be covered and insure for the trip, if you’re worried about losing things). Even if everything is in order, neighbours may not be so thrilled by a regular stream of different travellers trooping up and down the stairs.

When I went to New York for the Polyglot Conference in 2015, I avoided AirBnB because people were saying that it wasn’t allowed under NYC rules. I ended up in the expensive and overrated AceHotel. A friend, meanwhile, had a lovely, large AirBnB apartment two blocks from the Conference venue…. If you’re concerned about potential issues at your destination, do a bit of research. Here’s a good overview article.

Checking in and out and contacting the owner/manager

I usually book on my laptop but now have the AirBnB app on my phone with the map and check in details.

I do often communicate via WhatsApp with the owner on the day of arrival (for example if they have agreed to meet to give me the key or if I have a question about directions or on arrival).

Some owners are keen to meet you. I was serenaded in on arrival in Bratislava in 2017 by the lovely owner (who even picked me up at the bus station in his car). In 2019, I was met and shown round in Berlin by the owner, who lived a few doors down the same street. A great chance to practise the lingo!

On the other hand, check-in and check-out can be very impersonal. When I left the Berlin apartment, I was asked to put the key on the kitchen table and close the front door behind me. That was also the arrangement when I checked out in Thessaloniki after the Polyglot Conference in autumn 2016. The problem was, I’d been met in person and I hadn’t understood that the arrangement would be different at check-out. Departure time came and went and I was still standing there in the apartment waiting for the owner to appear (and getting more and more agitated about needing to get to the airport). Eventually I got through on the phone to the owner’s mother who, in broken English, told me that I was supposed to leave the key on the table and shut the door behind me.

Often, the key is in a small combination lock deposit box by the outermost door (as in vlog 1, above and when I stayed in an AirBnB apartment in Edinburgh when I was up for a language meetup). You will be messaged the code and the you may well not see anybody at all on arrival or departure.

There should be a contact person in case you have questions or you need something during your stay. In Iceland I had to request the floors washing and a loo brush. In Vienna I couldn’t get the wifi to work.

So far, I’ve been referring to the “owner” but it’s not actually always the owner you’ll deal with. It may be a friend of the owner or a paid agent or manager.

On departure it goes without saying that you should leave things clean and tidy. You can empty the bins if it’s clear where to do that. You may have found some non-perishable groceries in the kitchen cupboards when you arrived (tea bags, muesli etc) or a box of washing power/ bottle of shampoo in the bathroom. I think it’s a nice gesture to leave such things, if you don’t need them.

Remember to leave a review

Remember to leave a review yourself. If you don’t you won’t get a review back, which helps build your profile. Next time you book owners will probably pay more attention to your profile if you’re just wanting a room in their house or if you’re going to be taking one room in a shared rental apartment. If you’re renting a whole, apartments, all you want is to know that you were no trouble.

Not the only option….but still often a good one

AirBnB has its drawbacks but I’m still a fan. Go in with open eyes and you can get a comfortable space and have a more “authentic” local experience. Have you used the service yet? How did it go? Let me know in the comments below.

The post How to choose an AirBnB apartment appeared first on How to get fluent, with Dr Popkins.

Boxy taxis

In Japan, they drive on the right side of the road (that’s “right” as opposed to “wrong” ) and it was reassuring for me as a Brit to be able to climb into a right-hand drive taxi. It was great too to see that most of the taxis are angular Toyotas. I’m a 1980s throw-back too, after all, and they remind me of my car-mad teenage years.

Cab-wise not everything was familiar, though. The taxi drivers often wear uniforms, including white gloves. For some reason, it is derigueur for cab seats to be covered in a lace-style cotton covers.

Multi-storey, but not as I know it 

As you’ll discover the minute you try to book a hotel room or AirBnB, space is at a premium in Japan. This seems to extend to parking.

Here’s what appears to be a multi-story garage in Fukuoka. 

What, though, is this?  

Beware of the bikes

At the bottom end of the transport food chain, Japan’s culture reminds me of Germany’s. Pedestrians like to stand at the “red man”, even if there is no traffic in sight. 

Both Japan and Germany set store by convention and safety on the roads, except when it comes to cycling. 

It kind of added to the frisson of my trip to know that I could be dispatched to the next life at any moment by a cyclist moving at top speed on the pavement, without lights.  

Oh, and, talking of the risk of death, like Germany, the Japanese have a blank spot when it comes to the dangers of power points in the bathroom.  

How come Germans and Japanese aren’t regularly electrocuted as they dry their hair while standing in a half-filled bath tub? 

To that, another electifying question: how come I wasn’t singed at the nether extremeties during three weeks of plugging in unearthed, two-pin electric plugs and pulling them out again?

Great to be back in Singapore with it’s solid “British style” three pin plugs. Who could ever doubt the legacy of the British Empire’s civilising mission?  

Top notch public transport

After the usual panic the first time you have to work out a new system, the underground train networks in Fukuoka, Kyoto and Tokyo turned out to be very easy to use. 

The ticket machines offered a choice of English and several Asian languages. The stations on each line are all numbered and colour-coded as well, which helped.  

The machines take most coins and notes and give change. 

The trains were frequent and (even in Tokyo) not as crowded as London’s.

One potential source of confusion in Tokyo was the difference between the underground, the JR national rail services and other, local private rail networks. 

When you arrive by bullet train, you’re still on the rail station and need to go through the gate and enter the metro. 

It’s always that way at home, too, but, with such labyrinthine transport hubs, thronging with people at all hours, I got confused several times. 

For me, entering and leaving the JR station part of each complex (once I’d found it) was a matter of flashing the one-week Japan Rail Pass that I’d bought in the UK in advance of the trip. 

Once this was “activated” it entitled me to unlimited use of most bullet trains, the JR lines in Tokyo (including the most useful Yamanote “circle” line that runs around the centre of town) and the monorail out to the airport at the end of my stay. 

Taking the bullet

I took three of Japan’s famous high-speed trains: Fukuoka to Hiroshima, Hiroshima to Kyoto and Kyoto to Tokyo. 

Even if you have a Japan Rail Pass, it’s recommended that you reserve a seat in advance for the “shinkanshen” as the bullet trains are known (it means, rather prosaically “trunk line”). 

I went to activate my pass and make the reservations at Hakata Station (Fukuoka) three days before I was due to travel. It was already too late to get a guaranteed seat in for the first of my three trips. So, for that one, I had to slum it in a second class “unreserved” carriage, even though I had a “green” (first class) Japan Rail Pass. 

The first two legs by bullet were overrun with rugby fans. I got a seat in the unreserved carraige at Fukuoka, but people who got on at the next stop had to stand to Hiroshima.  The two England fans standing next to my seat never stopped talking (rugby-) “footbollocks” for the whole two hours. 

The best leg was Kyoto to Fukuoka. There were no rugby fans and it very quiet. One of my favourite things is an outbound inter-city rail journey after dark in almost deserted carriage.

I was surprised that none of the trains I travelled on had power points, earthed or not. That’s a serious matter if you want to do some sneaky vlog editing en route and your laptop is threating to give up the ghost. 

There wasn’t a buffet car in any of the trains either, only a refreshments trolly (so quick espressos for me en route).

Hi-tech toilets….low tech paper.

I’d heard about Japan’s toilet tech before I arrived but I was still pretty amazed when I first clapped eyes on these examples of “extreme civilisation”. 

First, they come with a control panel, though you don’t have to press anything before you sit down. 

When you do sit, it’s warm.  

There are various types of bidet-style spray systems which usually seem to involve a probe emerging in a slightly disconcerting way from under the rim at the back. You can often set the strength of the spray, and “full power” may explain why there were showers of water drops around some loos I visited.  

While Japanese toilets may be top notch, the toilet paper is, erm, shite.  

I only ever found one-ply. In the UK a robust two-ply paper is normal. In German, natürlich, you can buy three- and even (if my memory is not playing tricks on me) four-ply tissue.  

Plastic is king

Like many people in recent years, I have been very concerned about the amount of plastic waste we’re generating and how so much of it ends up in the sea, wrapped round turtles’ necks or inside fish. 

Japan is into plastic in an even bigger way than western Europe. The stuff is thrust at you on all occasions and from all directions.

At a convenience store you buy some buns in an outer plastic wrapper. They put the goods  in a plastic bag and slip in a little hand towel wrapped in plastic for you to wipe your fingers. 

You get the thing home and open it. The three buns are in a plastic tray and then also each wrapped in plastic.  

At least the plastic wrapping the manufactured snacks that I bought was easier to get into than the tough stuff covering my banana. 

After two weeks in Japan, I’ve given up all hopes of any conservation breakthroughs. We will, indeed, die in a sea of plastic and take most forms of marine life with us.  

There’s nothing to be done about it. So we might as well wrap, unwrap, disgard casually and be merry. 

I do luuuuuuurve plastic in any case.  It’s so amazingly useful.  

Eating on the hoof?

One a more serious note, I have heard that Japan has a very developed domestic recycling system and I was struck by the scarcity of public rubblish bins. 

Maybe this is partly because there are so many places to eat quite well, quickly and cheaply. At the kiosks and convenience store, there often a narrow counter (or glorified shelf) where you are supposed to stand and eat what you’ve bought. There’ll usually be a bin there too. 

Otherwise, I presume people take things home to eat or drink and dispose of the packaging there.  The Japanese don’t seem to snack on the move as we do in Britain. 

In the food market in Kyoto there were even signs saying “Don’t walk and eat”. 

On my last night in Tokyo, I bought a small plastic-wrapped rice thingy and a can of beer in the up-market Ginza district and after wondering for twenty minutes trying to find a park bench, I had to sneak down a side to for some surrupticious snacking. 

The only way I could get rid of the evidence afterwards was to stuff it into the bin for the paper towels in a gents’ loo.  

Public toilets are ubiquitous and clean in Japan, by the way.   

Yes, the convenience stores had a range of useful snacks that kept me going when I was out seeing the sights.  

I particularly liked the triangular rice numbers, though I never worked out how to unwrap them properly. 

The multi-layered packing, in lovely transparent plastic, has three places to pull to remove additional folds of plastic in stages from between the seaweed and the rice. I’ll have to check for instructions on YouTube. Somebody’s sure to have shot something about it.

The convenience stores were weak, to say the least, in the fruit and veg departments. After two weeks in Japan I’m now gagging for a salad. Yet given Japan’s record-breaking life-expectancy, is all this “eat your greens” stuff actually overdone in the west?  

You know from news footage that Japanese people like to wear masks to ward of the germs. 

I read somewhere that it’s better to sniff away than to sneeze (into a handkerchief). Tosh. I witnessed a lot of public sneezing.  All the more reason to wear a mask, I suppose. Have you ever tried that in glasses, though?  They’ll soon steam up.  I suppose in Japan you can buy spectacles that heat up to beat the condensation (just like the mirror in my Tokyo hotel room).  

I do wonder why convenience stores stock not only a wide range of masks but also a selection of his and hers underware.  Is this because your typical salaryman or woman works such long hours that there’s no time to do the laundry?  

Talking of corporate types, I often returned to my hotel about ten or eleven at night and there were always groups of (mainly men) in business attire on the streats heading for the stations. I presume they had spent the evening in enforced corporate socialising together.  

There were also a lot of teens in school uniform on the weekend which leads me to wonder: do they have weekends in Japan? 

Umbrella etiquette

My third day in Tokyo was a wash-out. I got soaked making my way over to the National Museum, my little telescopic umbrella not up to the job.  

The standard issue Japanese umbrella is a sturdier, see-through affair (plastic, of course).  

When you get to the threshold of a shop or public building, you are offered a one-use plastic bag into which to slide your brolly. 

One other fun thing I saw in one office block was something I’ve never seen before and don’t know the name of in any language. Let’s call it an “umbrella shaking screen”.  1) Enter building. 2) Fold down your umbrella without fastening shut.  3) Slide between walls of screen. 4) Shake vigorously.

Culinary delights

I wasn’t previously a great fan of Japan’s famous cuisine. I’d never choose to go for sushi or noodles back home. I had some fabulous food out here, though. One one of the first nights in Fukuoka I had this tofu which tasted divine.

It sometimes feels a little awkward when you enter a restaurant and request a table for one.  I know this because I do most of my travelling and exploring on my own. 

No loner embarrassment problem in Japan. The society seems set up for solos. Most places seem to have a “bar” style counter where you can sit in splendid isolation facing the wall, lost in your thoughts, your phone and your meal.  Just how I like it  

Don’t bother learning “menu Japanese”.

I don’t read much Japanese yet but I found that in the three large cities that I visited places very often either had a menu in English or there was in iPad on which you could order (with a language choice). Failing that, the plastic-laminated menus almost always have pictures of the dishes and to-scale models of the food are on display in the window.  These are made of…..plastic.

In Tokyo, I found a shop specialising in model food. The stuff is, it turns out, is much more expensive than the real thing.  

At a lot of popular fast food joints you choose and pay at a machine at the entrance. You then go to the counter with your ticket and wait for your order to be delivered.  

I had some great, quick meals this way. It wasn’t expensive, either. Maybe Y400 for a dish and the same (or less) for a beer (under £3/USD4).  

Finland, cubed.

While the emphasis on convention, order and quality gives Japan a “German” feel. Yet is Japan really the “eastern Finland”? 

Finns and Japanese share a reserved nature, not inclined to tell you what you should be doing or – even more alarmingly – what they are actually thinking, as the Germans are so disconcertingly inclided to do  

More than one I thought I heard people speaking Finnish but it was, of course, Japanese. I think it’s because of the “long” consonants vowels that are features of both languages. 

Then there’s the huge emphasis on simple, modern design that you find in the architecture, furniture and packaging. This time I mean paper packaging. Like the Finns, the Japs are very big on paper.    

Yep, it’s Finland. Finland on speed.  

Shop, till you drop

As a London resident I had no problem with Tokyo’s crowds and endless bustle. It was similar to what I’m used to in London but made less stressful by Japanese quietness, manners and superior publilc transport. This desipte the scale in Tokyo being even greater than in London.  The pinnacle was the  the amazing Shibuya “scamble junction” I visited on my last night in Tokyo. 

For the whole trip, I was surrounded by hyper-consumerism aimed at all pockets.  

This isn’t just a Japanese thing, of course, but it did seem to be particularly intense here. 

There’s another side, I know; a powerful counter narrative of simplicity, minimalism and conservation.

Like in the UK, there are also people sleeping rough in Japan, although I didn’t notice them begging on the streets.

Back to shopping: I generally buy very little beyond food and books. I was quite restrained this time and limited myself to a number of books for learners fo Japanese. 

These were beautifully wrapped for my by the store assistants.  Pity I didn’t realise till it was too late that you can claim a 10% sales tax back (you have to do it in store, you can’t at the airport).  

Have you been to Japan? What first impressions struck you? Were they similar to mine or quite different? I’d love to hear in the comments below. 

More on my trip to Japan here on the site before long and some thoughts on how I coped with the language.  

The post Japan: first impressions appeared first on How to get fluent, with Dr Popkins.

In the second post, I’ll outline some key factors you need to consider to make sure you get the right school and course for you if you decide that an intensive group language course abroad is for you.

Why an intensive group course abroad?

When they want to learn a new language, many people automatically think of taking classes. If you’ve got some free time coming up and the funds, what better than intensive focus on the language you’re studying on a course in a country where it’s spoken?

As you weigh up the alternatives, first, though, remember that an intensive, group language course abroad this is not the only way.

You could also set aside the time in the target country (or at home, for that matter) for intensive self-study, for one-to-one work with a local tutor or exchange partner (or your usual ones, on-line).

You could just turn up in the country. You could, for example, book yourself in an AirBnB or similar and and launch yourself on the locals, armed with nothing more than you pre-trip language preparation, a dictionary and a bundle of confidence.

If you have several months, you could look for a short-term job in the country.

These are all things that I enthusiastically advocate for the motived, independent adult language learner.

The formal course certainly has its place, though, and (as I’ll explain below), I’m a veteran of quite a few myself.

What, then about a course?

The are pros and cons of full-time “intensive” courses are very similar to those for the typical “once-a-week”-type evening language class (a spread-out or “extensive” course, as we say in the trade). There are some additional aspects you’ll want to consider, too.

The cons of studying on a group course abroad

Expensive inefficiency

You’ll be in a group with a load of other stammering foreigners, which is not as immersive as getting among the locals.

The teacher’s attention on you and your opportunity to speak will be reduced.

Plus you’ll be paying handsomely for the privilege, when you could have spent the money on one-to-one sessions (maybe more expensive but you could have done fewer to pack the same punch).

Too intense

A full-time intensive, group course abroad can be a bit too, erm, intense, especially for introverts or people who, maybe for health reasons, need frequent time out.

If that’s you and you’re a beginner, you may feel that you’d be better studying alone and one-to-one, reading and listening to audio at your level. As an advanced student, you may feel exactly the same.

Too rigid

If you’re a confident extrovert, you may feel that you don’t need a pre-packed group.

You might just want to book accommodation and relish the opportunity to get out and about and drum up conversations in broken Ruritanian with the locals left, right and centre.

If you just want to turn up, you could then supplement experience out and about with one-to-one sessions, face-to-face or on-line.

You could fit these into the down times between staggering in from the disco and launching back out to the local café for a coffee and croissant breakfast

The pros of taking a course abroad

The “intensive” advantage

To get fluent you have to put in the hours.

You can study fifty-two hours over a year or on a two-week course and see great results either way.

Intensive study and practice is obviously the quickest way to progress. That’s assuming it’s done correctly. That means, for example, lots of interactive learning, “interleaving” different tasks, problems and materials.

On an intensive course, you’ll be able to cut distractions and really get into the spirit. You won’t have time to slack and slide back, even if you wanted to.

In short, you get the momentum either for “blast off” to get you into orbit as a beginner or to take your language up a tangible amount in a short time.

This momentum can extend before and after the course.

If you book your course several months in advance, you’ll have a great “path goal” coming up on the horizon. In short, you have something to prepare for.

If things go well, you come back feeling the progress, inspired for more, albeit less intense, language study.

Consolidating and building on what you’ve done will, indeed, be crucial to ensure the long-term value of what you’ve done. What’s learned quickly can also be forgotten quickly.

Cheaper than one-to-one

A group may be less than optimal but, hour-for-hour, it’s a cheaper way to access the expert support and feedback of a teacher than one-to-one (though you may think it’s better to have fewer, more intense hours with a paid-for one-to-one teacher).

Imposed discipline

Yes a group course will be slightly less intense than one to one. Still, with a pretty full, imposed timetable, you don’t have to worry about those ever-present, real-world distractions. The discipline aspect so essential for successful focussed study is taken care of.

The group advantage

Extroverts will enjoy the group vibe that the group can provide.

Even we introverts may at least agree that it’s sometimes for our own good to be forced to engage. The social (as opposed to the educational) structure of an organised course may provide easier bridges for us into a community of fellow learners and, we’d hope, the surrounding community of natives.

Both learner types can “get out there” outside lessons, whether that means heading off to interact at the local tavern or to round the local art gallery.

It doesn’t have to be “either” a course “or” a authentic experience out there in the field.

On the subject of getting the best of both worlds, if you have, say, one month free, you could do a week or two at a school at the beginning and then spend the rest of the time doing your own thing….using what you’ve learned.

Mutual support

Other students in your class can help you and provide you with somebody usefully to compare yourself against.

When I was on an an intensive four-week Basque summer course, I noticed that my grammar and reading was much better than some of the local, Spanish-speaking students) in my group. My listening was far poorer and some of my class-mates had years of passive exposure behind them.

That discovery was uncomfortable but was also useful feedback for my about which of the skills in needed to “level up”.

I also found myself sometimes helping other students with the more formal aspects of the written language. It feels good to help others and it was a great way to consolidate my own knowledge.

A memorable social experience

The main rewards of your time on a language summer school may not be in what you learned of the language at all.

Looking back, it may be the broader social experience of your time in and about class, the laughs and camaraderie that you value most. I remember a great range of characters from some of the courses I’ve attended over the years.

Maybe you’ll have new long-term friends, some of whom may help you keep going in future.

One of my best friends today is a guy I met on my long summer Welsh course in Lampeter in summer 1988. I’m still in touch with an American I got to know on a German course in Schwäbisch Hall in summer 1993. In spring 2026 I spent two months with a small group in taking advanced German classes in Berlin.

You’ll also have (we hope) great memories of your time out and about in the country and what you’ve learned about its culture to sustain you back at home as you embark on the next, leg of your language learning journey. That may be a less intensive phase, but, thanks to your intensive course abroad, you’ll be in a bit deeper.

—))–oo–oo0-0oo–oo–((—

All in all, just as with the once-a-week evening language class, you get out what you put in on your intensive language course abroad.

As with all successful independent adult language learning, you need to take the initiative and see this – and every other part of what you do – it as part of your wider journey into the culture and towards the natives.

In the next post in this two-part mini-series, we’ll look at the key questions you need to answer before you book a course.

In the meantime, have you done an intensive course abroad? How did it go and would you recommend them? Let us know in the comments below.

(Updated 27 May 2026 by Gareth Popkins)

Related posts

How to choose a language school abroad (part 2 in this mini-series)

Group classes, for, against and what to do

The post Group language course abroad? For and against in 2026 appeared first on How to get fluent, with Dr Popkins.

Scottish Gaelic is one of Scotland’s indigenous languages. It’s Celtic and closely related to Irish and Manx. It’s a cousin of Welsh, Breton and Cornish.  As a learner of Welsh and Basque, I need no encouragement to give attention to lesser-used languages but as it’s the UN’s International Year of Indigenous Languages, I want to make a special effort to put the spot-light them here at How to get fluent this year and at aspects of learning and using lesser-used languages.

Making a language visible on signage won’t, on its own, do much to change levels of use of spoken Gaelic, of course.  It can help to raise consciousness, though. It can help as part of a wider revival drive.  It’s been an important part of the campaign to improve the status and, to some extent, the fortunes of Welsh.

Here are the shots, plus my “reading” of them as an outsider who doesn’t know the language and who’s looking at it from the perspective of his experience in, and knowledge of, Wales and the Basque country. I’ll warn you now: I’m in a stroppy mood (the way the indigenous languages of the British Isles are treated tends to do that to me).

Part 1:

To start on a light note, this is a sign in Druim na Drochaid (that’s “Drumnadrochit” for those of you who need an, erm, easy to read and pronounce Anglicised version).

It looks pretty official but is it a joke? It’s a message I’ve only otherwise seen in British sea ports where you can drive off the ferry from continental countries where they drive on the right.  This was inland and nowhere near any roll-on, roll-off ferry port.

Anyway, the message is clear and all to familiar from the way Welsh is treated.  In Wales, for example in some automatic check-outs, such as those at W H Smith newsagent/stationer stores, where five or six languages are offered, but no Welsh. It’s the same story at the ticket machines of First Great Western Trains at Paddington Station, when you’re buying a ticket for the mainline from the English capital to the Welsh and can choose between English, French, Polish etc. etc….but not Welsh.   

The message is this: “You can have any language  you want, as long as it isn’t Gaelic.” 

Part 2:

I saw this sign at a wayside viewpoint in the hills that rise above the north east banks of Loch Nis (that’s Loch Ness for those of you slow to work things out).  There’s a token Gaelic headline but everything else is in English.  Even the Gaelic is treated to one of those jokey phonetic transcriptions.

The message? “Gaelic is a curiosity for the tourists.  As for native speakers in their own part of the word: eff off, we’re only getting down to the nitty-gritty in English.”

Here’s another example of the same thing from near Inbhir Nis/Inverness Castle: 

Part 3:

Walking round Inbhir Nis, I saw that many of the streets are signed bilingually and there were one or two Gaelic translations at tourist spots such as the way up to the castle).  The Gaelic though is in a much smaller font and a “Celtic” script is used.  Size matters and as for the script, to me this smacks of quaint folkification. Like in the shots above, to me it’s about making the language safe for the tourists.

The message to us: “Our heart isn’t really quite in it but we sort of know we are supposed to be proud of our heritage, despite our huge embarrassment.”

Our message to them: “This is so feeble, we don’t know why you bother!” 

Part 4:

Looking out of the train window on the journey from London to and from Inbhir Nis offers exhilarating views of landscape.  I’m fired up in a different way when it comes to what I see of language usage, though.  

The thing is, you have to look at bastardised forms of beautiful Gaelic place names.  I can see the sense of this where the English and Gaelic names are completely different.

It’s not too much in the twenty-first century, though, to expect everyone educated in Scotland to be able to read and pronounce Gaelic orthography, even if they don’t know the language, is it?  It’s not actually that difficuult and don’t they have twelve years compulsory education up there?

Time to ditch the silly Anglo spellings, you Scottish saddos!

The Welsh have almost got rid of Caernarvon and Llanelly (for Caernarfon and Llanelli), though they still tolerate abominations like Llantwit for Llanilltyd…., the twits.

Here’s some more acid for your eyes from the An t-Eilean Sgitheanach (the Isle of Skye): 

The message: “We’re so thoroughly colonised that we don’t even feel shame.  You’ll have to be embarrassed for us (We are, Scotland, we are!).”

Part 5:

The fight for public status for the language on official signage and forms in places like state post offices and the law courts was the first campaigns of the Welsh Language Society in the heady atmosphere of 1960s protest.  

It could, of course, be argued that fighting for token status and individual rights diverted attention from the more vital need to shift norms of actual usage as a work of language in economic and civic life.  My answer: you need both. 

In the twenty-first century, you’d expect Scotland to be leading in the visibility of the language, even if less was being done about training staff to use it….  

Now, credit where credit’s due.  Here’s a Post Office at Port Rìgh (or, as they seem wont to prefer “Portree”, on Skye) that gets it more or less right (you just need to move the Gaelic to the top, boys). 

Back in Inbhir Nis, though, there’s not a word of Gaelic in sight at the Post Office. 

This is a post box at Caol Àcain (“Kyleakin” – actually originally a Norse name) just over the bridge on the An t-Eilean Sgitheanach (the Isle of Skye).  

No Gaelic in sight.  This sort of things from the Post Office is, thankfully, more or less unthinkable in Wales now (at least as regards token displays of the language….If you want to work through Welsh, God help you!). 

Meanwhile at Inbhir Nis railway station the Gaelic version is so small, I can’t actually see it: 

Their message to us:  “We’re keeping it Anglo-Saxon here, as in: ‘f*** off”, Gaels.

Our message to them: “You need a new language usage law”.

Part 6:

Moving a bit more up-beat, there are many official bi-lingual road signs, like the one pictured below.  

It’s a sign on an “A” road (major trunk road – in the UK they are always done on a green background with white script, as here).  Gaelic has been added in the same orangey-yellow that is used throughout the UK for the road numbers.  

There are several aspects of this design that I like.  First, the Gaelic is on top. In Wales, Welsh only goes on top in several of the western counties (and Powys, the large border county in the east) and “language order” prefers English in the populous counties of the South, fiefdoms of the traditionally British Labour party (and thanks to the intervention of the Labour Secretary of State John Morris to keep Welsh down in the 1970s).

I like the use of a different but still just as vivid colour for Gaelic.  In Wales, white is used for both languages. It’s also great, to my mind, that the standard road sign typeface is used. Other options would have been to Italicise (as is often the case in the Republic of Ireland) or to use a “Celtic”-style script (this used to be more common in the Republic of Ireland). 

The message: “Gaelic is an official language.  It’s a normal part  of public life. Bigots, get over it!”

Part 7:

In addition to the road signs, I saw other examples of a confident, normalised use of Gaelic. 

This bi-lingual police van in Port Rìgh is bold and confident (and a very recent development).  Or, does it belong with the picture from Aviemore train station…(or should that be Avvy-more )?

Do we need the English at all? In Ireland they seem to manage well enough just with “Garda” on their police cars. If you can’t work out what Poileas means on a white van with a dirty great flourescent yellow and blue stripe down the side flashing blue lights on the top, are you really bright enough be allowed out on the streets without adult supervision?

I liked these two signs at the visitor centre at Cùil Lodair (Culloden). 

The message: “Eh? You mean in some countries they have an issue with using their own language on their own territory?”

That said, the important, “let’s get down to business” stuff was in English only: 

—))ooo–OOO–O-OOO–ooo((—

So there we have it, our “safari” and my personal commentary draw to a close.  Now, I know that there are differences between the situation of the two languages.  But there many similarities, too….Not least in the tunes sung by the Brit-Nat anti-indigenous language bridgade in both countries (and pretty much everywhere else where this is an issue, I’d guess).  

What do you think? Are you Scottish? Do you see parallels with the way indigenous languages are treated where you are? Let me know in the comments below.  

Postscript

I’m writing this from Dùn Èideann (Edinburgh) as I’m up in the Scottish capital for a few days, centred around a language lover’s meetup or “polyglot pub” event that took place at the weekend.  I was one of the presenters and there were seven or eight short talks altogether, including two inspiring talks about Scottish Gaelic. Look out for vlogs from the trip soon on the YouTube channel and a summary blog here on the site. 

In the meantime here are the two most Gaelic-focussed of my “Highland Fling” series of short travel vlogs: 

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All five vlogs are now out, beginning with the Polyglot Gathering opening evening on Wednesday right up to the closing ceremony and beyond on Sunday, the last day.

Needless to say, I’ve had a great time.  It’s the people who make it and thanks to all of them who shared their thoughts with me on camera.

Hope you enjoy the videos: memories for those of you who were there and a peek “inside” for those of you who couldn’t make it this time.  If you do enjoy, please share this post and subscribe over on YouTube.  Any questions about the Polyglot Gathering?  Let me know in the comments below!

The Opening Evening:

Day One:

Day Two:

Day Three: 

Day Four:

If you’d like to discover more about the Gathering, you can check out the daily vlogs I did from the Polyglot Gathering 2017 here in Bratislava.  I also wrote a review blog.  Look under the “Articles” tab for my vlog and separate review from 2016 in Berlin, and the reviews from there in 2015 and 2014. Don’t forget the Gathering’s own website, where you can get full details of the next Gathering, 29th May to 2nd June 2019.

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Last Sunday I was up in Yorkshire celebrating the Western Easter with a slice of traditional English simnel cake.

Today, I got to celebrate all over again.  The flavours this time were Russian…and I’ve captured them all in a short, impromptu vlog (link at the bottom of this post).

It all started when I checked twitter this morning – Orthodox Easter Sunday – and saw an announcement that there would be a blessing of Easter food – oсвящение пасхальной снеди – at London’s Russian Orthodox Cathedral of the Dormition of the Mother of God and All Saints.

I’d been meaning to seek out this church for a long time. What better occasion to investigate than the most important day in the Church calendar?

Plus, the promise of some Russian Easter food was too tempting to let pass.

The heavens were open today, just like last Sunday.

When I arrived, the first thing I noticed from under my umbrella were empty tables; somewhat different from the sunny scene in that tweet.

I assumed I’d missed the ceremony or that it had been rained off.

There was quite a throng inside, though.

The building dates from the mid-nineteenth century. It was built as an Anglican church in the Lombard style (rather than the then popular Gothic). Since 1956 it’s been an Orthodox Church, though.

Despite the western design, the interior is now home has the many icons with the candles you’d expect in an Orthodox place of worship.

There were people coming and going, crossing themselves, placing candles and kissing the icons.

People had traditional Easter foods and decorated eggs with them.

There was even a stall selling traditional Russian Easter cakes.

The “kulich” is really a type of semi-sweet bread, with spices and raisins, very like Italian panettone.  The name, I read,from Greek κόλλιξ (kollix) , and ultimately Hebrew: חלה‎ (challah) meaning a roll or loaf of bread.

It’s tall and cylindrical.

Some say it’s the shape of a priest’s hat.

To others, it’s shaped like a traditional Orthodox Church, with the icing on top like snow on the onion dome.

It was lovely to be transported to Russia for an hour or so. I was even spoken to quite naturally in Russian (and, of course, responded).

Just as I was leaving, a priest announced that there would now be another blessing of the food.

I hadn’t missed it after all.

Such a Russian Easter food blessing was a new ceremony to me. What a splendid way to celebrate! How magical for the many children who were there, in particular.

It doesn’t reflect well that I’ve been living in London for eight years and only now taken a brief part in the Russian Easter celebrations.

It did feel a particularly timely gesture, though, given the current tensions between the Russian and British governments.

One of the reasons for my tardiness, of course, is that there’s simply so much of everything going on in this multicultural metropolis.

Even if you don’t live in such a large city, it’s always worth looking carefully for local events where the language you’re learning might be in use.

Have you ever been pleasantly surprised with what you’ve found, whether at Easter or some other time of the year?

I’d love to hear in the comments below!

First, though, check out the short vlog.  If you like it, please do share and subscribe to the Howtogetfluent YouTube channel:

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The “Hrad” – Bratislava Castle

Such “intercomprehension” naturally works best when two languages share a common ancestor and have not changed too much over time (either through their own, internal development or contact with other languages).

The languages that eventually became English and Slovak’s have common ancestor. But they went their separate ways too long ago for you to get very far with the Slovak if you only know English.

It’s a very different matter if you want to make sense of the Slovak language and you speak Russian, Polish, Serbian-Croation…or any other Slavonic language.

The Slavonic languages are one big, closely knit family.

As a result, if you’ve learned ANY Slavonic langauge, you’ll find it a huge help when you learn the next one.

Here’s the good news broken down:

• the way the verbs work is very similar.
• the complex declension systems for nouns and adjectives broadly follows the same pattern,
• the prepositions are very similar and the cases that follow them are often the same.
• much of the vocabulary is either the same or close.
• when the vocabulary is different, some of the differences follow  patterns that you can sometimes figure out if you’re paying attention (I noticed for example that “h” in Slovak often corresponds to “g” in Russian).
• other times, there is a clear relationship but the meaning is a little different (“namestie” means square in Slovak, a bit like “na” (on) and “mesto” (place) in Russian).

Of course, there are going to be real divergences between the languages as well.

Plus, you need to be alert for false friends (words which look the same but have a completely different meaning).

All in all, we still need a large dose of humility.

There’ll be lots we don’t understand and we’ll still get a lot wrong.

It means “Main Square”, obviously!

Caveats aside, though, you can find your feet much more easily if you leverage what you know of the Slavonic language that you know.

You could do the same if you were a Slovak leaner visiting Poland or Slovenia.

You can apply the same principles between closely related languages in other language families too.

It could be jumping from Spanish to Italian or Portuguese (in the Romance family – cousin French is further away).

It could be from German to Dutch; Finnish to Estonian; Welsh to Breton.

Or you could have learned Swedish and find yourself in Denmark, Norway, the Faeroes or Iceland.

Be on the lookout for vocabulary borrowings from other, unrelated language as well.

In one café I came across onion soup on the menu. Onion in Slovak is “cibuľová”. In Russian, totally unhelpfully, it’s “luk” (same root as the English word “leek”).

However, I have studied some Italian (“cipolla”) and Finnish (“sipuli”).

I got onion soup…..as I’d been able to guess that I would

Other borrowings may be modern, international words (often derived from Latin or English) that you’ll at once recognise.

With either type, if you’ve understood the spelling system in the language you’re more likely to see through familiar words in a cunning local disguise.

I illustrate all this in the vlog as I blunder around trying to decipher written Slovak on street names, shop signs, posters.

Pronunciation, I’m afraid, is a quite a different matter.  That’s why I’ve classed my “Slovak” as one of my “sights of Bratislava in this post’s title

Coming at the Slovak sound system “cold”, I have nothing to go on.  So, I must apologies to Slovaks for making their language sound like my version of Russian and to Russians for, erm, my version of Russian

One of the things I could have done in advance, was to learn how the circumflex and acute accents that I point out in the video affect pronuniation.

All the same, when it came to understanding the spoken language, I still felt myself at a huge advantage the few times I had to interact a little with shop assistants who didn’t speak English.

The Old Town Hall (Stará radnica) on the Main Square

Language wasn’t the only delight on my first visit to Slovakia.

The country has a rich history and multicultural heritage.  This is at once clear in the capital city.

Very close to the present Austrian border, Bratislava is at the intersection of German, Slovak and Hungarian speaking territories.

From the city’s origin until the 19th century, Germans were the dominant ethnic group and knew the city as Pressburg. The current Slovak lands were part of the domains of the Austrian Habsburgs.

Know as Pozsony in Hungarian, the city was an important Hungarian centre, as well. It was part of the independent Kingdom of Hungary and, later, the Hungarian part of the Habsburg empire. From 1536 to 1830 Hungarian kings (i.e. the Habsburg Austrian rulers) were crowned as Kings of Hungary in St. Martin’s Cathedral (look out for the Latin plaque in that church in the vid).

There was a Slovak national awakening in the eighteenth and nineteenth century.

The biggest linguistic changes came as a result of the tragic upheavals of the twentieth century.

At the end of the First World War, 40% of the population of Pressburg spoke Hungarian as their native language, 42% German, 15% Slovak.

Many people were bi- or tri-lingual.

After the formation of the independent Czechoslovakia in 1918, Slovakisation proceeded apace.

In 1938, 59% of population of Bratislava were Slovaks or Czechs.  Germans represented 22% and Hungarians 13% of the city’s population.

The other important historical group were the Jews, a thriving community before the Holocaust.

After the Second World War, most of the Germans and Hungarians were expelled or evacuated.

The result of these momentous changes is that, since the 1950s, Bratislava has been 90% Slovak speaking.

Yet as you walk around the town, old signs, museums and monuments are a reminder of Bratislava’s rich heritage.

See what you can spot in the vlog.

If you visit, you’ll also be able to take in a range of Socialist period architecture.

I can’t resist giving you a sneak preview of the Slovak radio HQ building:

“Are you sure this pyramid from Ikea was supposed to go this way up, Štefan?”

Your experience of the city is going to be enriched not only if you’re alert to language, but also if you find out more about its rather complicated but fascinating history.

Here’s the vlog. I hope it inspires you to visit Bratislava and to hone your own language – and history – detective skills.

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This is the question I answer the latest of my fun, tip-packed “Smash and Grab” travel and language videos,  shot on my recent trip to China’s ancient capital. The link’s right at the bottom of this post.

In September I was in the lucky position of having some free time on my hands after a work trip to Singapore.

My sister and her family live in Beijing.

The opportunity to visit while I was “in the area” was too good to miss. (Well, Singapore to Beijing is actually a six-hour flight!)

In the video I explore traditional “sights”: the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square slap bang in the middle of the city).

Tiananmen Square, entrance to the Forbidden City

I visited the White Pagoda in Beihai Park, directly West of the Forbidden city.

Just north of the Forbidden City is the “Coal Hill” (in Jingshan Park) with great views down.

Forbidden City from atop the Coal Hill

Further north, but still quite central are the Bell Tower and the Drum Tower.

Go a little further up and you come to the Lama Temple.

At the Lama Temple: an incensing experience

There are still traditional, one-storey “hutong” homes in alleyways both in the centre and just north of the Lama Temple.

Among the hutongs

Much further north you’ll find the Olympic Park with the famous “Bird’s Nest” stadium.

Web presence: at the “Bird’s Nest” stadium

A number of touristy places were on my itinerary, such as the Agricultural Exhibition Centre in all its full decorated full “Stalin Baroque” and the main railway station.

Wrong side of the tracks (you can only enter the main station with a ticket)

I also spent my fair share of time in coffee shops in some of the numerous Westernised malls which have sprung up. They weren’t there on my previous visit, twenty years ago.

Green tea, Howtogetfluent style

As a non-Chinese speaker I found the metro and bus system easily enough to negotiate (tips in the vid). There are also lots of docking ports from which you can hire bikes.

Hire bikes

My visit ended with a weekend outside the city to a “secret” location to explore a wilder section of the Great Wall.

Wild wall

September is a good time to visit for relatively good air quality.  There was no sign of the infamous Beijing pollution.  Prices were similar to in Britain and the city felt safe.

Needless to say, I’d love to learn Chinese at some point. In the meantime, how did I cope as someone who doesn’t speak Chinese and how would you?

Check out the video for the answers, plus other practical tips.

If you enjoy the video, don’t forget to “like” it on YouTube and subscribe to the Howtogetfluent Channel and keep an eye open for other “Smash and Grabs” soon (Hong Kong, Bratislava, Reykjavík).

Have you been to China?  If so, how was it for you?  Do you have travel and language experiences to share in the comments below?

If you have more questions, let me know below and I’ll try to answer them.

Now here’s that vid:

The post Exploring Beijing when you don’t speak Chinese: things to see and travel tips (video) appeared first on How to get fluent, with Dr Popkins.

To jump straight in to the film, scroll down to the bottom of this introductory post.

I just had a few days in Singapore before and after my “Minimmersion” Indonesian taster project in Yogyakarta, a two-hour flight south to Java.  It was enough to leave with some great pictures (and memories!).

Singapore is a tiny island state at the southern tip of Malaysia.  It’s just east of the large Indonesian island of Sumatra.  It’s home to about five and a half million people (about 60% are citizens, the rest are foreign nationals). The current linguistic breakdown (citizens and permanent residents) is:

(Main home language of citizen or permanent residents, source, Singapore Ministry of Statistics, 2015 General Household Survey)

The figures simplify the picture. Many of the population are bilingual in English. There are various creoles which have developed and are still spoken.

The territory’s fascinating past seems to me the best way into its linguistic landscape.

A British colony was founded here in 1819 by Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles.  You’ve probably hear of the famous Raffles Hotel.  I (inevitably) called by for a “Singapore Sling” cocktail, just like I did on my first visit, the year before last.  A cliché, I know 

The statue of Raffles in the video stands in front of the Victoria Theatre and there are lots of other traces of British influence.  You can see British-style electricity sockets, hundreds of streets with English names, British-style road signs. As in Britain, zebra crossings are market by distinctive flashing “Belisha beacons” (orange globe-shaped lights on black and white poles).

The English language must be the biggest legacy that the Empire left behind when the British left in 1963.

Its significance has even expanded since independence.

Varieties of Malay

When the British arrived in Singapore the main language was Malay. Malay is one language with many varieties. The one often spoken in Singapore in the nineteenth century was known as “Bazaar Malay” (a creole of Malay and Chinese languages).

Today there are still about 5,000 speakers of “Baba Malay”.  That’s another creole (mainly Malay/Hokkien) which developed among the Chinese who settled between the 15th and 17th century, the Peranakans.  These “Straits-Chinese” were a local elite under the British (and, in Indonesia, the Dutch).

At independence, in 1963, Malaya and Singapore were both part of new Federation of Malaysia.   Singapore was expelled two years later.

Standard Malaysian (Bahasa Melayu) enjoys special ceremonial status in Singapore (national anthem, in certain state and military ceremonies).  It is otherwise mainly spoken in the Malay community.

As you’ll see in the video, the language was much less in evidence than English or Mandarin on signage, except in traditionally Malay areas such as Kampong Glam.  There, I visited several Mosques and the Malay Heritage Centre.

Varieties of Chinese

There are today many Chinese in Singapore. Mandarin is the main Chinese language.

There are also speakers of other Chinese languages, especially Hokkien, Cantonese and Teochew, These languages have lost out over the years due to lower status and the promotion of Mandarin by the government. They are often classed as “dialects” (as is usual with these things, for political, rather than genuine linguistic reasons).

I visited the colourful Chinatown district on my first visit the year before last, but didn’t make it there this time.

Nevertheless, I heard and saw a lot of Mandarin.

It was the second most evident language on signage in the main shopping and business district. Chinese food seems very widespread, too, and it makes up for the lack of local “Chinese colour” (think red paper lanterns).

Varieties of English

“Singlish” is a very widespread local form of English. It’s used by locals (mainly the Chinese community) in an informal context. It has stripped down grammar, borrowed words and particles from Chinese languages.  Is also has influences from Malay and from other Asian languages.

Singlish is very much discouraged in public life and it often simply dismissed as “bad English”. I think most linguists would regard it as a legitimate creole language in its own right, though.

I heard it quite a lot when I was buying food and speaking with taxi-drivers.

I found some Singlish dictionaries and phrasebooks, often with a not-quite-serious or slightly humourous feel.  The tone felt similar to that you often sense in German dialect guides for the popular market.  Look out in the video for the children’s books in Singlish, too.

It is standard English that is the lingua-franca, the main language on signage, in business, commerce, the administration and the courts, the arts and in the education system.  As you’ll see in the film, you also see the odd sign in non-idiomatic English (perhaps Singlish or literal translations from Chinese?).

English is only the native tongue of about one third of Singaporeans but it has the advantage that it is a “neutral” language, not associated with just one major ethnic groups. For much the same reason, the Indonesian form of Malay was chosen as the national langauge of Indonesia (rather than Javanese, which has far more native speakers and is the language of the dominant ethnic group).

Indian languages

There are far fewer speakers of Tamil than of the other three national languages (and only about a third of the Singaporeans of Indian origin are Tamil).  As to whether what I was hearing was Tamil or other Indian languages, I’ve no idea!

On my first visit to Singapore I never made it to the “Little India” district. I made up for it this time, as and the language was very much in evidence there.

Outside Little India, Tamil was very much in fourth place in terms of visibility, as you’d expect from the overall numbers of speakers.

The beautiful Tamil script did play an equal role with Chinese and Malay on the signage in the underground (all three widely to be seen but “token” in the sense that much of the key signage and information was in English only).

I didn’t see much Tamil in the airports or on ATM screens.

Singapore – well worth a visit!

I think you’ll agree from what you see in the video that Singapore is a fascinating place for those who love history and those into languages, the intermingling of tongues, socio-linguistics, language planning and linguistic policy.

If that’s you, Singapore is well worth a visit.

It’s not cheap (the country jumped from under-developed to first world living standards in a generation and has prices to match).

Some visitors find it too orderly, but I was certainly not at all bothered that it felt very safe and clean.

If you’re not a lingua-tourist ((c) – I think I’ve just coined a term) , it’s a great place for flora and fauna too, with beautiful botanic gardens and rain forest spilling in. It’s also a good place for outdoor life. Old friends of mine from Britain who live there enjoy serious cycling on the island.

On a short visit from grey London in November, I loved the humid, thirty degree climate, even if I did get caught in rainy-season downpours a couple of times and even if my glasses (and the camera lens) kept steaming up when I left harshly air-conditioned buildings.

I gather that the year-round humid 30 degree climate can get a bit much for long-term ex-pats (your leather shoes will start to go mouldy!).

If you’re in Singapore for a longer period, it’s a great base for exploring the rest of South-East Asia, too.

Click on the YouTube screen below to watch, and if you’d like to give me a bit of a boost, please subscribe to the H2GF channel at the end!

I hope that watching the video will whet your appetite for discovering more, just as making it did mine.

The post Singapore’s languages: “smash and grab” (video) appeared first on How to get fluent, with Dr Popkins.

I’m already half way through the first week of my four week intensive Basque course and am really enjoying the experience so far.  With full board, the company of other enthusiastic learners and committed teachers and in lovely scenery, it feels like a great luxury to be able to devote myself to the language.

I recorded a call with my teacher just before I left to give a sense of where I’m starting from for Project “Basque Intensive!’.   Now I’m hoping for a real boost from my “advanced elementary” level.

The Basques are Europe’s most ancient inhabitants, straddles the Franco-Spanish border at the western end of the Pyrenees.  The Basque language is an “isolate” (related to no other) and its origins are something of a mystery.  Today it’s spoken by 700,000 people and is undergoing a strong revival.

The video is a fun look at my journey from London to Bilbao and on to Lazkao, home to  the Maizpide language school.

The journey was made special not only by the thrill of being here for the first time as somebody learning the language but also thanks to the hospitality of two hosts, Michael (in Bilbao) and Felix (in Lazkao, the night before the course started).

Michael isn’t a Basque speaker but it turned out that (like me) he’d lived in Russia and spoke Russian.  Felix is very much a Basque and we spoke Basque all evening (and went to a local festival together).  Talk about a flying start!

I arranged both stays through Couchsurfing.  Neither cost me anything and both hosts were incredibly generous with their time and local knowledge.  I’ve been a Couchsurfing host myself in London (I like to host people whose languages I’m learning).

If you’re thinking of visiting an area where your target language is spoken, how about becoming a couchsurfer or taking part in one of the similar schemes that are out there?  If you don’t fancy that,  you can just attend a Couchsurfing meetups or a similar event (try a site like meetup.com for ideas, or search Facebook for groups).

The next vlogs in the “Basque Intensive” series will look at the learning experience at the Maizpide school and at the sights and sounds of Lazkao and the surrounding area.  I’ll finish up with a call with my teacher when I’m back in London.

Don’t forget to let me know about your intensive residential language hopes or experiences, either in the comments below or direct by email (contact details under the “About” tab at the top of the site).

In the meantime, here’s my vid.  Let’s enjoy the journey together!

Next in series: THREE – half way diary (how’s it going?)

The post Basque Intensive! 2: from London to Bilbao and Lazkao (a vlog) appeared first on How to get fluent, with Dr Popkins.