Sir Francis Bacon’s Advice to Travellers

The other day, I came across the essay ‘Of Travel’ by the English Renaissance polymath Sir Francis Bacon. Published in 1601, the short (two-page) composition is a statement of advice to young men preparing to travel out of their own country. Setting aside the gender-exclusive character of the writing – it would have been unthinkable then for a young woman to go travelling for her own interest and pleasure – I found myself wondering how much of Bacon’s essay might still be relevant today. Here are three pieces of advice that caught my eye.

‘That young men travel under some tutor, or grave servant … such a one that hath the language, and hath been in the country before; whereby he may be able to tell them what things are worthy to be seen, in the country where they go …’

Personal tutors and servants – grave or otherwise – being in short supply these days, how can we now obtain this kind of personalized guidance for our travels? Well, one possibility is that genie in a bottle called Google, who lives inside our phones and devices, just waiting to do our beck and call. Google can tutor us on any subject, speaks countless languages and can instantly translate anything we need to say or understand. And there’s that other genie, Siri, who magically answers all questions and tells us how to find our way to where we’re going.

Yet I feel that these virtual tutors and servants don’t quite cover what Bacon had in mind, and this is where we need to think about the benefits of using real-life guides, actual people who speak the local language and know all the inside tips on where to go and what to see. 

I used to shy away from tours and tour guides, preferring to discover new places on my own. Recently, for one reason or another, I’ve been on more tours, ranging in length from one hour to nine days, and now I understand the value of a really good guide. 

Five years ago, on my very first travel-writing gig, I toured King’s College Chapel at Cambridge, as a side trip from a luxury rail journey between Edinburgh and London. It was my third time there, and I felt sure that I’d already seen it all. Ten minutes into the tour with one of the excellent local guides, I was seeing details I’d never noticed before, and hearing stories that added layers of meaning to the architectural spectacle. I came away with a much fuller understanding of the building and its significance – and a huge respect for the learning of the guide who’d been my ‘tutor’ for the hour.

More recently, I did my first – and so far, only – multi-day tour with a single guide. For nine days, on Beyond Travel’s Sri Lanka Uncovered tour, my friend and I had the exclusive services of a licensed ‘chauffeur-guide’. The improbably named Milinda, a toweringly strong Sri Lankan man, not only drove us everywhere and explained the history and geography of everything, but also imparted a finer kind of local knowledge. How to open and eat a mangosteen, for example, and why all the drivers tooted their horns so often. 

He also added something extra to the itinerary, for which I’ll always be grateful: a visit to the Buduruwagala rock temple near Wellawaya, in the south of the island. Far from the main road, in a forest clearing where butterflies flitted across beams of light filtered through the tree branches, we stood in awed silence before seven giant figures carved into a cliff face, the largest being a 16-metre high representation of Buddha himself. There were no other tourists, and only two local people there. It was one of the most eerie, mysterious, but also serene and uplifting experiences I’ve ever had. And we never would have found it without our ‘grave servant’ – and now friend – Milinda.

‘Let him sequester himself, from the company of his countrymen, and diet in such places, where there is good company of the nation where he travelleth.’ 

This piece of advice definitely rings as true today as it did 400 years ago. If you find an eating establishment on your travels that is full of English speakers, don’t go in. Find one that’s full of people speaking the language of the country you’re visiting. That way, you’ll not only encounter more authentic cuisine, you’ll also have a chance to observe local manners. 

I have two standout memories of eating in local establishments with ‘good company of the nation’ where I was travelling. One was in Sicily, in the hilltop town of Monreale, 12km from Palermo. My husband and I had just visited the famous cathedral with its extraordinary Byzantine-style mosaic decorations. We stopped at a nearby restaurant for lunch, attracted by the sound of Italian voices within. As we were tucking into our delicious meal, we were astonished to see a troop of about thirty Italian schoolchildren enter and climb the stairs to an upper level, where they were served the same cuisine as us. They were on a school excursion and this was their lunch break – no McDonalds or packed lunches for them! It was a wonderful illustration of how Italians of all ages enjoy ‘la dolce vita’ as a kind of national birthright.

My other most vivid recollection of eating with locals was having breakfast at the Bar El Comercio in central Seville. Its incredible ambience was created partly by the original Belle Epoque décor – chandeliers and painted tiles and marble-topped tables – and partly by the buzz of conversation as city workers fortified themselves for the day with strong coffee and decadent chocolate churros. To us it was a once-off treat, but to them it was an ordinary start to the day. What a culture!

‘When he stayeth in one city or town, let him change his lodging from one end and part of the town, to another.’ 

This third piece of advice from Sir Francis Bacon intrigues me. I can’t say that I’ve ever done it, at least not voluntarily, but I can see the point and I might try it next time I have more than a couple of nights in one city. To stay some of the time in the West End and some of the time on the South Bank or at Greenwich would certainly bring some variety to a London holiday, as would dividing a week in Paris between the Île-Saint-Louis and Montmartre. Have you ever done something like this? Would you recommend it?