Wow, you sure are attractive. I can tell that from here.

But are you so devastatingly good looking that you've been tossed out of a country?

That happened to three men from the United Arab Emirates (UAE). The men had travelled to the Saudi Arabian capital of Riyadh to attend the 28th annual Jenadrivah Heritage & Culture Festival. Its a 2-week celebration of traditional Saudi Arabian culture that's run by the National Guard.

The festival opened with a camel race on April 4th, and features traditional Saudi Arabian arts, crafts, poetry competitions, dancing, singing, and blacksmithing.

Now, you should know that the three handsome men weren't random faces in the crowd of 300,000. They were delegates from the UAE, which makes the next part of the story so strange.

This man is too handsome. Kick him out.    ----->

Photo credit: Alessandra Tarantino/AP

 Just so you know, this is not an attempt to lure readers simply by mentioning the lead characters in three of the most-read news stories of the past 12 months. (But it worked, right?)

Last week, I received an email from Hotels.com spokeswoman Lauren Wasley, who informed me that following the Pope’s resignation on Feb. 11, the accommodations-booking website found that searches by Canadians looking to stay in Rome increased 87 per cent when compared with Feb. 11, 2012.

"Makes sense," I thought. "After all, millions of his followers may want to:

a) Personally bid farewell to Benedict XVI (pictured above) before he enters his retirement years, which will probably differ somewhat from those of Gregory XII, the last pope to retire, in that there was a lot less shuffleboard being played in 1415, and Tim Hortons wasn't yet open for business.

b) Steal Raphael's The Transfiguration once that pesky Benedict is out of the way.

c) Visit Rome because...er...it's in the news."

In short, it seemed odd that the historic papal announcement would generate such travel interest. (Hotels.com wouldn't disclose sales figures, but it stands to reason that a big bump in searches should yield at least a small bump in bookings.)

It made me wonder if the setting of any big news story would boost searches for hotels in that place, even if the story isn't related to vacations, or even travel, in any way.

Turns out I was onto something.

If the end of the world really does go down on Dec. 21 -- as predicted by ancient Mayans (well, not really), New Age types and that exuberantly bearded gentleman rifling through my recycling -- it will put a bit of a damper on what has become a flourishing niche: apocalypse tourism.

After all, who wouldn't want to bid farewell to life, the universe and everything atop a spectacular mountain, in an awe-inspiring temple, or in a dank Soviet bunker? Indeed, it seems the only thing more varied than the doomsday theories attached to 12/21/12 -- interplanetary collision? Spiritual transformation? The Coming of the Great White Handkerchief? -- are the locations believers are flocking to for the big day.

One of the most popular spots, apparently, is the ancient city of Tikal in Guatemala (pictured below). Not only was it once a Mayan metropolis, but the archaeological site played the planet Yavin 4 in Star Wars: Episode IV. (In case you have a life and don't already know, it was from Yavin 4 that the Rebel Alliance launched its attack on the Galactic Empire's Death Star.)

The Death Star was capable of destroying entire planets. Armageddon would destroy our planet. Ergo, the place is reportedly crawling with wannabe Jedi knights and crystal-wearing weirdos. Heck, just last week park guards reportedly had to apprehend 13 naked women who were dancing and chanting around a fire pit near the temples. 

photo credit: chensiyuan/wikipedia

Hunter S. Thompson made me a travel writer.

In his book, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72, HST hilariously described what it was like to jet around America while covering the 1972 presidential election. By chapter 2, I wanted to bounce around US airports, hotels, and convention halls just like HST did, following candidates as they lusted for the White House.

That's why I'm excited about Mitt Romney's new travel contest.

Young Romney fan is ecstatic to fly on Mitt's plane.  AP Photo/Charles Dharapak

 Here’s a well-meaning innovation that could be warped and abused by creeps:

In 2012, Dutch airline KLM will you let you select your seatmate from their Facebook profile.

Yep, instead of letting Fate choose if your seatmate will be a chatty, filthy hog of a mama’s boy, you can pick your perfect seatmate by gazing at their Facebook and Linkedin profiles.

KLM says you can use their new “meat and seat” service for networking or to find passengers with similar interests. It's scheduled to launch sometime next year and will be available to everybody (not just us charming, dashing, attractive people). But if you’d prefer to fight for the seat rest with a total stranger, you can opt out and take your chances.

As with all technological innovations, this Facebook app will no doubt lead to both the best and worst in human behaviour.

Ask any Dreamy Poet or Bearded Wannabe Novelist to name their favourite book of travel writing, and they’ll no doubt give you an impressively literary title like Steinbeck’s 'A Russian Journal' or 'The Sheltering Sky' by Paul Bowles.

Like broccoli, these books are no doubt high in mental vitamins. But they also bore me to tears.

Personally, I’d rather read adventures with bite, wit, danger, and stakes. So in the hopes of helping you inspire someone you love this Christmas, I give you:

5 books that inspired me to become a travel writer

 Last spring, I had a Major Life Epiphany. I suddenly realized Toronto wasn’t working for me anymore. So I sold/gave away/burned all my stuff. Six days later, I moved to BC where I became a full-time, globe-trotting travel writer. Since then, I have:

- watched a Cuban donkey drink a beer

- witnessed Sir Richard Branson christen his Virgin Galactic ‘commercial space airport’ in the New Mexico desert

- floated in a hot air balloon over the Kenyan savannah; we stalked hundreds of thousands of migrating wildebeests, as they desperately tried to cross the Mara river without getting devoured by marauding crocodiles 

- guzzled Napa Valley wines with my mum

- flew to Boston to watch my Bruins destroy the Canucks in the Stanley Cup

- ran a wine-tasting marathon through Bordeaux vineyards

Eighteen months ago, while suffering through a brutal Toronto winter, I became single for the first time since the Industrial Revolution.

I was eager to shake off my rust, so I started dating pretty fast. I was so rarin’ to go, I think I even asked out my divorce lawyer.

Then I invited four people on romantic getaways (NOTE: these dates were spaced out, not simultaneous, i.e., I didn’t pick them all up in a shuttle bus and drive them to Bountiful, BC.)

Each getaway had a promising start. But then each one went horribly awry: