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Connoisseurs of kitsch: souvenir hunters

Fridge-magnet hunter Gemma Nisbet is not alone in finding joy buying trinkets when she’s away on her travels.

For some years now, I have been collecting fridge magnets when I travel. A little paella pan from Barcelona, a crocodile from Broome, a West Highland white terrier from Harrods in London, a pair of clogs from Amsterdam, a Namibian flag. To me, they are the perfect souvenir: inexpensive, highly portable, an ideal combination of the frivolous and the useful. Looking at them on my fridge, I’m reminded of the places I’ve been and the experiences I’ve had while travelling.

Fridge magnets seem to be popular in my profession — my colleague Niall McIlroy also succumbs to their kitschy allure (“for my mum,” he claims), as do many other travel writers I’ve met. Travel Editor Stephen Scourfield, meanwhile, collects tablecloths on his trips. And I have friends who collect mugs and tea towels and Art Deco tourism posters, even Christmas decorations on their travels.

People can be sniffy about souvenirs — something about them suggests “tourist” rather than “traveller”. But, as I’ve found, I’m far from alone in all of this ...

FRED PEARCE

Fred Pearce with his beer labels.

For beer-lover Fred Pearce, leafing through his collection of beer labels is like flicking through a diary of the past few years of his life.

“It’s been a labour of love, I tell you,” he says wryly.

Though a committed connoisseur of many years, Fred started his collection about four years ago on a holiday in the UK. He has since amassed two scrapbooks filled with beer labels not only from Britain, but from around Europe and Australia. There’s Estrella from Barcelona, Birra Moretti from Italy, and craft brews from Tasmania and the South West.

“They’re a lot lighter than tea towels or teapots,” he reasons. Better still, his collection gives him an excuse not only to drink beer but also seek out atmospheric pubs and speciality shops on his travels.

Not all of the beer he drinks makes the cut, however. His criteria for inclusion in the scrapbook include the label’s appearance and how much he enjoys the brew. “The name is important too,” he says. “The quirkier the name the better — there’s a Sheep Shagger in here.”

Other favourites include the Very Bad Elf and Seriously Bad Elf beers, Moo Brew from Tasmania, and Chalky’s Bite, from Cornwall, which is named in honour of the much-loved late Jack Russell belonging to TV chef Rick Stein.

Some are, Fred notes, “quite humorous” — he turns to a label from a beer called Old Leg Over — while Old Peculier stands out for the 10-word murder mysteries on the back of each bottle (the company which brews it sponsors a crime- writing festival in the UK).

The provenance of the beer also plays a role. “There’s a little bit of sentimentality to collect the Welsh ones,” admits Fred, who grew up near Swansea.

In the scrapbook, some labels are annotated with dates and tasting notes, while others sit alongside other souvenirs — a postcard from the Museum of Old and New Art in Hobart, brochures from breweries in Dorset, a golfing score sheet from Scotland.

Flicking through, Fred points out one of the more recent additions, a label from Old Speckled Hen ale, from a Mediterranean cruise last year.

“That was the beer they sold on the ship,” he says.

“Did you like it?”

“Oh, I loved it,” he replies, smiling at the memory.

CATHERINE HOXHA

Catherine Hoxha has 90 spoons in her collection.

Souvenir spoons are thought to have grown out of the tourism boom of the mid-1800s, when the spread of railways encouraged the emerging European and North American middle classes to see the world.

As circumstances conspired to bring about the advent of mass tourism, so the Victorian souvenir spoon craze gave the new breed of traveller a chance to buy an affordable memento of their holiday.

It’s an appeal that resonates more than 150 years later for Catherine Hoxha, who has a collection of 90 spoons — “probably 89 too many”, she quips.

“Usually I’m at the airport and I need to get rid of my last €5 or something like that,” she says of her ever-growing collection.

Having bought her first souvenir spoon a decade ago on a family holiday to Nepal, Catherine now has spoons from all over the world, from her own travels and from friends. “People know I collect spoons and buy them for me.”

Among them are plenty from Australia — everywhere from Hamelin Bay to Margaret River to Newman is represented, the latter spoon decorated with a little dump truck — as well as overseas destinations including Bangkok, Cape Town (with a bowl shaped like a shovel) and the UK (bearing the image of a teenage Prince William).

Favourites include a spoon with a moving windmill from the Netherlands, and one from Disneyland with a likeness of Mickey Mouse. The most recent purchase is from Iceland, where Catherine spent new year a couple of years ago while living in London.

Others have a family connection, such as the oldest of the lot, from the Southern Cross Rifle Club — Catherine’s grandad won it in 1939. Another vintage spoon, from the Carnarvon Ladies Bowling Club, was her grandma’s.

“I don't often look at them,” Catherine admits. “But when I do, I think ‘Oh I went there and I got that’.” And so, while she says her spoons spend most of their time stored in a box, she’s already plotting her next acquisitions — when she goes to Greece and Albania, her husband’s homeland, later in the year.

JAN AND BOB WESTON

Jan and Bob Weston and their postcard collection.

When Jan and Bob Weston went on a six-week holiday to France last year, they sent no fewer than 59 postcards, and bought perhaps twice that number as souvenirs.

“I never send less than 50 and probably buy another 100 to keep,” Jan admits. “People say have you been to so-and-so and I say yes, I’ve got a postcard for that.”

The couple have been collecting postcards for about a decade — approximately the same length of time they’ve been spending an extended period in France each year. And though they say postcards are becoming harder to find, these days their collection numbers into the thousands.

“The first thing I want to do when I get anywhere is see if there are postcards,” Jan says.

They have travelled all over Europe and to other destinations including Turkey, Singapore and Malaysia but France features most prominently in their collection, with postcards grouped by region in thick wads: Provence, Alsace, Brittany, Champagne, Burgundy, Paris and more.

“We’re real Francophiles,” Jan says. The countryside reminds the couple of the England of their childhoods, and they like the climate and the locals. Bob even completed a PhD on a French subject — “Medical consulting by letter in 17th and 18th century France” — a few years ago.

Their favourite destination is Hyeres, in Provence. “We’ve had the same apartment now that we’ve hired from the same lady for five years and she’s become a very good friend,” Jan says. “It’s just like coming home.”

And indeed, flicking through the stack of postcards from Hyeres and surrounds is akin to a walk down memory lane. They point out cafes they’ve eaten at, laneways they’ve wandered down, squares they’ve had coffee in.

However, the postcards the couple buy are only part of their collection. “It’s a two-way thing,” Bob says. “We’ve got these friends of ours who we’ve trained (to send them to us).”

As a result, they have been sent postcards from all over the world — Singapore, London, Norway, Martinique and St Tropez so far this year.

They even have a friend who sends them postcards of Cottesloe beach when they’re in France.

Each takes its place on a dedicated pin-up board until the end of the year.

“It feels like you’re on holiday with these people,” Jan says.