“What do you want in Jordan?” I’m asked as I attempt to cross the border. “Climbing and hiking,” I answer, trying not to blink or look dodgy. The border patrol looks at me with suspicion.
“Maybe a jeep tour, as well,” I hear myself say.
I am starting to sweat. The border from Israel to Jordan closes in 10 minutes and I have made it all the way from Tel Aviv just in time. I have no intention of giving up now. I was told by Shadi Khries, electronic music producer and one of the headliners of the SA7RA-OUI festival, to say as little as possible. No location, no names. The organisers want to stay under the radar.
I’m here to attend the SA7RA-OUI in Wadi Rum, a music festival, I’m told, that’s very different to the others. Hosted by local Bedouins, organised by a French production company and Jordanians from Amman, and attended by Palestinians, Israelis, Jordanians, French and Germans alike, the event embodies the bridging power inherent in music.
As Shadi puts it simply, “The desert gives freedom. We listen to what we want, we dance how we want, and we wear what we want.”
In this dried-up riverbed, all rules are different. Red rocks of sandstone and granite seem to rise randomly into the sky, reaching up to 800 metres high. “We call it The Valley of the Moon,” says Mohammad, one of the hosts from the local Bedouin clan. Dressed all in white with a traditional red keffiyeh – a checkered piece of cloth tied with a black cord around the head – he greets the first guests. Some arrive at nightfall by 4WD, their beaming headlights a beacon in the darkness, moving through the desert valley like a distant torch procession.
Mohammad shakes hands, a cigarette seemingly glued to the corner of his mouth. When he laughs, which he does often, he reveals teeth slightly stained by tobacco and Arabic coffee. “This is our land,” he says, and he is not wrong. Bedouins make up 40 per cent of the Jordanian population and have inhabited these dusty plains for around 500 years. Next to the dance floor, men are lighting a bonfire, and preparing coffee and tea for the newcomers. Hospitality is a crucial part of their identity. “We just continue our tradition – receiving strangers and wanderers of the desert, giving them shelter and food,” Mohammad explains.
For years, Shadi has been friends with the Bedouins from the village. “We agreed we have to break down all barriers,” he says in his quiet yet penetrating voice. “You have to be very careful, respect the place and find common energy with the people living here. It cannot be about girls, mingling and cocktails, but only about the music.”
This time, he’s invited Paris-based duo Acid Arab to be the night’s highlight. Members Guido Minisky and Hervé Carvalho interweave Middle Eastern strings, percussion and Arabic scales into the framework of electronic music, allowing instruments such as the rebab, oud and qanbus to dive deep into the fabric of the club sound. Whenever they hit a familiar Jordanian tune and twist the knob in the right direction, Bedouins begin jumping from the rocks into the middle of the dance floor, taking each other and the foreigners by the hands and moving to the beat in ecstasy.
“What an interesting experience – dancing in such a crowd,” says Simon, one of the attendees, his expression a mixture of excitement and astonishment. As the only Jewish guest from Israel, he rarely finds himself having fun with his Arab neighbours. “But this is the next step, this is transcendence,” he says before I see his afro disappear through the crowd.
Next to him, Spiro and Daniel from Bethlehem are shaking their dreadlocks. Their hearts belong to trance music, but they confess it’s a somewhat elusive love. “A trance or electronic scene is almost non-existent in Palestine,” says one. “You have to look for it.” According to him, Arab countries of the Middle East are still in their infancy when it comes to contemporary electronic music.
On the other hand, this is why festivals are still authentic, dedicated spaces for the true counterculture and the outcasts. Especially for musicians, bookers and producers from the underground scene in the West Bank and Gaza who have a hard time expressing their art and building a crowd. They lack funding, freedom of movement and visas to go abroad, making it hard to pursue an international music career. As a result, many bands have their fan base in places they can never visit; meanwhile their compositions travel across oceans to places like Paris, Brussels or Berlin. In the Middle East, however, music is a matter charged with politics and every line-up is a statement.
“If you want to listen to Acid Arab and dance without an intervention, you are forced to retreat to such remote areas,” explains Shadi. After the festival, he will leave immediately for Paris. Only the desert can seem to keep him a few days in his home country. “There is freedom in the desert. We have to charge this area with new energy.”
With these words in mind, I gather my belongings the next morning and shake the red dust from my hair, shoes and bags. Some guests have moved their mattresses to higher ground to wake up with the sunrise. Slowly, the light creeps up from behind the mountains. In the distance, a girl pulls her yellow suitcase over a sand dune.
Two 4WD rides, one traffic jam and three police checks later, I am once again facing the border. The Israeli official looks at me and I do not blink. He asks me if I have any Arab friends. “No, sir.” And if I have visited any Arabs. “No, of course not.” What did I do in Jordan? “Climbing and hiking,” I say with a smile. “Climbing and hiking.”
Mist infiltrates a swirl of primeval dwarf juniper trees as we clamber over their gnarled roots. All around us, spongy sphagnum peat moss is iridescent in the muted light. I half expect to see Frodo Baggins sitting on one of the misshapen jet-black basalt boulders we pass.
We’re hiking in Mistérios Negros, or the Dark Mysteries, a trail that meanders through the largest endemic forest on Terceira, one of the nine lush volcanic islands that make up the Azores. It’s a landscape unlike anything I’ve ever seen and it’s both invigorating and disorienting.
A sense of the surreal permeates this Portuguese archipelago, which sprawls across the cobalt depths of the Atlantic Ocean right where the Eurasian, African and North American tectonic plates collide, about a third of the way between Lisbon and Boston.
The vegetation alone is fascinating. Japanese cedar trees were introduced centuries ago to be made into shipping crates for oranges sent to England. Country roads lined with long alleys of plane trees and enormous hydrangeas look like France on steroids. Fast-growing eucalyptus climbs hillsides. Laurel and yellow ginger, camellias and bougainvillea, ferns and bananas, figs and morning glory grow in profusion everywhere. Many are legacies of the Age of Discovery, when Portugal dominated the world’s trading routes 500-odd years
ago and sea captains brought back exotica to these shores.
Around every corner are astonishing vistas. Cerulean crater lakes and basalt cliffs dripping with waterfalls speak of Hawaii or New Zealand, dappled dairy cows in emerald fields fenced with stone take cues from Irish pastures, and pastel-hued seaside towns look like they’ve been plucked straight out of the Mediterranean.
Despite the Azores location in the North Atlantic, the climate is surprisingly mild due to the influence of the Gulf Stream. Watching the weather here is likened to a spectator sport. From caldera ridges, billowing cumulus clouds roll around the heavens as vast sheets of rain sweep across slate seas, up arching cliffs and over green fields, only to eventually dissipate again amid bright bolts of sunshine and rainbows.
There’s a refreshing simplicity in the rhythms of its pious farming and fishing culture, which meshes remarkably well with a quiver of eco-tourism and adrenaline-filled adventure. Between lazy afternoons wandering the towns, we are seduced by the region’s activities: whale watching, surfing, diving with manta rays, swimming with dolphins, walking inside volcanoes and bathing in hot springs.
Each of the nine islands is distinguished by its geography, geology and history. Over my journey across the two largest islands of the Azores, São Miguel and Terceira, tantalising details of the other islands ensure I vow to return.
It’s a Saturday night when we arrive in Ponta Delgada, the urban hub of São Miguel and the gateway to the Azores, and locals are spilling from tiny restaurants and bars onto the black-and-white calçada (mosaic stone-like) footpaths of the old town’s narrow streets. Given the region’s reputation for deliciously fresh seafood, we waste no time and squeeze into buzzing A Tasca, where we feast on fresh tuna and bacalau (salted cod).
São Miguel’s hinterlands are a highlight and our guide is gregarious volcanologist, musician and reiki enthusiast Jorge Valerio, the 27-year-old Renaissance man behind Holistika tour company. For him, the essence of São Miguel comes from ancient volcanic energies and our adventures tap into this spiritual dimension.
At Sete Cidades, twin blue and green lakes are framed within a massive caldera to create a gasp-inducing Azorean vista that can’t be likened to anything else in the world. Walking along the vertiginous hydrangea and ginger-lined caldera rim from Vista del Rei, a viewpoint that sits seven kilometres west of Ponta Delgada, we ogle at limpid lakes and patchworks of fields and hedgerows. The aromas of the warm brown earth mix with the salty tang of the sea, while seagulls caw over the ocean on one side and church bells ring on the other. Astoundingly, the panoramas get even better when we reach Boca do Inferno, which overlooks tree-fringed lakes, each a slightly different shade of turquoise.
To get here, we meander over voluptuous hills and down a steep basalt cliff aiming to reach the destination halfway between the high and low tides to get the perfect mix of hot spring and cold ocean water. But this isn’t an experience for the faint-hearted. To enter the pool, we clamber across slippery rocks, climb down a metal ladder and hang on to the ropes to avoid getting swept away by the ocean.
As we make our way to Lagoa das Furnas, a large geyser and hot springs-filled volcanic basin an hour’s drive east of Ponta Delgada, Jorge explains that, in São Miguel, volcanoes are really at the centre of everything. They even play a role in cooking, which we learn when we stop by Lake Furnas where chicken, blood sausage, pork, root vegetables and cabbage are stewed and steamed in underground springs to create cozido das furnas. We get a chance to taste this authentic Azorean cuisine at Restaurante Tony’s in the fumarole-fringed town of Furnas.
Volcanic geothermal springs are dotted throughout the town and while the architecturally designed Poça da Dona Beija is close by, we opt for a soak in the khaki-coloured pool in the remarkable eighteenth-century gardens of Terra Nostra Park. Today, these botanic gardens are among the largest and most diverse in Europe. We wander among the endemic Azorean plants, colourful camellias, giant Amazonian lilies, azaleas and rhododendrons, and Australian hoop pines, eucalypts and bungalow palms.
With our bodies rejuvenated from the warm waters of the springs, we toast the final sunset on the island with an aromatic white wine from Pico Island’s UNESCO-listed vineyards while we dine on char-grilled limpets and parrotfish on the terrace of Bar Caloura, listening to the sounds of the waves crashing against the volcanic rocks below.
When we arrive at Praia de Vitoria on Terceira, I’m not sure what to expect. There’s a healthy jostling between islands, each competing for the title of most beautiful. I’m told there are no caldera lakes or hot springs like the ones on São Miguel. Instead, Terceira has two colonial cities, brightly trimmed, whitewashed villages, marine adventures and a treasure trove of ornate imperios (miniature shrines to the Holy Ghost), which hint to the island’s older rhythms.
During the Age of Discovery, the city of Angra do Heroismo was a bustling port for Portuguese ships bringing gold, silver and spices from Asia, Africa and the Americas. Its bishops and merchants wasted no time in fashioning elaborate mansions and churches and, as we explore Angra’s cobblestoned streets, it’s easy to understand why this became Portugal’s first UNESCO World Heritage site.
We enjoy seafood pasta at contemporary Tasca das Tias and excellent coffee at the retro A Minha Casa, which wouldn’t look out of place in Melbourne’s Brunswick. We also climb up to a huge fort built on Monte Brasil, the remnant of a tuff volcano, and enjoy its magnificent views. There are at least 80 shipwrecks in the bay, which can be explored via an underwater wreck trail.
Keen to see some of the region’s 25 whale and dolphin species, we jump aboard a small, semi-inflatable high-speed boat for a whale-watching tour with Ocean Emotion. On-shore spotters radio the boats with the position of whales, replicating the way things were done in the past when the Azores was a busy whaling hub. It’s gratifying to see how a traditional whaling culture has been converted into one of the world’s best whale-watching centres. Marine biologist Breno Toste is our host, and we spot half a dozen sperm whales, which live year-round in the Azores. He explains that this is the world’s largest toothed predator and it has the biggest brain of any creature on earth.
We spend the afternoon with SailTours, sailing across the waves to Ilheu das Cabras, a dual islet that’s a nesting site for Cory’s shearwaters. We snorkel in the translucent waters of the islands’ marine reserve and marvel at the lime-green fields atop black basalt cliffs.
Our marine experience satisfied, we head inland with Sea Adventures on a volcano tour to Algar do Carvao, an ancient volcanic vent that was formed thousands of years ago when all the magma drained out of the volcano’s cone. From above, dense vegetation hides all traces of the lava tube but, as we wander down the 90-metre-deep chimney of black obsidian, the acoustics inside the giant cathedral-like dome are so superb we’re not surprised to learn that special concerts are sometimes held here.
It’s the rustic-charmed Ti Choa farm-to-table restaurant in Serrata that entices us through its doors that night. Here, we feast on Azorean specialties such as alcatra, beef roasted in a terracotta pot and cooked in a wood-fired oven, and molasses Dona Amelia tarts dusted with powdered sugar for a sweet ending.
Despite the breathtaking landscapes, delicious food and fascinating culture, what really captures our attention are the exquisitely painted miniature imperios dotted throughout every village we pass on Terceira. The shrines to the Holy Ghost, of which there are 73 variations representing hope, faith, egalitarianism, solidarity and charity, were introduced by Franciscan mystics and became the centre of weekly post-Easter celebrations, when children are crowned as royalty, feasts are shared, and food is given to the poor.
As our plane takes off the next day and I watch Terceira disappear into the vast inky depths of the Atlantic Ocean, I reflect that the hidden paradise of the Azores has got its philosophy for life just right. Amid its adventures, and harsh landscape, it’s the resilience and generosity of the people that makes visiting these islands even more alluring.
You never forget your first time. I never will. It was on a plane, a Cessna Grand Caravan, and we were flying above the shores of Lake Nakuru. The microphone on my headset was pushed away from my mouth so my frequent squeals and exclamations wouldn’t annoy my fellow passengers. It was tangled in my hair, but I managed to get it back to my lips.
“Rhinoceros!” I yelled, microphone finally readjusted. “It’s a rhinoceros.”
Of course, by the time I manage to spit out the words for my first ever rhino sighting, we’ve flown too far for the nine others onboard to gaze downwards. Instead, everyone is scanning the area below where huge flocks of flamingos are feeding. It is an extraordinary sight. Anyone who has bumped across the plains in a 4WD on safari will know the thrill of spotting any new species for the first time, but spying it from a small plane offers a completely different perspective.
We are winging across Kenya on Scenic Air Safaris’ Endangered Species Safari, a nine-day adventure that will take us into the Maasai Mara in the southwest corner of the country, north past Mount Kenya to the reserves of Samburu and Lewa, and onto the high, dry plateau of Laikipia. Along the way, rather than simply taking guided safaris from luxury camps, we are being accompanied by wildlife experts, many of whom study the continent’s most at-risk animals. It is a rare opportunity to see what conservationists and communities are doing to haul back species from the brink of extinction.
But there is another unique aspect to this journey. The company’s Cessna not only allows guests to travel to Kenya’s farthest corners, it also offers a unique perspective of the landscape and wildlife. Rather than taking off, flying at height and landing, our pilot, Murtaza Walijee, takes any opportunity to descend so we can observe the movements of visible animals. At about 150 metres, it’s possible to spot giraffes plucking leaves from treetops, hippos wallowing in shallow pools, and elephants trudging along dry river beds. None seems offended by the low-flying single-prop aircraft.
It’s one of the most comfortable ways you’ll ever safari – each of the padded, first-class seats has its own window, so you never miss a thing. Plus, at the beginning of each flight, everyone takes turns to call shotgun for the co-pilot’s spot.
My early rhino experience has me excited to get closer to these curious creatures, but first we are on the way to Laikipia, where Simon Kenyon has been surveying African wild dogs. From his base at Sosian Lodge, he’s come to the conclusion there are about 300 in the region. In all of Africa, it’s thought there are probably only about 3500 dogs, which makes them as rare as pandas.
“Much of the land around here used to be cattle and sheep farms, so the dogs would go through and kill 50 sheep in a single night,” he tells us as we’re parked high on a ridge, transmitter out, trying to get a read on where one of the packs may be thanks to collars on a couple of the dogs. “The farmers would shoot them, but they’re also susceptible to rabies and canine distemper.”
So rare were the dogs, with their big ears and dark spots painted on tan fur, Simon was 18 before he even saw one – it was love at first sight. It
set him on a path to discover as much as possible about the smallest of Kenya’s big carnivores.
We get a signal from one of the collars and set off. “They are fascinating and there is such a family dynamic,” says Simon of the dogs as we bounce along a rough track through thorny bush and prickly pears. “When they’re moving and on a mission, they are unbelievable machines. They can travel at up to 50 kilometres an hour.” Working in a pack, they’ll chase prey until the unfortunate animal is completely exhausted. At which point the dogs pounce and tear it to pieces. It’s a bloody jungle out there.
Thankfully, some of the younger dogs with an alpha male have decided to take a break in the shade of a tree. They twitter and yip, sounding a lot like a flock of birds, to communicate with one another. Occasionally, one trots off, peers around, then flops again beneath a bush. Nothing to see here.
We began our journey in the Maasai Mara National Reserve, landing at Keekorok Airstrip to be met by Justin McCarthy and his team from Spirit of the Masai Mara. Soon, we are off in open-top 4WDs to find some of the reserve’s big cats, and the experts – Mara Lion Project’s Niels Mogensen, Dr Elena Chelysheva, who has spent 30 years studying cheetahs, and David Mascall, who’s worked with lions for most of his life – are along for the ride. Within 15 minutes, another driver has radioed through the location of a leopard.
When we arrive, it’s hiding in a hollow trying, one suspects, to escape the heat of the day. It stares and we peer back. Soon, annoyed by cameras whirring and people whispering and pointing, the leopard leaps from its hide, roaring and lunging at the truck before slinking off into the undergrowth. It happens so fast, there is no time to react. One of us could easily have ended up as a leopard lunch.
Dr Chelysheva’s assistant Mandela is soon on the radio, too, reporting the presence of three cheetahs. We park away from the thicket hiding them and soon enough they pad out. Not too far away is a pride of lionesses and their cubs in all stages of adolescence trying to shade themselves from the sun’s rays. One of the largest is lying on her back, paws in the air, revealing her stomach in an attempt to stay cool.
The presence of these big cats is awe-inspiring, particularly as David reveals that three years ago, he’d seen only one lion in the neighbouring Siana Conservancy, where the lodge is located, over the course of two weeks. As we return for dinner, he asks the driver to slow down so he can find the resident pride, which now numbers 14. We spy them in a stand of trees, drinking from a large puddle.
“It takes a lot to kill a lion,” Justin tells me later. “I’ve seen a giraffe take the skin off the head of one and a couple of weeks later it’s been fine.” Of course, humans are a far greater threat to big cats than fellow plains animals, but there are a number of initiatives being implemented so herders and their animals are protected from predation and vice versa. One has been incredibly simple – using solar power to illuminate holding yards at night. Neither lions nor leopards like the artificial light and leave the domestic animals alone.
In the following days, we fly to Samburu to spend time with Saba Douglas-Hamilton and her husband Frank Pope at Save the Elephants. Her father, Iain, formed the organisation in 1993. Now, it tracks 97 Kenyan elephants (and about 130 more across the rest of Africa) using collars fitted with SIM cards.
Out in the bush, Saba introduces us to some of the elephants who live nearby. Anwar is a young bull with a fascination for LandCruisers. He’ll walk right up and sit on the bonnet, she tells us. He’s even smashed a couple of windscreens. “Not out of maliciousness,” says Saba, “but because he’s had his tusks on the bonnet and just moved.”
Another bull, Ban Ki-moon, approaches our parked vehicle. He’s in musth, a breeding cycle male elephants go through. Not only do they secrete from glands near their ears and urinate constantly, but they also become aggressive.
“Whatever you do, don’t move,” Saba says to me as Ban Ki advances. The hairs raise on the back of my neck when he gets so close I can smell the pheromones on his skin. I want to place my hand on his broad head, which is within my reach, but I take a deep breath and remain completely still. Finally, Ban Ki flaps his ears, sending a wave of a fusty hormones over me, before plodding off in search of something more interesting.
Back at Elephant Watch Camp, Saba and Frank tell of how they’ve worked with communities in recent years, convincing them living wildlife is far more valuable in the long term than a dead elephant’s tusks. Finally, it seems the message is taking hold, with elephant numbers increasing and incidences of poaching decreasing. “In 2013, we managed to turn the community against the poachers,” Saba explains. “There were these epic meetings under the trees with all the community and no one would admit they had poachers in their midst.” Finally, one man, who admitted he had killed elephants, stood up. “He pointed out men – 19 in all – who he knew were poachers.”
They’ve also collaborated with Chinese celebrities, like actor Li Bingbing and basketball player Yao Ming, to spread the word about the damage inflicted by ivory poaching. It seems to have worked. On New Year’s Day in 2017, the Chinese government banned the domestic sale and processing of ivory.
The story is similar in the Lewa Wildlife Conservancy, where comparable methods are being used to save rhinos. Each and every rhinoceros that lives on the almost 40,000 hectares – Lewa is managed in conjunction with the neighbouring Borana Conservancy – can be identified, either by markings, their horns or by notches added to their ears.
At a bunker where collared rhinos are tracked and monitored, scientist Ian Lemaiyan runs through the figures. In the 1960s, there were about 70,000 black rhinos in Kenya; by 1993 there were only 2475. Now, it’s thought the population has grown to about 5000. In the Lewa and Borana region there are 63, as well as 75 white rhinos, the more docile, grass-eating species.
Lewa is divided into nine blocks and six rangers will patrol each sector 24 hours a day. “Every time a ranger spots a rhino he radios back to the control centre, identifies the rhino, where it is, its condition and its behaviour,” says Ian. If one hasn’t been seen in three days, the situation is considered critical. On day four, rangers go out specifically looking for it and, if that rhino still hasn’t been found by day five, the helicopter is deployed. If a whole week passes, every resource, including armed security, is sent out to search. It’s serious business.
Thankfully, there have been few recent poaching incidents; Lewa has had none in the past three years.
“The community is our first defence,” says Ian. Health clinics, school libraries and bores have been built, and farmers are allowed to graze their cattle on conservancy land when it’s particularly dry in exchange for protection of the endangered animals. “We’ve also built an education centre so children from across northern Kenya can understand the value of the wildlife.”
As we drive through the conservancy we spot herds of the endangered Grevy’s zebra – hunted almost to extinction for their beautiful hide – and a number of rhinos in the distance, but then see Zaria and her calf just off a track. Up close these are huge and unusual beasts, with wide mouths and enormous horns that appear as though they could skewer any number of poachers. Zaria stomps her feet and shakes her head in warning as we get too close, before putting herself between the 4WD and her baby and marching off.
Thinking back to that first glimpse of a rhinoceros far below our plane, I feel privileged to have been able to see these amazing animals from just metres away. But, more importantly, thankful to the humans who dedicate their lives to ensuring other visitors to Kenya will be able to gawp at these species for generations to come.
Utah’s mighty mix Park City, Canyons and Deer Valley, USA
Three distinct ski resorts in one day, without even taking off your skis? Praise Chione (the Greek goddess of winter and snow), for Utah has delivered the goods. Thanks to a new gondola – unveiled in December 2015 – Park City is now linked with Canyons Resort, creating the largest ski area in the USA. And that’s without even taking into account neighbouring Deer Valley, separated from PC only by a fence.
Boarders can get jibby with it at one of Park City’s eight terrain parks, with more pipes, half-pipes and jumps than you can shake a stick at, just 35 minutes from Salt Lake City. Deer Valley, however, is ski-only terrain. With an annual average of 900 centimetres of the white stuff, the 314 marked trails in the Park City and Canyons resorts are sure to keep both basic blue-riders and diehard black-fighters equally engrossed.
A seven-day pass at Park City (including Canyons) costs US$600. A day pass at Deer Valley starts at US$117. parkcitymountain.com deervalley.com
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Euro loop de loop Arlberg, Austria
Snow enthusiasts have been gliding down slopes in Austria’s Arlberg region for more than a century. And while ski pioneers had to slog uphill to ride among some of Europe’s most dramatic peaks, these days, 87 lifts and cable cars link more than 500 kilometres of runs, so exploring Austria’s largest ski circuit is easy – even for those still finding their ski legs.
Little huts pepper the slopes, serving soup, stews and hearty sausages to hungry powder hounds. And five Tyrolean villages tucked between the hills offer a range of ski-in ski-out sleeping options. For plush resorts and world-renowned après, cruise to the famous town of St Anton. Or for something more laid-back make for a guesthouse in the hamlet of Stuben, home to just a hundred inhabitants during summer.
Seven-day passes offer access to all the region’s cable cars and lifts for US$317. skiarlberg.at
Home to Santa Claus, an abundance of reindeer and two million saunas (steaming a population of 5.5 million), Finland is just the place to embark on a back-country adventure.
On a week-long snowshoeing tour with Upitrek you’ll shuffle through Hossa, a forest of birch, pine and spruce slathered in deep, marshmallow-like snow, which was designated a national park in June. Wander past frozen lakes and through gorges, stopping for fireside lunches and hopefully spotting the local residents – elks, wolves and lynxes – along the way.
One afternoon expedition takes you to observe shamanistic art painted on a rock face with blood and yellow ochre 4000 years ago. Come evening you’ll huddle in cute little cabins. Simple they may be, but you won’t miss out on a sauna. Nor the chance to witness the northern lights.
The six-night Off the Trails Snowshoeing trip costs US$918. upitrek.com
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Outback Alaska Chugach, USA
With only 140 kilometres of road amid an area of Alaska almost 60 times the size of Barbados, the lines you pick while skiing backcountry Chugach will almost certainly be untouched. The second-largest national forest in the country, Chugach boasts glacier-fed fjords, rivers, mountains and rugged islands.
Aside from the seven other travellers and two guides on this Alaska Alpine Adventures trip, it’s unlikely you’ll see any other humans while diving through couloirs and snaking across powder bowls. And the only thing you’ll hear is the gentle crunch of your skis slicing through pristine corn snow. Best of all, ski junkies cut through the slopes for up to eight hours a day, returning to the comfort of their 65-foot yacht every night before anchoring near a fresh slice of shoreline the following morning.
Though popular among Brits (it’s the cheapest place in Europe to buy a six-day ski pass, and a beer is less than AU$2.50), Bulgaria’s runs are yet to draw crowds of Aussies. Situated 160 kilometres south-west of capital Sofia, Bansko offers 70 kilometres of marked pistes, some rising to an altitude of 2500 metres. Coniferous forest carpets the slopes, which are part of the UNESCO-listed Pirin National Park. It’s prime beginner territory, but there’s good off-piste for the advanced, and snowboarders can frequent the extreme fun park.
There’s plenty to entertain in Bansko’s medieval town too; nose around cobblestone streets, through market stalls and past nineteenth-century mansions. Later, visit one of the 200 traditional taverns, known as mehane. Sit by a roaring fire and tuck into local merlot and hearty, home-cooked dishes, such as chomlek – a rich claypot stew of beef knuckle, chilli and potato.
You’ve never heard of it, but neither has anyone else, making Newfoundland’s Marble Mountain just the ticket for a crowd-free ski retreat. Situated in the foothills of the Appalachians, a 2400-kilometre long chain of mountains, the resort is one of the best-kept secrets in alpine skiing.
A whopping five metres of snow dumps on Marble Mountain’s pristine landscape each year, ensuring the resort’s 39 runs – catering to the entire skill-level spectrum – offer top-notch skiing. Best of all though, is the 518-metre vertical drop, which is the highest of any ski area in Canada’s Atlantic region. Throw in the high-speed Lightning Express lift (so named because its predecessor was destroyed during an electrical storm) and you’ll be powering through the mountain’s foothills from dawn ’til dusk with local snow enthusiasts to keep you company.
Winter equals short days, but the fun doesn’t have to end just because the sun sets. At Maribor Pohorje – a resort tucked within the forested Pohorje Mountains – 10 kilometres of runs are illuminated at night on Thursday through Saturday, making it the largest night-skiing site in all of Europe. The resort’s cable car is less than 15 minutes by bus from Maribor, Slovenia’s second-largest city, so you can wander the banks of the Drava River and streets lined with baroque facades and terracotta-topped buildings during daylight hours before fanging down the slopes until 9pm.
If your idea of a holiday well spent involves skiing 18 hours straight, then you’ve come to the right place. Open from 9am until 3am every Friday and Saturday during the ski season, the 25 trails and four freestyle parks at Crotched Mountain in New Hampshire are night-skiing paradise.
Carve up fresh powder; bask in the bonfire parties hosted by DJs; enjoy concerts and microbrews at the Onset Pub; and behold the resort’s famous block parties, where skiers and snowboarders bust out their best tricks for cash prizes. Inns and B&Bs are located nearby, but for the ultimate adventure, drive up from Boston (1.5 hours away) and get involved in the group lockup: ride late into the night before ‘camping’ in the main lodge (BYO sleeping bag), and in the morning indulge in a buffet breakfast.
Lift passes with access from 9pm to 3am cost US$40. crotchedmtn.com
Beaten only by rain pummelling a tin roof, listening to the rush of a waterfall is an excellent way to unwind. But come winter, Fish Creek Falls near the ski resort in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, offers an altogether different waterfall experience.
From December to March, ice climbers test their mettle by scaling the 60-metre-high falls, where the thwack of a carefully aimed pick or a crampon piercing the wall of ice replaces the burble of water. Pull an a harness and discover just how well you deal with heights.
A small fabric wing and a pair of skis are all you’ll need for one of the zaniest sports to hit the slopes. A cross between freestyle skiing and paragliding, speed riding promises a heady mix of both flying and skiing virgin runs.
Practise at the speed ride school in Andorra – the first of its kind in the Pyrenees. You’ll take off from the highest summits of Grandvalira’s steep, craggy slopes and sail over forest-freckled valleys. Only those with a good level of skiing (and courage) should dabble – speed riding comes with a not-to-be-sniffed-at risk of injury or death.
When it comes to hedonism, few have lived up to the “treat yourself” mantra as well as citizens of the Roman Empire. Luckily for you, a relic of their indulgence remains etched in the Italian Dolomites.
Steep your sore, ski-weary body in baths first built 2000 years ago and restored as part of the QC Terme Bagni Vecchi wellness centre. Find respite simmering in a natural hot spring hidden in a cave, where water temperatures sit at a delicious 40°C and soak in the outdoor pool that offers panoramic views of the ski runs snaking Bormio’s alpine landscape.
Finding a steaming hot bath in the middle of a snow-covered forest is akin to wandering through a desert and happening upon fresh water – pure fantasy. Unless you’ve chosen to explore Wyoming’s Bridger-Teton National Forest, home to Granite Hot Springs, that is.
Streak through pines on the back of a snowmobile, then leave your clothes (and your inhibitions) behind in the change rooms and tiptoe in staccato along the frosty boardwalk. Your reward will be sinking into hot and steamy bliss.
Snowmobile trips with entry to the springs cost US$207. togwoteelodge.com
If carving up black runs is too daunting but blues don’t satisfy your desire for adrenaline, unhitch your skis and plant your feet in a rally car instead. At the Ice Driving Academy at Val Thorens ski resort, skilled instructors are on hand to teach you how to control a vehicle while zooming over snow.
Set 2200 metres above sea level, the 760-metre circuit is Europe’s highest racetrack, and the first stage of the annual Andros Trophy, so you’re really riding with the pros. After a few loops you might even have the nerve to tackle the legendary Combe de Caron — the resort’s toughest black run — when you return to skis.
Hold onto your sled; you’re about to glide through backcountry Colorado with a team of Alaskan huskies at your beck and call. Family-owned Grizzle-T Sledding has been leading tours for some 15 years, allowing guests to drive their very own team of dogs across two private tracks.
The 20-kilometre-long West Trail is arguably the most eventful, skating through the rugged belly of Colorado’s mountainous ranch country. Speed between canyons and open meadows blanketed in bridal white, hurtle across a ravine and surf over undulating hills, all while taking in the surrounding peaks of the Flat Tops and Elk Mountain. You might even spot a coyote or two.
Fat biking, the latest trend in ski-free winter activities, has made its mark on North America’s mountains. The bikes are fitted with extra-wide tyres and your route is over snow not soil, but other than that it’s just like mountain biking.
At Quebec’s Mont-Tremblant, 60 kilometres of track winds through the maple and birch trees, with about a third reserved exclusively for bikes – and the occasional moose. A few steep climbs will have you shedding layers, but you’ll be rewarded with exhilarating descents and awesome views. And with a blanket of white offering some padding should you fall, you can really pick up speed.
Two-hour trips with D-Tour cost AU$70, including gear and a guide. dtourtremblant.com
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On Your Feet Vallee de Joux, Switzerland
When life gives you frozen water, skate on it. At least that’s what the Swiss do. And Switzerland’s Jura Massif offers prime sliding material. Come January, the 9.5 square kilometres of Lac de Joux transforms into Europe’s largest open-air skating rink.
Enterprising locals set up shop by the shore, selling refreshments and renting out all the equipment you’ll need for an afternoon spent practising your pirouettes. And when it’s time for a break you won’t even need to leave the ice to slurp down soup or a steaming cup of glühwein (mulled wine).
Run With the Pack Polar Park Arctic Wildlife Centre, Norway
Find your wolfpack in the wilds of Norway. Narvik, up in the country’s north, offers an impressive winter lineup – fjord-side skiing, shimmering auroras and the chance to learn about how the Sami people survive in all that snow.
The cherry on top is Polar Park, an hour’s drive away. In this 110-hectare zoo, bears, lynxes, arctic foxes, reindeer and musk oxen roam free, and guests can experience one-on-one interaction with critically endangered wolves. Those with an extra soft spot for these four-legged beasts should spend the night at WolfLodge, a comfy house set in the middle of one of the enclosures. Come morning, you might even score a cuddle with your furry friends. Although these wolves are socialised, park guides keep a close eye on each encounter. Don’t try this in the wild, folks!
Entry to Polar Park costs AU$42.
A visit to the wolf enclosure is AU$240. polarpark.no
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Bison Bonanza Yellowstone National Park, USA
Eons ago, 30 million bison roamed the North American continent. Loss of habitat and poaching whittled that number down to half a million, while in Europe hunters brought the wild beasts to near extinction. But in USA’s Yellowstone National Park, 5500 bison – the country’s national mammal – remain, and as they forage for up to 11 hours a day they’re easy to spot in the landscape.
Take a break from skiing at nearby Jackson Hole to join a Scenic Safaris tour to the Old Faithful geyser, where you’ll spy all kinds of creatures drawn to the warmth of the park’s bubbling mud pots and hissing fumaroles. Observe elk and rare grey wolves, and watch bison swinging their heads from side to side as they plough through snow on the hunt for grasses, just as they’ve done in this region since prehistoric times.
The 12-hour Old Faithful Snow Coach trip starts at AU$360 per person. scenic-safaris.com
When it comes to extremes, Iceland’s full of them – vast glaciers, seething geysers and volcanoes that spit tantrums beside the broiling sea. It also boasts the lowest population density in Europe. At three inhabitants per square kilometre it’s just the spot to test your own limits, free from any observers sniggering when you eat snow.
Join a heli-skiing adventure with Eleven Experience, which whisks guests to the remote northern Troll Peninsula, up near the Arctic Circle. Here you’ll coast through fjords and valleys, and race from summit to sea on sheets of untouched snow. Go in spring when the days are long, the North Atlantic Ocean glimmers below and the sunset lingers on the horizon.
Canada’s 4019-metre-high Coast Mountains may look impressive from the foothills, but fly over their jagged peaks and you’ll realise you’ve underestimated the true power of Mother Nature. Nowhere more so than Pemberton Icecap — an icefield about the size of Malta in the southernmost portion of the mountains.
Modern-day explorers can wander through a labyrinth of blue caves of cathedral-like proportions and run their fingers across their glassy ice walls. Head-Line Mountain Holidays scoops up passengers from the famous Whistler resort and choppers them away from the crowds. From your airborne chariot you’ll take in sky-high views of the icefield before touchdown in a landscape that looks as though a higher being upended a giant jar of Miracle Whip.
If you need a break from exploring Norway’s frosted landscape under your own steam, let a train do all the work. Considered one of the most beautiful rail journeys in the world, the Flåm Railway weaves from Myrdal in Aurland — passing through Vatnahalsen, where there’s outstanding cross-country terrain — to the town of Flåm, right by a fjord.
The train’s plush red seats and rustic atmosphere offer gold-class comfort, but you’ll probably be too busy with your nose pressed up against the glass to notice as you chug past the blue-tinged landscape of frosted trees, marzipan peaks and flash-frozen waterfalls on the hour-long journey. While in Flåm be sure to stop by Ægir, a brewery set in a Norse Viking-style church.
Or book RailPlus’s Norway in a Nutshell package, which takes you to some of the country’s best sites from US$117. railplus.com.au
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Slow Road Anchorage, USA
Don’t be surprised if you come to a halt while riding the Aurora Winter Train; someone’s no doubt spotted a moose. Wending through 572 kilometres of Alaskan countryside, this route is all about the journey (though the destination is terrific, too).
After departing Anchorage, the locomotive cruises past birch forests, great lakes and beaver dams, with branch nests visible from your carriage. Animals aren’t the only cause for pause either – the train freezes in the middle of Hurricane Gulch Bridge, allowing you to peer 90 metres to the creek below; stops for views of Denali, the highest summit in North America; and halts to pick up locals who hail a ride from the side of the tracks.
Twelve hours later you’ll roll into Fairbanks, the most reliable place to see the northern lights in Alaska and a half-hour’s drive from Ski Land, boasting the northernmost chairlift on the continent.
One-way trips from AU$179. Email gtj@railplus.com.au to book your ride. railplus.com.au
Installed amid unspoilt Sami ancestral land and accessible only on skis, this rural Swedish restaurant throws shade on almost every other destination dining spot on earth.
Everything about Tusen, meaning ‘thousand’, pays homage to nature’s bounty – from the slender local birch trees that skirt the circular edifice, to the reindeer and trout served on local stone plates. In fact, judges at the World Architectural Festival in 2009 were so floored by Tusen’s design and concept that they awarded the restaurant first prize in the event’s holiday category. Located in the small ski resort of Ramundberget, some 600 kilometres north-west of Stockholm, and close to the Norwegian border, this is one of the most snow-secure ski areas in all of Sweden.
Hurtling through the Canadian wilderness on a snowmobile is one sure-fire way to work up an appetite. The Yukon Breakfast experience takes you on an adrenaline-pumping snowmobile trip, from Whistler to Mount Sproatt, through the rugged, pine-filled backcountry of British Columbia.
A rustic mountaintop log cabin awaits your arrival, and breakfast is prepared on a wood-fired stove while you enjoy views of frosted peaks. The feast is everything a hearty Canadian breakfast should be: Yukon gold potatoes, Canadian black bacon, scrambled eggs, local veggies, cheddar cheese and, best of all, pancakes with lashings of real maple syrup. It’ll stand you in good stead for a day on Whistler’s famous trails.
Nothing hits that hungry spot better than molten, golden cheese scraped from a six-kilogram wheel onto baked potatoes and pickles. Made with milk from cows fed on alpine pastures, Switzerland’s national dish of raclette is a mainstay at European ski resorts.
No one does it better than the little hut of Cabane des Taules, perched at 2000 metres above sea level in Switzerland’s Valais region. Here raclette is prepared outdoors for the crowds that settle into plastic chairs on the slope and wash down their meal with bubbly apfelschorle (apple juice and sparkling water) and local wine as they look out over the Alps.
When Canadians say, “How aboot you try a beaver tail?” they’re not suggesting you munch on a furry creature’s appendage. Rather, these quintessential Canadian snacks are paddles of hand-stretched, deep-fried dough, typically frosted with cinnamon and sugar.
The pastry is thought to have derived from bannock (bread) cooked by settlers, who were inspired by indigenous Canadians roasting real beaver tails over open fires. These days BeaverTails pastries are a much-loved post-ski snack, often consumed while roaming the pedestrian village at the foothills of Mont Tremblant in Quebec.
Nothing will blast the cold from your insides like a hot and heavenly glass of Bombardino. According to local legend, the booze-heavy brew was first conceived in Lombardy, in the country’s north, when a group of friends stumbled into a ski resort as a blizzard raged outside. To stave off the cold, the owner simmered up a heady concoction of brandy and advocaat and topped it off with a dollop of whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon.
These days it’s served at establishments all over Italy’s slopes, often with an extra kick courtesy of a shot of fresh espresso.
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Rummy Good Time USA
Two parts rum, a quarter part butter and infinite parts delicious, hot buttered rum (or HBR to the veterans out there) is a piste-side staple that dates back to the USA’s colonial days.
Stir your cinnamon stick and soak up the sweet, rich cloud of warmth. There can be no better spot to sample this spiced, warming libation than perched upon a bar stool at the sleek and stately Duchin Lounge – an Idaho institution. Part of Sun Valley – the continent’s oldest resort, established in 1936 – this lodge has seen American icons such as Marilyn Monroe and Ernest Hemingway, among others, stroll its corridors.
Ski-in ski-out sun terrace, toffee-infused vodka and all-day entertainment every day of the week? Welcome to Le Rond Point, where you’ll find some of France’s finest après-ski. Fondly known as the Ronnie, this venue at the Méribel ski resort may be the largest ski bar in the country, but it’s far from a sell-out.
Punctuate your day navigating the resort’s 328 pistes with Ronnie’s steaming mugs of vin chaud (mulled wine), and kick back with a burger or pork hot off the spit while taking in panoramic views with a side of sunshine. As with every good European après establishment, the party kicks off in the afternoon with live music and dancing in your snow boots.
Forget the snow – for skiers in Colorado’s A-basin it’s all about the Beach. To learn the nuts and bolts of this destination party spot is to realise that its moniker is wildly incongruous, for the Beach is an impromptu rave in a car park at the bottom of a ski slope that begins ludicrously early.
Revellers arrive armed with barbecues, beer kegs and deck chairs from 7am, popping their car boots to get the party started. And whenever Beach-goers need a breather there’s an easy escape route, with lifts to some of the steepest and highest skiable terrain in North America right at your feet.
From US$45 per parking spot, which has room for two vehicles. arapahoebasin.com
Modern incarnations of the traditional yurt and teepee have sprouted up in Utah’s Wasatch Mountain Range. But instead of simple conical shelters made from buffalo hide, the 10 rotund yurts at Whisper Ridge Resort are kitted out with queen-size beds, solar-powered lights, dressers and armchairs.
Snowcats and helicopters transport guests out to some of North America’s best (and biggest) backcountry, where annual snowfall of over a metre creates a pristine canvas on the 25,000-hectare terrain. After painting your own trails on 3600-metre vertical runs, return to the glamping set-up for a buffet and the warmth of the wood-fired hot tub.
A day of skiing and a night’s stay costs US$870 per person. whisperridgeutah.com
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DYI Igloo Engelberg, Switzerland
Sub-zero conditions and physical labour – what could be more romantic? For an unconventional stay in the Swiss Alps why not build your own love nest out of snow together with your plus one? Under the watchful eye of an Iglu-Dorf igloo expert you’ll craft a cosy, frozen home block-by-block on the slopes.
But it’s not all hard graft. Welcome drinks and pastries are supplied upon arrival; prosecco and antipasto platters are served come sundown; morning tea is delivered right to your sleeping bag and there’s even a hot tub begging to warm cold limbs. But best of all, it’s just you and your better half sleeping under the stars, with a slice of hushed Alpine landscape all to yourselves.
Build your own igloo from US$515 per person. iglu-dorf.com
Even a tale by the Brothers Grimm would fall short of the whimsy found at Les Chalets de Philippe. Facing Mont Blanc, these kitsch wooden hideaways – some accessible via stairs so steep they resemble ladders – brim with antique furniture and are warmed by wood-stoked fires.
Most of the treehouse-esque suites boast private hot tubs, perfect for unknotting muscles, plus there’s a hammam in the garden and a private cinema to help you reach peak relaxation. The hotel oozes history, especially in the seventeenth-century dining hall where French cuisine is served at a shared table by candlelight.
Strap on your skis, because the only way to reach Skoki Lodge is by tackling an 11-kilometre trail deep in the Canadian Rockies.
Departing from Lake Louise, the route takes you up over Deception Pass and seemingly back to the 1930s – when Skoki welcomed its first guests. Retired snowshoes and wooden skis line the walls, stoves still heat the nine rooms and cabins, baths are by sponge and steaming bowls of water, and candles promise enough light for a game of late-night Scrabble. That’s if you escape the food coma brought on by the spread of exceptional homemade food.
It may have started out as a seventeenth-century bakery, but Berge guesthouse at the foot of the Bavarian Alps is as modern as they come. Revamped by renowned designer Nils Holger Moormann in his signature minimalist style, the 16 self-catering apartments were created with solitude and relaxation in mind.
Wood, stone and brick all feature prominently and there’s no room service, television or telephones in the individually designed spaces. A cable car ships skiers to the Kampenwand pistes directly behind the retreat, while a labyrinth of cross-country tracks wind through the woods with another eight ski fields promising powder just a short drive away.
When your knees are sore, your cheeks cold and your feet longing for freedom from rigid boots, the Coachman Hotel is your friend. Just five minutes’ walk from the ski gondola to Heavenly Mountain ski resort (Cali’s largest), this former 60s motel has undergone a multimillion-dollar overhaul that has left competitors reeling in its wake.
Curl up under a blanket and toast complimentary s’mores over the firepit, melt away the day in a bubbly hot tub or simply burrow down in your luxury Frette linens and watch a movie on the 43-inch HDTV. And when you’re ready to hit the slopes again the next day, load up on double shot lattes from Portland’s Stumptown Coffee Roasters at the hotel bar.
This year marks the eightieth anniversary for family-owned, five-star Gasthof Post. The hotel – situated a short stroll from Lech’s slopes – is just the type of lodge you picture when you think of the Alps.
Each room is decorated with local antiques, paintings of hunts and an abundance of wood. Quaint it may be, but don’t judge a book by its cover – a new spa offers a range of beauty and relaxation treatments, and guests who fancy a swim can plunge into the 30ºC outdoor swimming pool with panoramic views of the peak of Omeshorn. Best of all is the restaurant, which dishes up local produce of such quality you’ll forget you ever imagined Austrian cuisine was solely stews and strudel.
When snow falls softly outside, nothing beats sinking into an armchair by a crackling fire. And at Lake Placid Lodge in upstate New York the stone fireplaces outnumber guest rooms almost two-to-one, so there’s always somewhere to sit and warm your toes after tackling Whiteface Mountain – the longest vertical drop of any ski mountain on America’s eastern seaboard.
First established in 1882 among the immense woodlands of Adirondack Park, the reconstructed lodge harks back to the grand summer camps built in the region by the nineteenth-century elite. Each of the 13 suites and 17 cabins is individually designed with far more flair than most people are accustomed to at home. And the handcrafted beds created with a twist of branches are truly astonishing.
Fewer travellers set foot in this remote part of Canada’s Barren Lands each year than on the summit of Mount Everest. Jad Davenport heads to the wilderness, where polar bears and beluga whales reign supreme.
Photography by Jad Davenport
We’re so close to the polar bear I can hear him snoring. Terry Elliot, a guide from the nearby Seal River Heritage Lodge, motions for us to stop walking. It’s late September and blades of sunlight slice across the western shore of Hudson Bay in Manitoba. The bear glows a bright ivory against the autumn tundra.
“He’s missing his buddy,” Terry says. “Males like this one hang out with other young males. It’s called ‘pair bonding’. They’ll spend most of their days sleeping and sparring – practice fighting – until winter comes and they can get back out on the ice to hunt seals again.”
Maybe it’s the mention of seals, but the bear snorts awake and rolls to its feet. I’m suddenly aware of just how big it is and how close we are. I’m six foot, five inches tall. A full-grown male can stand twice my height and outweigh a ’68 Volkswagen Beetle.
I raise my camera when the bear grabs a dwarf willow tree in his jaws and rips it from the ground. Then he tosses the mangled vegetation at us.
Terry chuckles. “No, that’s his toy. He wants to play with us.”
While I expected to see polar bears from a distance when I arrived at Seal River several days ago, I didn’t expect to be invited into their world. This is one of the reasons the lodge is unique. Founded by a local family with Canadian and Icelandic roots, Seal River and the other four lodges owned by Churchill Wild offer guests a chance to not just see the untamed Arctic but also to immerse themselves in it, bears and all.
For the past three days, my fellow guests and I have been hiking and voyaging by Zodiac along the pristine coast. Polar bear encounters are frequent, but we’ve also howled back and forth with a pack of wolves, tracked caribou, snorkelled with hundreds of singing beluga whales (some so curious they nudged my GoPro) and explored Inuit archaeological sites.
The morning after the playful bear encounter, we leave the lodge behind for an even more remote destination. A de Havilland Otter ferries us nearly 160 kilometres northwest to Tundra Camp, Churchill Wild’s newest outpost. The wildlife here might be sparser – we spot only a family of black bears from the air – but the draw for us is the Barren Lands. This wilderness of stunted pine forests, rolling tundra and sandy eskers has a population smaller than Broome at Christmas.
Tundra Camp sits on the shores of Schmok Lake. The main base is a rustic hunting cabin and a pair of large tents – one for dining and one for briefings and bad-weather lounging. The sleeping camp – a dozen private expedition tents with cots, sleeping bags and propane heaters – is a short walk beyond the cabin.
Our two-night stay at Tundra Camp might be brief, but the remoteness and the silence of the landscape – and the prolonged hours of summer light – make the days long and full. One of the guides, Josh, leads some of the group along the lakeshore to explore the autumn landscape and pick blueberries. I join Terry and two fit South Africans on an all-day trek. There are no trails out here; we simply follow ancient caribou paths and spend hours roaming over the low granite-capped ridges. Each summit offers another never-ending panorama.
That evening, after moose lasagne and blueberry pie (the French-trained chef has been imported from Seal River), I join everyone around the campfire beside the lake. The sun is down and the Milky Way is starting to materialise. My legs are hammered and my face glows from long days of Arctic sun and wind. I’m hypnotised by the flames. “Look up,” says Terry.
The heavens ripple with tall green and purple curtains: the aurora borealis. We lean back in our chairs. A deep silence falls over us. “The Inuit believe the northern lights are the spirits of their ancestors dancing and playing in the afterlife,” says one of the campers who has travelled in Greenland.
The firewood is gone and the embers cold when we hike back to camp. Before I click off my headlamp and unzip the tent, I look up again. The shimmering spirits are still dancing over the Barren Lands.
Get There
Air Canada flights from Sydney to Winnipeg, where the trip begins, via Vancouver, start at US$1491. aircanada.com
Tour There
Churchill Wild, a family-run outfitter and member of the Magnificent 7 Wilderness Lodges, offers Arctic and sub-Arctic safaris from July through November at its Seal River Heritage Lodge, which specialises in both polar bear viewing and seasonal snorkelling with belugas. Exclusive safaris combining visits to both Seal River and the new tented Tundra Camp in the Barren Lands are available for two weeks each September. Nine-day trips start at US$8133 churchillwild.com
It’s dubbed the last paradise on earth. Keren Lavelle takes to the waters of Raja Ampat to see if this remote archipelago lives up to its reputation.
“OK, everybody,” instructs Aran, our Papuan guide, “move quickly. If you want to see the manta rays, out of the boat now!” We scramble over the edge and the current whisks us away from the vessel. To my surprise, the water is murky with sand – after nearly a week in the snorkelling and diving paradise of Raja Ampat, I take it for granted the water is always going to be silvery, translucent, crystal clear.
I peer hard through my snorkel mask, but can’t see much more than sunlit water filtered with motes of sand. No fish, and certainly no big black shapes. The best snorkellers in our group are diving down deep, but, one by one, they come up shaking their heads. Where are these elusive mantas?
Just as we are about to give up, Andrew, a bloke from Perth, shouts that he’s spotted them. It’s now a race, all of us swimming as fast as we can in the direction he’s pointed. Soon, I too can see these graceful black and white rays idly flapping below me, turning lazy figures of eight. I’m at Manta Sandy where these oceanic giants gather above a handful of rocks to be groomed of parasites and dead skin by wrasse fish. The mantas’ slow, balletic swoops act as a signal to the fish to come and get it.
Manta Sandy is one of the many fascinating diving and snorkelling spots to be found in the Raja Ampat archipelago – more than a thousand islands scattered over 4.5 million hectares of ocean, off the Bird’s Head Peninsula, Indonesian Papua’s northwest tip. The name Raja Ampat means four kings in Indonesian: a poetic reference to the four largest islands. It is smack-bang in the middle of the Coral Triangle, which stretches up from the Great Barrier Reef, taking in Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands and parts of Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines. Raja Ampat is considered to be the richest marine environment of them all, containing 75 per cent of the world’s coral species and around 1500 species of fish.
During our week here, we are treated to several very special snorkelling destinations – all so good I’d be hard-pressed to pick a favourite. Is it the almost-pristine home reef just off the jetty at the Raja Ampat Dive Resort on Waigeo Island? Or perhaps the sandy beach on Yeben Island, where lionfish wave their airy fins as brilliant blue fish dash by? Or Mioskon Reef, where grouper, clown and parrotfish dart around corals wrinkled like oversized brains?
Near Mioskon, we swim into a limestone cave and clamber up a slippery clay slope in order to see a stalagmite shaped like a male member. “What do you call this place?” someone asks. “Penis cave,” replies Aran, not batting an eyelid. Huge schools of fish move as one in the fabulously clear water off the jetty at Sawinggrai Island, where some creatures seem to swim up just to pose for my camera. The spectacular reef cliff of Friwen Bonda boasts enormous red fan corals and fairytale mushroom-shaped ones, but I scrape my foot on a fan, so I can’t choose this as my favourite. With this many options you can afford to be ruthless.
If, as well as superb marine environments, you like a frisson of adrenaline with your aquatic adventures, you can certainly get it here. These islands are in the zone of the Indonesian throughflow, the name given to the vast volumes of water that move between the Pacific and the Indian Oceans. On our second day in Raja Ampat, we travel through the passage between Waigeo and the island of Gam in Kabui Bay. It’s so narrow it feels as if we are on a river, with mangroves on either side. The current flowing through the strip can be so strong, says Aran, that “if you’re in the water and stretch out your arms, you’ll be flying like Superman”. Imagine moving as fast as a fish.
We make an attempt to snorkel in the blue water mangroves, but the tides are against us, and the boat has to turn back before it runs aground. Quietly, I’m relieved. Observing four-metre-long manta rays at a safe distance or harmless wobbegong sharks is OK by me, but I have no desire to get acquainted with a more vicious type of shark or, for that matter, a saltwater crocodile (although that is rare).
On our way through the channel we pass a timeless scene – a small child with her mother cooking over a fire. I can hear someone chopping down a tree in the forest that springs from this seemingly inhospitable limestone rock. I’m reminded of the view flying here – tiny islets and larger, jungle-topped land masses, rising from the gleaming sea like giant lizards. No signs of human habitation. Is Raja Ampat truly “the last paradise on earth”, as the tourist slogan says? Or have we just seen Eve, and heard Adam, both hard at work? Is paradise over?
Despite appearances, some of the Raja Ampat isles are very much inhabited. A showcase of island hospitality greets us one afternoon at Sawinggrai Village on Gam Island, where joyous and very well behaved children play music, sing and dance to welcome us. Playing games afterwards, the children seem totally blasé about the sea creatures all around them in the limpid water – that is, until a large squid swims into view and the excitement level amps up. Just as we are leaving, a rainbow divides the sky and a school of silvery flying fish leaps from the water, like a neon sign flashing on and off.
One vibrantly sunny afternoon after a similar welcome on Arborek Island, we enjoy the treat of a local-style lunch. Taro, cassava and fish wrapped in banana leaves are cooked on coals buried under sand. It seems that almost all of the island’s children watch closely as the pit is uncovered and the food unwrapped. We eat our feast serenaded by musicians.
While visitor numbers to Raja Ampat sit at around 20,000 a year, tourism is growing fast. The introduction of marine protected areas has put a halt on the capture of endangered species, which bring more dollars to the area while alive and swimming than when sold for food. The financial benefit is increasingly apparent in these village communities. I’m chuffed to think that the most spectacular sight of my time here – the beautiful rays circling Manta Sandy’s cleaning station – has a direct link to the less unusual, but no less cheering sight of happy, healthy children and their families singing and playing.
Get There
AirAsia flies to Denpasar in Bali with a stop in Kuala Lumpur from about US$508 return. Domestic flights with Garuda Indonesia to Sorong, with a stopover on the way, cost about AU$335 return. At the dock in Sorong, buy a US$9 ticket for the two-hour ferry to Waisai (the capital of Raja Ampat) on Waigeo Island. Your accommodation can usually arrange a boat transfer from there. airasia.com garuda-indonesia.com
Tour There
Liveaboards are the traditional way to tour. These range from local enterprises, such as the KLM Insos Raja Ampat (from US$704 for a seven-day trip) to extremely luxurious options such as the yacht Lamima (from US$11,600 for seven nights). stayrajaampat.com lamima.com
Jump in a 4WD and roll into the jungles of a little-explored South American nation.
When it comes to pointing out countries on a map, Guyana is one that would likely have the fingers of even the most well-travelled of explorers hovering in midair. The compact nation sits on South America’s North Atlantic coast, wedged between Venezuela, Brazil and the equally obscure Suriname. And it’s an ecotourism gem, with few visitors to spoil the adventure.
In 14 days, many of them spent behind the wheel of a 4WD, you can explore this country’s rugged interior, a land of jungles and savannas. Start in the capital of Georgetown, where a Caribbean vibe beats against the crumbling British and Dutch colonial architecture before, quite literally, taking off. At 228 metres, Kaieteur Falls is the world’s largest single-drop waterfall – it’s five times taller than Niagara – and it’s best seen on the inbound charter flight. Once you’ve arrived, settle in to enjoy the outstanding microclimate of golden frogs, tank bromeliads and the stunning cock-of-the-rock, a tangerine-plumed bird with a head resembling a slice of citrus fruit.
The next day it’s time to take to the road. Along the way you’ll visit the Iwokrama rainforest (one of four remaining untouched forests in the world), following its suspended walkways through the canopy to spot rare birds and monkeys, hike at dawn to the tops of mountains, experience life in an Amerindian community, glide along a river looking for giant river otters and the biggest lily pads in the world, and safari across the grasslands on the hunt for giant anteaters.
Throughout the journey, your accommodation, meals and tours will all be organised in advance, so all you need do is follow the map and take in every aspect of South America’s best-kept secret.
The 14-day self-drive Guyana Nature Experience tour with Wilderness Explorers costs about AU$7550 a person, based on two people sharing a vehicle. wilderness-explorers.com
Nepal’s Chitwan National Park is home to some of the world’s rarest creatures. Tate Zandstra follows their footsteps into the Nepalese jungle.
Photography by Tate Zandstra
“Here are the pug marks of the tiger,” whispers Tulosi. The veteran guide is crouched on the trail, with soft morning sunlight burning off the fog and elephant grass towering over him. The prints are the width of my hand. “He was here this morning, maybe an hour ago.” Standing, Tulosi begins following the tracks. “This is a big male – 200, maybe 230 kilos,” he says, still whispering. In the stillness of morning, I feel a thrill – a wild tiger recently walked where I now stand.
“How far away is he now?” I ask.
“Forty or 50 metres,” Tulosi replies. “He is probably sleeping in those small trees because it is cool.” We stand and observe the spot. Finally, I ask what would happen if we followed the tiger into the trees. Tulosi glances at Sagar, his junior guide, and smiles. “I think the tiger would run away,” he says, “but we would never hear him.”
I am in Chitwan National Park, in the swampy Nepali lowlands known as the Terai. Thanks to ecotourism and law enforcement combating poaching, the national parks of Nepal, Chitwan and Bardia have recently won acclaim for the increasing populations of both tigers and rhinos. Even so, such is the elusiveness of these big cats that, until this moment, I dared not hope for so much as a paw print. As it happens, we track three more tigers during our journey, including a female with two cubs.
Late in the day, Tulosi halts. He’s spied a post hole-sized track flooding with groundwater. “Five minutes ago there was a big rhino here,” he announces, scanning the dense jungle. The rhinoceros, considered the most dangerous animal in the Terai, is the other star attraction here. Tulosi has lost two uncles to these two-tonne beasts. As dusk approaches, the animals are waking up.
We listen. But for cicadas keening, there’s silence. Something in the air changes; I hear wood splintering and have the overwhelming sense that an immense animal is tearing through the forest. Trees shake and monkeys screech. I hear mud sucking at giant feet as the crashing recedes.
“Come!” Sagar commands, darting down a game trail. I catch up to him crouching under cover on a berm overlooking the riverbank. The rhino emerges below us, 20 metres away. It snorts, holding its head high, looking for enemies in the jungle gloom.
Tulosi appears beside me, beckoning as he slides down the berm. Suddenly, he turns. “Run! Run!” he yells, and claws back up the steep, sandy trail. I glimpse the rhino, charging straight at us, covering ground at a terrifying pace. Then I am beside Sagar, who beats the ground with his walking stick.
The rhino stops 10 metres away, gouges furrows in the ground, then turns and sprints for the river. Tulosi is right behind him. The fear of moments ago forgotten in the chase, we run recklessly, following the huge creature. It smashes into the water, scattering crocodiles in the shallows.
The rhino reaches the far bank and turns in the orange glow of sunset, looking indignant yet majestic. “That was very scary!” Tulosi says, laughing. “How much danger were we in?” I ask. “Oh,” shrugs Tulosi, “very dangerous, he could have killed us.” Then he turns casually and walks toward town.
Get There
AirAsia flies from Sydney to Kathmandu in Nepal from US$745 return. Fly on to Bharatpur Airport with Buddha Air from US$210 return. airasia.com buddhaair.com
Tour There
Sauraha is the closest town to the park and the launch point for safaris. Stay at Hotel Jungle Vista and the owners, brothers Ram and Ramesh Silwal, can arrange a tour with guide Tulosi Raot. Two-night, one-day safaris start from AU$200. hoteljunglevista.com
Take a two-wheeled journey to discover Rwanda’s remotest regions and visit the country’s famous mountain gorillas.
Contemplating trekking into the wilds of Rwanda to spy the country’s famous mountain gorillas? There’s a way to have an even better experience in this fascinating nation. UK-based company the Slow Cyclist offers an epic eight-day adventure. Spend two nights acclimatising to altitude and conditions in Kigali before embarking on the first of four strenuous – Rwanda didn’t earn its nickname, the Land of a Thousand Hills, for nothing – but ultimately fulfilling days pedalling from the capital to Rubavu on the border of Congo. At times you’ll ride on bitumen roads, while elsewhere the trail will be red dirt, but if it all becomes a bit much you can always opt to jump in the support vehicle. The best part is this tour travels through regions of remote Rwanda few travellers ever experience, rolling past tea estates, sprawling lakes and smoking volcanoes.
The group size is small – just 12 (or up to 20 on a charity ride) – and the regular tour host is Michael Newhouse, a Brit who’s lived in East Africa since 2012. On each ride there’s also a number of local cyclists, guides and drivers whose knowledge of the culture is second to none. This is part of the ethos of the Slow Cyclist: to share places company founder Oli Broom loves with proper travellers. Broom was a chartered surveyor when, in 2009, he chucked in his job to cycle from London to Brisbane to watch the Ashes – it took him 412 days. After that adventure, he worked in Kigali for two years before moving back to London to establish the Slow Cyclist.
The zenith of this experience comes mid-tour. It’s billed as a rest day, but you won’t be putting up your feet. Starting early, you’ll trek through thick vegetation and along steep trails into Volcanoes National Park in the hope of finding one of the park’s 10 families of habituated gorillas. Locating them can take anywhere from an hour to eight, but when they come into view, all that hard work is rewarded. This is a rare opportunity; it’s estimated there are only about 880 mountain gorillas living in the wild and only eight park passes are issued per group in any one day. You’ll sit quietly for an hour and observe these incredible primates, thought to have split from their common ancestor to humans and chimps about nine million years ago, before heading back to camp.
The last day is a rewarding 90 kilometres back in the saddle, finishing at Lake Kivu, one of the Great Lakes. You’ll ascend 1390 metres along the base of a chain of volcanoes before tackling the final 30-kilometre downhill run that ends on the shores of the lake for a refreshing, celebratory dip.
The Slow Cyclist has four scheduled Rwanda tours during 2017 – two small group tours and two charity challenges, which involve riders donating an extra amount of money to a chosen cause. The group tours cost about US$2643, including airport transfers, bike and gear hire, guides, accommodation and most meals. Gorilla trekking costs an extra US$881. theslowcyclist.co.uk
Slip, slide and dive through the mountainous French island of Corsica.
When you think about adventure, chances are Corsica isn’t a natural segue. The Mediterranean island is best known as the birthplace of Napoleon, but beyond its picturesque bays and the capital of Ajaccio is a rugged landscape created by a single chain of granite peaks. Most travellers looking for an adventure would head straight for the GR20, one of the continent’s most popular and toughest hiking trails. Take it on and you’d be putting one foot in front of the other for 15 days to cover its 180-kilometre length and 10,000 metres of height variation.
Thankfully you can see the incredible highs and lows of the island’s interiors in a much easier way. Agnès and Pascal, both mountaineers and guides, set up Altipiani in the Corsican mountains and now run multiday canyoning tours. For between three and five hours each day you’ll explore the peaks and valleys from the water. There’ll be abseiling, tobogganing, zip-lining and plunging from the tops of cliffs into the emerald pools below at four different sites. You don’t need any specific experience; just the ability to swim, a head for heights and a hankering to discover Corsica in a completely different way.
The seven-day Altipiani canyoning trip starts at about US$745 for the camping option. You can also choose to stay in small hotels or B&Bs (about US$948). Prices include accommodation, meals, guides, equipment and transport from Corte. altipiani-corse.com
Rote isn’t exactly a secret for surfers, who make up most of the tourists on the island. Seasoned surfers will have heard of T-land (Besialu Reef), the more popular break on the island with three sections that can range from a smaller wave to one that tops two metres high.
The island is small, but landmass doesn’t affect its gnarly swells – after all, there’s a reason surfing champions have been known to live on the island. The stunning beaches and local culture add to the charm. Given its popularity with those looking to shred the swells, there are plenty of places to stay from hostels to resorts. The Malole Surf House is a simple, eco-friendly surf lodge located in popular Nemberala Beach, overlooking T-land.
The staff members can tell you all about the island’s best surf spots, and also run a fleet of boats that can take you there.
Top-notch surfing on a Pacific island with few other people sharing the waves. That’s what you get when you pack your bags and head for the Samoan island of Savai’i. It may be one of the largest islands in Samoa, but its shred is still somewhat free of line-ups. With a glistening aquamarine ocean and a coastline full of excellent spots to grab a board, you’ll struggle to decide where to start.
Our hot tip, though, is a trip to Aganoa Lodge. Situated within an hour’s drive of multiple surf spots, Barneys will be able to hang left in the lodge’s exclusive reef-sheltered beach, while more experienced surfers will be guided to the island’s hottest breaks, with a mixture of rights and lefts up to four metres.
Dive into the depths of this virtually unknown archipelago just off the south coast of Myanmar and discover an underwater world – whale sharks, manta rays, turtles, rainbows of coral, an abundance of other marine life – that could give the Little Mermaid a run for her money.
Liveaboard boats are a popular way to experience the group of 800 islands, which are covered in dense jungle growth and surrounded by azure waters. From the small fish of High Rock, the tunnels of Stewart Island, nurse sharks of Shark Cave, and the famous site of Western Rocky, plus so much more, an eight-day trip with the Smiling Seahorse will offer you the opportunity to discover the undiscovered.
The unsuspecting island of Niue may not be the most well-known dot of land in the South Pacific, but for diving enthusiasts this is a watery playground not to be missed. Visibility is unrivalled – almost as far as a hundred metres in certain areas around the island – and these are considered some of the best conditions in the world.
The top diving spots to check out on Niue are the Limu Pools, the Matapa Chasm and the Dome, a favourite among locals and tourists alike. A sloping wall, two gullies and a large open cave form the popular site, and it’s a great location for first-timers or nervous divers to gain experience. A vibrant array of anemones, moray eels and flatworms reside in these waters, and there are plenty of nooks and crannies to get in and explore if you’re game.
A paranormal, other-worldly phenomenon or nothing more than a clever hoax? See for yourself at the Naga Fireball Festival, held in the Nong Khai province of Thailand, along the Mekong River.
The two-day festival takes place in October at the end of Buddhist Lent, when the intensity of the fireballs is said to be at its peak. Check out the long-boat racing, food fair and a light and sound presentation. The glowing fireballs appear at night and rise from the depths of the Mekong River into the air for hundreds of metres before suddenly disappearing. Many believe the fireballs come from Naga, a fabled serpent that lives in the water and shoots the orbs into the air to welcome Buddha back to earth after Lent. Skeptics say it’s nothing more than flammable phosphine gas rising from the river and spontaneously combusting. You be the judge.
PAPUA NEW GUINEA Kenu and Kundu Festival
Held annually in Alotau, the Kenu and Kundu Festival celebrates the society and traditional culture of the locals. The festival binds together the history of these people with their modern existence. One of the main highlights of the festival is the traditional war canoe races. Other events include dances, drum performances, crafts and food.
This three-day cultural celebration shares the rich history of the Papua New Guinean people from this province. Visit and you’ll have the opportunity to engage with locals and immerse yourself in a vibrant and colourful display of history.
DJs, drinks and food surrounded by translucent waters? What more could you ask of an epic island party? Cloud 9 sits atop Ro Ro Reef within the Mamanuca Islands, just a boat ride away from Port Denarau. Don’t be fooled, this is no secluded hideaway, and the party’s popularity as grown over the past few years, but it’s too cool not to include. This floating bar hosts regular DJ sets and events, and is even open to private parties.
Between downing delicious cocktails and staring out to the horizon while lounging on a day bed, you can dive into the clear waters for a snorkel, jump on a jet ski, or dig into some delicious Italian wood-fire pizzas.
Get ready for one of Asia’s biggest parties. It’s The Ship sets sail on a round trip from Singapore to Phuket and back again for a three-night festival at sea. Have access to all the ship’s amenities including its 12 bars, seven eateries, an arcade, theatre, pools and plenty of parties in between. Past acts have included Sander van Doon, Big Shaq, Darude, Paul Van Dyk and Hot Dub Time Machine.
With so much to fit in, you’ll not want to head to bed (or have a memory blank).
Just because Deer Cave was recently stripped of its ‘world’s largest cave’ title (that honour now goes to Hang Son Doon in Vietnam), it doesn’t mean you should automatically cross it off your must-see list. Located in Gunung Mulu National Park in Sarawak, it remains an incredible natural wonder. At more than two kilometres in length and up to 122 metres in height, the sheer enormity of it is impressive. Not surprisingly, its name, Deer Cave (Gua Rusa in Malaysian), comes from the native deer that would enter the cave for shelter and to lick the salt-bearing rocks.
A trip to the cave requires a three-kilometre ramble along a plank boardwalk that weaves through peat swamp, by limestone outcrops and past a sacred Penan tribe burial cave. Highlights inside include the Garden of Eden, a lush patch of thick vegetation that thrives thanks to a light-filled hole in the cave roof, and an uncanny side-on profile of Abraham Lincoln that’s carved into one of the cave’s skylights. Bring a torch and you can even stay for the mass bat exodus, when more than three million flying mammals leave the cave in search of food.
VANUATU Blue Cave
Along the northwest limestone coast of Vanuatu’s Tanna Island is the brilliant Blue Cave. A short boat ride will take you to the cave’s small, unsuspecting entry. Once inside you’ll discover the sun’s iridescent glow streaming through a hole in the roof, making the water glow a vibrant turquoise and illuminating the water and rock formations below. It’s all pretty special. If you’re a beginner swimmer, don’t worry – you will be able to get in providing you are able to put your head underwater. If you’re still nervous about having to go under the water, visit during low tide to give yourself the best chance of experiencing the cave.
Once you’ve finished exploring the inside, be sure to head to the cliff platforms outside and jump into the crystalline ocean waters to soak up even more of Vanuatu’s natural beauty.
Prepare to be impressed by Tad Yuang, a towering 40-metre waterfall that spills out of the Laos jungle in spectacular fashion. More specifically, it’s located on the Bolaven Plateau, which is slowly becoming more accessible to travellers. Local volunteers have worked tirelessly to create safer viewing platforms, and other amenities and stalls continue to pop up nearby.
A rather steep, slippery path winds its way down to the bottom of the falls, but it’s worth manoeuvring so you can cool off in the pool below and bask in the immense power of the surging twin torrents. There’s even a designated picnic area at the top, and quite a few walking tracks that lead deeper into the surrounding rainforest. Our tip? Get there super early or stick around until dusk when the crowds have dispersed, and you’re more likely to have the falls all to yourself.
SAMOA Togitogiga
When in Samoa, do as the great Samoan warriors of the past used to do and bathe in the crystal clear waters of the Togitogiga Waterfall. While the name might be difficult to say getting there isn’t, and the waterfall is conveniently situated just a few kilometres from Samoa’s first national park, O Le Pupu-Pue.
Overgrown tropical gardens, offering sweet relief from sun, encroach on the deep swimming holes that are fed by multiple cascading falls. The best time to visit is during the wet season, from November to April, when the falls are at capacity and the pools are primed for cannonballs into the blissfully cool waters below. Thanks to a recreation area, changing rooms and toilets, Togitogiga has been known to get busy, but if you can handle a few extra people splashing nearby, there’s really no better place to be on a hot Samoan day.
GROSS OUT: THAILAND VS TAHITI
THAILAND Elephant dung coffee
It’s no secret coffee is one of the world’s most widely consumed beverages. And considering it seems that every second person nowadays is trying to whip up an iconic and delicious brew (blue algae coffee, anyone?), it’s no surprise some strange concoctions have popped up.
In Thailand, the current craze is elephant dung coffee. A herd of 20 elephants in northern Thailand is responsible for this taste sensation. Along with their normal diet of fruits, veggies and plants, these ellies also consume large quantities of coffee beans. They marinate in the stomachs of these huge creatures before being excreted the next day. The downside, other than knowing your coffee has passed through the bowels of an elephant, is that it’s actually one of the most expensive cups of joe in the whole world.
TAHITI Fafaru
If you’re wanting to try some of the local cuisine in Tahiti, look no further. Fafaru is a dish ingrained in Polynesian culture, and is simply fish or shrimp that’s been marinated in fermented seawater. Sounds tasty, right?
Crushed prawns placed clean seawater then left to decompose. Once that’s done the water is strained ready to use as a marinade for fish, usually tuna. The longer it’s left, the stronger the flavour. If you can somehow manage to get past the smell, the fish is said to be deliciously tender. It’s usually served with another Polynesian delicacy known as miti hue, or fermented coconut pulp, creating a well-balanced meal that’s both sweet and salty. We suggest those with weak stomachs might want to steer well clear.
Away from the chaos of the Philippines’ main dive spots in Oslob are the protected reefs of Tubbataha. With about a hundred hectares of stunning underwater sanctuary to explore, it’s the perfect spot to dive beneath the ocean’s surface and experience the majestic marine world that lies below.
Named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1992, the sanctuary’s diversity of the marine life is astounding. Perhaps the most incredible creatures you’ll come across are the whale sharks, one of the largest fish species in the ocean. Given their exclusive diet of plankton, these spotted behemoths pose no risk to humans and are more than happy to share their watery home with us. Swimming side by side with these docile critters is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Hanging out in the depths of the warm Tahitian waters are some of the most magnificent sea creatures: mighty humpback whales. These calm beasts can reach up to 16 metres in length and weigh almost 30 metric tons.
Not unlike the whale sharks of the Philippines, the humpbacks survive on a diet of krill and other small fish and are unlikely to harm humans. Their inherently curious nature means it’s not unusual for them to come close to investigate any loitering whale watching boats. Peak season for whale watching is anywhere from June through to October. When out on the water you will be guided by professionally trained divers and swimmers who will ensure that both you and the whales are safe during your trip.
Climb aboard this magnificent ship and sail off into Raja Ampat’s sunset. The 26-metre eco-friendly yacht, named Sequoia after the ancient tree, is a contemporary take on traditional wooden yacht. Custom-made amenities and features welcome guests to this state-of-the-art vessel, with its three spacious bedrooms, each with a private bathroom, a sky deck for movies under the stars, and a gourmet kitchen.
But life isn’t all about what’s on deck. On this private charter, you’ll be able to snorkel, paddle board, tube, kayak, water ski and more.
With eight days aboard the MV Taka, you’ll see more of the Solomon Islands than you ever thought possible. Depart from Honiara and spend the next week surrounded by more culture and history than you could ever imagine. With cultural immersion a key part of your journey, you’ll interact with locals of all ages and backgrounds during village and school visits.
While onboard there’s the opportunity to take a step back in time to the Pacific front of World War II, and explore shipwrecks and other significant sites. It’s not all about education though – there’s plenty of time for relaxation, snorkelling and paddle boarding, among other activities. What’s more, when not tied up with Solomon Island Discovery Cruises’ passengers, the ship is available for private hire. Count us in.
Built from the ground up by its owners, Cerevisia Craft Brewhouse is a testament to hard work and a love of tasty beer. The desire to spread the delicious beverage to the locals spawned the idea, and now the aromatic bevvies are finished with enticing flavours that make locals and travellers alike say, “Maybe just one more then.”
The success of the brewery spawned two tap rooms and more than 20 restaurants that feature Cerevisia beer on their drinks menu. One of the two taprooms, Botanico Wine and Beer Garden, has cemented its place in the community offering live music, exceptional food and trivia nights, and the chance to knock the top off a couple of froffies.
Rarotonga Brewery in the Cook Islands is locally owned and adored. The goal of this brewery is to create a consistently delicious beer that can be appreciated by locals and visitors alike. And believe us: there’s nothing quite as refreshing on balmy, tropical nights as a crisp, cold lager. You’ll find this tasty drop in restaurants and establishments across the Cook Islands, so it’s never too hard to get your hands on one while you’re over there.
Like many of its compatriots, Rarotonga Brewery aims to be as environmentally minded as possible, using kegs and flagons to avoid products ending up in landfill. If you find yourself on Rarotonga, stop by the brewery and have a look for yourself.
It’s the largest marine protected area in Malaysia and below its glistening turquoise surface, Tun Mustapha Park is home to coral reefs, mangroves, dugongs, sea turtles, sharks and more than 360 species of fish. It took almost 13 years to protect this colourful undersea world, but now, using a mixed approach to satisfy marine conservation, local communities and fishing industries, the aim is to boost biodiversity over the coming decade.
Covering more than a million hectares, the park encompasses more than 50 islands across the Kudat, Pita and Kota Marudu districts, from where travelers can swim, snorkel and dive to get up close and personal with the inhabitants of the deep.
NEW CALEDONIA Natural Park of the Coral Sea
Established to protect and ensure the future of New Caledonia’s exceptional aquatic ecosystem, the Natural Park of the Coral Sea is the world’s largest marine park. Covering an astounding 1.3 million square kilometres, the park also encompasses the world’s largest lagoon and second longest barrier reef, and acts as a sanctuary for turtles, whales, sharks, giant clams, sea birds, an array of fish species and the world’s third largest herd of dugongs. The highest level of protection for the world’s last unspoiled reefs – Chesterfield, Bellona, Entrecasteaux, Pétrie and Astrolabe – safeguards 28,000 square kilometres of pristine reef.
Some small eco-tourism groups are able to gain permits to access these reefs. This watery wonderland is best explored at sea level, so to truly get an idea of the park’s rich diversity, make sure you get wet.
BEER BUST: LAOS VS SOLOMON ISLANDS
LAOS Beerlao
Bintang isn’t the only beer in town when it comes to Southeast Asia’s amber goodness. Beerlao, produced at a local brewery since 1973, is a popular thirst quencer for visitors to the region.
This beer is created using locally sourced ingredients like jasmine rice, with imported malt, hops and yeast from France, Belgium and Germany. It’s crafted by Lao Brewery, a company that prides itself on being culturally and environmentally minded with sustainability and social responsibility at the top of its priority list. So when you knock back a cold Beerlao, you can do so virtually guilt free. Well, that’s what we’re telling ourselves, anyway.
When it comes to this island nation’s most popular drop, there’s no beating Solbrew. The Honiara brewery was established in 1993 and designed the silver and gold cans and green bottles to pay homage to the Solomons’ history and spirit. There’s nothing more refreshing in the island heat and never looks out of place in the hands of anyone across the South Pacific. Bottoms up.
Embedded into the lush jungle hillside of Luang Prabang, Rosewood’s Hilltop Tents offer modest luxury. Designed to incorporate both the Laos local culture and the strong French colonial influence through the architecture and use of textures, colours and fabrics, the six 75-square-metre tents bring indulgence and culture together in a stunning display.
Each tent has its own king-size bed, bathtub and plush day bed, plus a private deck where you can sit back, relax and listen to the sounds of the jungle. Take your relaxation one step further with a visit to the spa and enjoy one of the traditional Lao therapies, or take a dip in the lavish pool while watching the natural waterfall cascade right next to you.
A passion to create a luxurious yet environmentally sustainable option for
travellers has resulted in Ikurangi Eco Retreat, the first purpose-built eco
accommodation in the Cook Islands. Overlooking the dramatic mountains
of Rarotonga, four safari tents combine luxe finishes with sustainably sourced materials to create one idyllic and eco-friendly package.
Composting toilets, biodegradable toiletries and free bicycles are all part of the Ikurangi way. Creature comforts aren’t sacrificed – they’re simply presented in a stylish, unpretentious way. Each tent includes a private outdoor shower, large king-size bed, fully screened windows, natural soap and lotion, and electricity points for charging all your gadgets. From here, you can explore the serene natural beauty of Rarotonga, and enjoy the island’s adrenaline-inducing adventures, nature, food, culture and pampering. You’ll be diving into your natural surrounds in no time.
On the eastern outskirts of the Gulf of Thailand, Koh Kood is a so-far unspoiled nirvana. The island has it all for visitors wanting a fully immersive experience: beaches, jungles, waterfalls and luxury resorts. As the fourth largest island in Thailand, with a population of about 2,000, you’ll find yourself fully immersed in the culture and lifestyle from the moment you step foot on the beach.
The best way to explore the sandy shores – the entire western edge of the island is an expanse of pristine beaches – is on a boat. The eastern side of the island is largely undeveloped and, in some areas, an inaccessible mass of jungle. Spend your days hiking, swimming, relaxing and basking in the absolute peace and tranquillity on this almost undiscovered paradise.
TUVALA Tuvalu
Located halfway between Australia and Hawaii, Tuvalu is a tiny tropical speck in the Pacific. Comprised of just nine islands – six are actually deemed coral atolls – and with a population of just 11,000 people, it’s one of the world’s smallest countries. Devoid of tour guides, cruise ships and organised activities, it’s definitely no tourist mecca like its neighbours Fiji and Vanuatu, but that’s where its charm lies.
You’ll have palm tree-fringed beaches to yourself and reefs bursting with colour and sea life to explore at your leisure. The friendly locals are more than willing to share their knowledge and cultural traditions in the form of dance, basket weaving and woodcarving. But don’t delay your trip to Tuvalu – with rising sea levels threatening to completely engulf the low-lying nation, there’s no telling when climate change will wipe this isolated South Pacific paradise off the map.
SAIL UP THE RIVER: THAILAND AND LAOS VS PAPUA NEW GUINEA
Step aboard the Sepik Spirit for a voyage into the depths of Papua New Guinea’s waterways. This purpose-built craft, which has been designed to glide through rivers and tributaries with ease, follows a route that includes the Karawari, Sepik and Krosmeri rivers.
The villages that line these riverbanks are rarely visited by foreigners, and when the Sepik Spirit docks at different settlements, tourists are showered with warm welcomes and invitations to visit spirit houses, learn about rituals or purchase tribal art. Photo opportunities abound around every bend, so have your camera at the ready to capture the dense forests lining the Karawari River or the sun setting over the wide expanse of the Blackwater Lakes.
Journey down the famed Mekong River on a vessel unlike any other. Gypsy is a lavishly appointed 41-metre, two-cabin rig that will transport you past charming villages in total comfort. Travel from Luang Prabang through to Thailand’s Golden Triangle on a four-night trip, or do the reverse and spend two nights travelling from Thailand to Laos.
This ultra-exclusive private cruise is tailored to accommodate just four passengers, which means your every wish and desire is met. Wood and thatched features give the boat a traditional feel, but modern amenities and an on-board chef whipping up first-class fare means there’s no chance of mistaking this boat for just another typical river cruiser. If there’s a better way to explore the Mekong, we’d like to hear about it.
Deep in the Anambas archipelago is Bawah Reserve. A series of six secluded private islands, this resort, with its 35 luxury suites boasting panoramic views of the ocean, is one for the ages.
Accommodation options range from overwater bungalows to garden and deluxe beach suites, so you’ll be spoiled for choice. If you worry about being bored spending days lying on the beach, think again. You’ll have access to the Aura Spa and Wellness Centre, plus there’s hiking, snorkelling, stand-up paddle boarding and stargazing, plus the beach cinema and swimming pools, to enjoy. There’s even a chance to sail off into the sunset on an island cruise.
The French Polynesian island of Tetiaroa, also known as Brando Island, was once described by its namesake as, “beautiful beyond my capacity to describe”. Who are we to argue with Marlon Brando?
The Brando is next-level luxury – think transfers on a private plane, 35 exclusive villas, award-winning cuisine and white-sand beaches frequented by sea turtles, manta rays and exotic birds. While it may seem tempting to while the lazy days away by the pool, moving only when required to reach for a cocktail or apply another layer of sunscreen, activities at The Brando are endless. Test out your snorkelling skills, splash out on a kayak, learn how to scuba dive or pedal off on a bike. But with a mission to foster enriching travel experiences, support Polynesian culture and traditions, and protect and sustain the island’s precious natural environment, you can relax in peace knowing The Brando is doing its bit to best preserve this fragile piece of the South Pacific.
Your fitness will be tested on this Cebu canyoning expedition as you wander along a cliff’s edge and hike down to expansive caverns for an adrenaline-pumping experience. Starting in Kanlaob River you’ll walk, jump, swim, climb and abseil your way toward Kawasan Falls, passing ravines, rocky chasms and tropical jungles. While the stunning surrounding scenery may appear peaceful this experience is anything but, although it’ll all be worth it once you arrive at the stunning blue waters of Kawasan Falls.
So strap on the life vest and helmet and try not to overthink things as you jump right into anadventure that will push you to your limits.
This challenging trek – a full-day adventure to Millennium Cave – will test you both physically and mentally. The hike to the cave weaves along jungle paths then there’s the opportunity to clamber over rocks and cliffs before canyoning into waters at the base of the cave.
It may be exhausting, but the feeling of accomplishment will far outweigh any muscle aches. Thankfully, though, between the rushing waterfalls, the flowing river and the monstrous size of the cave, the awesome scenery will have you completely forgetting just how tough you might find the trip.
Freshwater fishing in Thailand has been a way of life for centuries, and if you journey to Phang Nga you can try your hand at catching a monster fish for yourself. With an exotic range of creatures lurking in these waters, you can never be sure just what will be at the end of your line. Several of the species below the surface weigh more than 50 kilograms, so be sure you’ve got your muscles ready.
Exotic Fishing Thailand offers half- and full-day fishing packages, so you can tailor the activity to suit yourself. Be sure you bring a camera because you’ll want evidence of these beasts to show people back home – this is catch-and-release fishing only.
Traditional fishing practices are alive and well in this small French territory. It’s not just a way to feed the family, either – it’s also considered a social event that can bring the whole community together.
Traditional fishing tours are available in Noumea, depending on tides and weather conditions. On-foot fishing is a great option for the kids, and might even nab you some tasty clams. If the wind isn’t too strong, try your hand at parachute net fishing, a true art. You’ll also learn how to spot or attract fish. Who knows? You may even master throwing the net so it lands in a perfect circle in the water. Guess that’s dinner sorted.
If you’ve always dreamed of swinging through the trees, spending the night high up in the forest canopy and making friends with monkeys, this is your chance to turn those Tarzan fantasies into a reality.
The Gibbon Experience in Nam Kan National Park connects some of the world’s highest treehouses via a maze of ziplines. Once settled in your treetop retreat, you might even get the chance to meet with the local gibbon families. It’s a pretty basic set-up, but when you’re more than 30 metres above the forest floor and waking up to the roaring sounds of the jungle, you’ll forget about that. Besides, it wouldn’t be the complete Tarzan experience if you had a butler on call, now would it?
Just 10 kilometres out of Vanuatu’s capital of Port Vila is La Maison du Banian. Constructed in the branches of a banyan tree, this simple, thatched treehouse blends beautifully into its surroundings, so you’ll feel connected with the natural world.
And even though it’s environmentally friendly, you don’t have to go without creature comforts. Solar power and kerosene lamps keep the lights on, and an open bamboo bathroom is located nearby. A fireplace provides warmth on chilly nights, and a vegetable and fruit garden means you won’t go hungry. This accommodation will see you immersing yourself in nature, recharging and experiencing simplicity at its finest.
Finding unspoiled beaches is becoming harder as more tourists flock to all corners of the globe. That’s not to say uncrowded stretches of coast are impossible to find. Take Kapas Island as an example. This tiny speck in the ocean, just two kilometres in length, can be found just 15 minutes from Marang, off the east coast of Malaysia. The cerulean waters are just begging for a day of paddling in a hired kayak, or there are more than enough shady spots to hang your hammock and settle in with a good book. What makes Kapas Island even better, though, is its diversity.
Sure, we love a solid relaxation sesh, but we dig the option to dive and snorkel through reefs or trek through jungles even more, and that’s all possible here. There are no five-star resorts, bustling restaurants, internet connection or even ATMs, but that’s even more reason to love it. We’re all about minimalism when the right location calls for it, and this is one island we’d happily get shipwrecked on.
VANUATU Port Olry
To classify as one of the best hidden beaches in the South Pacific, there’s a few things most visitors would expect to see. Glistening white beaches with barely a footprint to be seen? Absolutely. Azure waters, clear enough to see to the bottom? That’s a given. Maybe a rustic beach shack – walking distance to the beach, of course – serving seafood fresh from the ocean? Sure, you gotta eat. That just about sums about Port Olry, a secret oasis on the island of Espiritu Santo.
It has somehow managed to stay hidden from the hordes of tourists and cruise-shippers who frequent Vanuatu in search of their own slice of tropical paradise, and has instead adopted an infectious laid-back charm that is irresistible. The pristine natural landscape, complete with a thriving sea turtle population, doesn’t hurt either. Hurry, because the wonders of Port Olry won’t stay confidential for long.
Via ferrata, for the uninitiated, means iron road in Italian, and is used to describe a mountain route equipped with rungs, rails, fixed ladders and cables. At 3,776 metres above sea level, Low’s Peak Circuit and Walk the Torq trails on Mount Kinabalu in Sabah are, respectively, Asia’s highest and first via ferrata.
No prior climbing experience is needed to tackle the mountain when you head off with Mountain Torq – a skilled guide leads the way along the well-equipped routes. The climb takes more than four hours to complete, however, so a decent level of fitness is required, but there are plenty of opportunities along the way to rest and admire the vista. When you’re traversing swinging planks and balancing on tightrope walks, the adrenaline kicks in and you won’t even notice those burning muscles.
It may be a relative newcomer on the scene, but Tonga is slowly and steadily garnering attention from curious climbers. The majority of the climbing takes place on the untouched limestone cliffs of the King’s estate at Fangatave Beach, on the northeastern side of the island of ‘Eua.
You’ll need to register beforehand to gain access to the estate and climbing areas, and bring all your own gear, but once that’s sorted 25 pitches await, ranging from grade 17 to 24. To protect the pristine landscape and guarantee the future of climbing tourism, volunteers from Kaka Maka Group are working with Tongan locals to ensure the burgeoning outdoor venture is developed responsibly and sustainable. With 50 more routes in development, our advice is to book those flights to Tonga asap and get in before the crowds start assembling.
With wifi now a given in most destinations, and access to power and running water non-negotiable, it’s becoming harder to disconnect from the world.
You’ll note we said hard – it's not impossible. We’ve travelled to some of the most remote corners of the globe – from the Amazon to the Arctic – to find locations, tours and lodgings that still qualify as off-grid. While some definitely boast more creature comforts than others, they all have few things in common: they’re super isolated, cut off from civilisation and there’s absolutely no chance of posting an Insta update. Buckle up. Your expedition into the wild starts now.
If you’ve hiked through Corsica’s Ospedale Forest you may have spotted an odd sight on the cliffs. Suspended on the side of the ridge are three cocoon-like structures and a giant snow globe. Or at least that’s what it looks like from a distance. Get closer and you’ll discover those hanging bubbles and translucent dome are designed to house humans. This is Cocoon Village. No electricity and no running water means these unique accommodations aren’t considered extravagant, although a solar shower and lights are appreciated additions. Although who needs light when you’ve got the moon and stars to illuminate your stay?
The cocoons are accessed by navigating a swinging wooden plank, and they dangle more than 10 metres above the forest floor, so this isn’t a great option if you suffer from acrophobia. Once you make it inside, a basic yet comfortable set-up awaits. There’s a double bed, linen and towels, which is all you need really, considering you’ll likely spend most of your time gawking at the view of the Gulf of Porto-Vecchio and Sardinia in the distance. When you’re done with the vistas, hike the trails through lush Ospedale. Or you can simply embrace your aerial sanctuary and settle in on your private terrace.
It’s the ideal spot to knock back a bottle of Corsican wine and bask in the peace and quiet that comes with being so far removed from the modern world.
CLOSEST TOWN Porto-Vecchio, 20 minutes away HOW TO GET THERE Drive WHEN May to September ACCOMMODATION Eco pods glampingcorsica.com
It’s hard not to do a double take when you spot the Bush Rover Company’s luxury mobile suite.
Yes, we repeat, a luxury mobile suite. Forget canvas tents or basic cabins, the Bush Rover Company is determined to provide an African safari experience that’s far removed from the norm. It all begins with an impressive go-anywhere LandRover, which, when not traversing the vast plains of the Serengeti, trundling through the Ngorongoro Highlands or attempting crossings of the mighty Grumeti River, transforms into the coolest rooftop set-up we’ve ever laid eyes on.
This extravagant abode is a palace on wheels, and folds out gracefully to reveal a spacious, elevated bedroom, spiral staircase, wood-panelled bathroom (complete with bath) and awesome balcony. Better than that, though, it allows you to safari with no limitations. You don’t need to head back to base camp at the end of each day and you can run a flexible itinerary taking a different track if the spirit moves you. The set-up offers the opportunity to cover so much more of the landscape than a traditional safari, and head into isolated pockets of the wilderness that aren’t normally visited. Most importantly, you leave no trace. Everything is packed up with the vehicle (don’t worry, you have help) and carried to the next destination, which, as mentioned, could be anywhere along the Tanzanian migration route. It’s the closest thing to joining roaming lions, elephants and wildebeest you may ever experience.
CLOSEST TOWN Changes depending on your location HOW TO GET THERE Four-wheel drive WHEN Open all year round ACCOMMODATION TYPE Rooftop tent tentwithaview.com
Like something out of a fairy tale (albeit one that’s more Brothers Grimm than Disney), the charcoal burners’ huts and cabins of quirky Kolarbyn Eco-Lodge will have you convinced you’ve landed the lead role in an adaptation of Snow White.
Located in the Swedish wilderness just outside Skinnskatteberg, Kolarbyn is hidden in a spruce forest, with just 12 huts scattered among the trees. Considered one of Sweden’s most primitive accommodation options, there’s no running water, no electricity and the kitchen amenities extend to a couple of barbecues and an open fireplace.
You’ll be expected to chop your own firewood, cook using the basic utensils found in the kitchen storage hut and BYO everything you’ll need for a couple of days off the grid. Want a wash? Just take a dip in nearby Lake Skärsjön, although if it’s really cold your best bet is heating water in the floating sauna. When you’re not busy lighting fires or picking blueberries, Kolarbyn offers an impressive range of activities: fill your days with fishing, cycling, kayaking, horse riding and wildlife spotting.
It’s survivalist meets off-grid here, and if you can get over the fact it looks like a place goblins or witches would build their lair, you’re in for a pretty cool time.
CLOSEST TOWN The town of Skinnskatteberg is four kilometres away HOW TO GET THERE Drive WHEN Open all year round ACCOMMODATION Charcoal burners’ huts kolarbyn.se
As soon as Timor-Leste starts figuring in your plans you’re already treading an unusual path. But for those who want to go off-grid in a part of the world that is already a tourism blind spot, head east.
Just off the tip of the country is tiny Jaco Island, an uninhabited dot in the ocean. This is where to get your Chuck Noland on – for a day, at least. The locals believe it’s sacred because it sits where the Banda and Timor seas meet, so unfortunately you and Wilson will have to return to the mainland before the sun sets.
Deserted beaches and coral drop-offs metres from the sand make for a perfect day in blissful isolation. Local fishermen will ferry you across the narrow passage from Tutuala Beach and pick you up later for about AU$15. You’ll need to make sure you’ve got everything with you – water, a picnic, sunscreen, snorkelling gear – because there is absolutely nothing once you arrive.
Planning to get to Jaco is essential. It’s about a seven-hour drive from capital Dili to Tutuala, then another eight-kilometre judder down a road accessible only by four-wheel drives to the beach. There you’ll find two basic guesthouses – Valusere and Lakumorre – right on the sand. Need to disappear for fair reasons or foul? You could do a lot worse than strand yourself here.
CLOSEST TOWN Tutuala HOW TO GET THERE Four-wheel drive then boat WHEN Year round, but the dry season is May to December ACCOMMODATION TYPE Guesthouses visiteasttimor.com
When it comes to off-grid accommodation, there’s remote then there’s helicopter-access-only remote. Alaska’s Sheldon Chalet happens to fall into the latter category. At 1828 metres and situated just 10 metres from the summit of North America’s highest mountain, Denali, this is about as isolated as a hotel can get.
With Sheldon Chalet’s extreme seclusion comes quite a few welcome perks though. First is the aforementioned helicopter trip from the tiny Alaskan outpost of Talkeetna. It’s 40 minutes of adrenaline-fuelled bliss, as you soar over forests, snow-capped mountains and glaciers, until you finally reach Sheldon Chalet perched on a rocky nunatak.
With five suites catering for just 10 guests at a time, you’ll be one of the lucky few treated to incredible Alaskan-inspired cuisine (courtesy of famed chef Dave Thorne), snug rooms complete with faux-fur blankets, and an expert team of staff and guides working to ensure you have a good time. While there’s no wifi or phone reception, between glacier treks, mountaineering ropes courses, sledding, natural history lessons and crevasse explorations, we’re pretty sure you wouldn’t have had time to update your status anyway.
Sheldon Chalet’s locale also happens to make it one of the best places to view the northern lights. Light the fire pit on the chalet’s deck, pop a bottle of champers and settle in to watch one of nature’s greatest performances. After all, who said going off-grid had to be hard?
CLOSEST TOWN Talkeetna, 40 minutes away HOW TO GET THERE Helicopter WHEN Open all year round ACCOMMODATION Luxury chalet sheldonchalet.com
While it’s easy to equate off-grid experiences with flimsy shelters, extreme weather, basic supplies and a location even Google Maps would struggle to find, it doesn’t have to be that way.
Take Italy’s Eremito, for example. Built to resemble an ancient monastery, this hotel turned spiritual retreat ticks all the right boxes for a remote escape. Located deep in the forested hills of Umbria, surrounded by nothing but 3000 hectares of natural reserve, it’s about as far away as you can get in the Italian countryside. To reach it requires a four-wheel-drive journey across rivers, down dirt tracks and up steep inclines – a cruisy Sunday outing this ain’t. When the trees clear you’ll be greeted by a looming structure – Eremito was constructed using 130,000 stones and took five years to complete.
Inside, the decor is sparse and simple, the only embellishment coming from ornate candelabras that illuminate every room in the absence of electricity. All meals are vegetarian, and dinner is eaten in silence. If you’re worried the quiet might drive you bonkers, Gregorian chants and classical music are played over a loudspeaker during the day. There’s no phone service, wifi is non-existent and you’ve more chance of spotting a unicorn than you do a TV, minibar or laptop.
Aside from morning yoga, checking out the walking trails, pottering around the veggie garden or relaxing in the wellness area, you’re going to have to master the art of doing nothing since that’s what Eremito is all about. If your quest for a remote retreat was born of a desire to digitally disconnect and spend time free from contemporary distractions, this might be your key to success.
CLOSEST TOWN 20 kilometres from the Umbrian town of Fabro HOW TO GET THERE Four-wheel drive WHEN Open all year round ACCOMMODATION Monastery style eremito.com
The 310-kilometre route kicks off in Dielsdorf, just outside Zurich, and quickly leaves the city behind. The Jura Crest Trail offers the best of both worlds, dipping in and out of civilisation (handy when you need to sleep and eat), but mostly ensuring you’re surrounded by nothing but endless mountain peaks.
Classified as an easy hiking track – OK, there are a few inclines that will get the heart pumping – the trail requires no specialist equipment, which means anyone who’s relatively fit, able and enthusiastic can give it a crack. The distance covered each day changes depending on which part of the route you’re on, with the shortest stage stretching only 14 kilometres and the longest a whopping 32 kilometres. The latter passes through the Creux du Van – Switzerland’s version of the Grand Canyon – but with views this beautiful, you won’t even notice the kilometres ticking over. Other highlights of the track include the Swiss Alps, Rhine Valley, Black Forest and the medieval towns of Baden and Brugg. With each stage finishing in a village, your sleeping options vary from hotels and inns to B&Bs.
By the time you’ve reached Nyon, near Geneva, you’ll have crossed valleys, cliffs and ravines, not to mention a language region. It’s an adventure for those who want to stray awayfrom beaten track, but not all the way off it.
CLOSEST TOWN The Jura Crest Trail runs between Zurich and Geneva HOW TO GET THERE Hike WHEN May to September ACCOMMODATION Various hotels, inns and B&Bs schweizmobil.ch
Take to the water on an overnight voyage that will have you exploring some of Nova Scotia’s best-kept secrets.
Traversing this rugged countryside doesn’t come easy. Along with a four-hour guided kayak tour, you’ll also snorkel the dazzling hidden bays of Blue Rocks and cycle scenic coastal trails. It’s an action-packed itinerary, but all the hard work is worthwhile.
Once you’ve finished paddling, cycling, exploring small fishing towns in the Lunenburg region and making friends with the local seal colony, all that’s left to do is kayak a short distance to your very own private island. The overnight component of Pleasant Paddling’s tour takes place on a tiny isle that’s home to a clear-ceilinged yurt.
It gets quite luxurious from here (you deserve it after a day of physical exertion), with an open fire, handcrafted bedding and linen, and a ready-to-prepare dinner featuring locally sourced produce and enough goodies to create a mouthwatering charcuterie board. An evening of stargazing through the roof of your yurt awaits – if you can manage to keep your eyes open – and you’ll awake to the wafting smells of a tasty brekky being prepared. If that doesn’t convince you an active escapade to Nova Scotia is worth it, we don’t know what will.
CLOSEST TOWN Lunenburg, 10 minutes from the Blue Rocks HOW TO GET THERE Kayak WHEN Mid-June to mid-September ACCOMMODATION TYPE Yurt pleasantpaddling.com
Searing temperatures, sweaty bodies, a sea of sand… If that sums up your desert touring experiences, we’re here to tell you you’ve been doing it very, very wrong.
It’s time to rectify rookie mistakes and embark on a mind-blowing desert safari like no other. La Route du Sud is a seven-day voyage that traverses more than a thousand kilometres of Moroccan desert, from the lush Souss Valley, home to millions of argan trees, to Legzira Beach on the Atlantic coast and inland again to the dry lake of Iriki and the southern edge of the Sahara Desert. It’s a journey you’ll undertake in comfort and style in a luxury four-wheel drive with guide and personal butler.
No day is wasted, with an incredible array of activities organised for guests, including a gourmet picnic atop a medieval fortress, wine tastings, traditional massages, cooking classes and a dromedary ride. Accommodation on tour ranges from opulent private houses and the exclusive Dar Ahlam Hotel (ranked one of the best in the world) to a nomadic desert camp nestled in the sand hills – it’s glamping, but on steroids. And don’t even get us started on the food. The ridiculously high standards continue at mealtime, so whether it’s a candlelit dinner in the dunes or a delicious morning spread of locally baked treats, there’s no chance you’ll go hungry. Suddenly a jaunt in the desert doesn’t sound too bad.
CLOSEST TOWN The first stop in Azrarag is a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Marrakech HOW TO GET THERE Four-wheel drive WHEN Mid-September to mid-May ACCOMMODATION Private houses, hotels and desert camps darahlam.com
When it comes to travel, the phrase “once in a lifetime” gets thrown around like compacted ice in a snowball fight. Occasionally, however, an experience lives up to the hype, like this six-day Sami Reindeer Spring Migration tour with Visit Natives.
In the far-flung Norwegian town of Alta, you’ll be collected and driven to meet the Sami family who will become your companions for the following week. From there, say goodbye to wifi, throw the itinerary out the window and expect the unexpected – you’re now on Sami time and anything goes. Days consist of herding the semi-domesticated reindeer, both on foot and by snowmobile, across frozen Arctic plains. As the reindeer are known to stop and start as they please – they often refuse to move from one location for days on end – guests are kept occupied with ice fishing and Sami skiing.
Accommodation on the trek includes wilderness cabins and traditional lavvu tents, which you’ll share with the family. The tour offers an intimate insight into the Sami’s fascinating, age-old way of life, and helps guests understand why preserving traditional practices is so important.
Think you can handle a couple of days spent trudging through the snow? There’s little chance you’ll ever regret joining the Sami on their annual spring reindeer migration. It really is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
CLOSEST TOWN Alta HOW TO GET THERE Drive to join the Sami family WHEN April and May ACCOMMODATION Wooden cabins and traditional tents visitnatives.com
Ever wondered what it would be like to sleep in an igloo? Dreamed of exploring the highest peaks of the Himalayas? As the saying goes, ‘Why not have both?’
If you want to combine a true off-grid experience with one of the coolest (literally) accommodation options on offer, now is your chance at the newly opened Himalayan igloo camp. The closest settlement to the icy digs is Manali, a high-altitude town in India’s remote Himachal Pradesh region in the country’s north. From there, the igloo camp is a 45-minute four-wheel-drive trip through thick pine forests and along steep mountainous roads, followed by a 30-minute hike through the snow. It can be an arduous journey (heavy snowfall can make the voyage even longer), but your chance to stay in one of the camp’s five frozen abodes will make it all worthwhile.
Each igloo sleeps four, and while temperatures outside can drop to an incredibly chilly –15ºC, you’ll be warm and toasty with a hot water bottle, alpine sleeping bag and thick foam mattress. Your one-night stay involves a slew of activities, with snow trekking, skiing and tubing all available to try out. There’s even the opportunity to build your own igloo, which, thankfully, you’re not expected to sleep in. After a hearty meal and free-flowing hot drinks, you’ll spend the evening around the bonfire listening to music.
It may only be a 24-hour reprieve from civilisation, but one frosty night under the Himalayan stars is all you’ll need to experience life off the grid.
CLOSEST TOWN The Himalayan township of Manali is 18 kilometres away HOW TO GET THERE Four-wheel drive WHEN January to March ACCOMMODATION Igloo keylinga.com
Despite the challenges the developing Amazon basin is facing, there are still pockets that remain untouched by the modern world.
Tucked away at the confluence of the Yarapa and Cumaceba rivers is this hidden gem offering outsiders the opportunity to experience the magic of this sacred area. Surrounded by 140 hectares of protected rainforest, Treehouse Lodge is about as deep in the Peruvian Amazon as you can get. With no connecting roads to the lodge, a two-and-a-half-hour boat journey is the only way to reach this jungle paradise.
The lodge comprises 11 sky-high treehouses, ranging from the Casa Grande, which is only 10 metres off the ground, to the vertigo-inducing Casa Alta, which sits 20 metres in the air. It’s here, suspended in the lush canopy high above the heat and humidity of the jungle floor, that you can best appreciate the Amazon’s unspoiled beauty.
A stay at Treehouse Lodge is all-inclusive, so along with your nest in the branches (it comes with king-size bed, mosquito net and private bathroom), food, non-alcoholic drinks and excursions are also covered. The excursions – jungle walks, piranha fishing, sunset cruises to spot Amazon dolphins, a blowdart workshop – highlight the best of this remote region. You may also want to simply hang out in your treehouse, with only the macaws, squirrel monkeys and sloths for company. The choice is up to you.
CLOSEST TOWN Two and a half hours from Iquitos HOW TO GET THERE Boat WHEN Open all year round ACCOMMODATION Treehouse treehouselodge.com
I’m eating a Buddha’s head and watching mist-shrouded mountains cool their feet in the sea along Taiwan’s striking east coast. The sweet tropical fruit is a popular local treat, named for its cranial shape. Beneath the surface, its gooey texture and delicious flavour come as a surprise. As do the mountains. They rear up dramatically, dominating the landscape with great spines and pyramids gussied up in fairway green. From the ocean, looking back between waves, the effect they create is one of unfamiliar land. It’s as if a Hawaiian island has steered off course and run aground near southern China.Beautiful beginner waves right by the coastal highway.
Taiwan is dubbed the Heart of Asia, yet it has more in common with Pacific Islands than you might expect. This starts with the fact that it is, in fact, a Pacific island. Anchored between Japan and the Philippines and dissected by the Tropic of Cancer, it’s subtropical, volcanic, warm watered, palm tree-lined and fringed with reefs and beaches.
It’s so lush in November it looks like nature has taken control. Wild flowers bloom by the roadside, grass shoots through cracks in the footpath, betel nut palms dance wildly in the wind. I expected crowded cities grimly churning out plastic toys, running shoes and smog. Not this.
I spoon out the last of my sticky brain food and focus on the unfamiliar sea. The tide is dropping and the swell appears to be building. I rouse my driver and we set off on the coastal road north. Highway 11 hugs the seafront, affording endless panoramas and easy surf checks. We wind through small fishing towns, past perpendicular sea cliffs and stop to assess conditions and talk to locals who are all friendly and obliging. Two Taiwanese surfers make me feel instantly at home when they introduce themselves with their anglicised names, Shane and Brett. They tell me about the recent typhoon that up-ended the ocean floor, flattened sections of coast and dished up their ideal waves.
We drive into the early afternoon and the search for swell morphs into a quest for food. It’s my third day on the island and already a glorious pattern is forming: surf, food, coffee, surf and more food. Meals are always varied, delicious and emphatically Asian. What many might lump together as Chinese food is divided into regional variants: Fujian seafood cooked in red wine and spices, sweet and sour flavours from Canton and spicy marinades from Sichuan. Then there’s Japanese, Korean and Indonesian, plus a plethora of other world food on offer.
Eating out is popular in Taiwan, and the variety and quality of options is astonishing. Fist-sized pork mince wontons have become a post-surf favourite, but today my guide has something special in mind. We book a table at a highly regarded aboriginal restaurant near the tiny village of Fengbin. Gnarled driftwood and local art decorate the building. There is no menu and little service – only supreme confidence in the food. The chef dishes up what has been caught or harvested that day. And out it comes – 11 courses in total – all of it fresh, delicately flavoured and presented like crisp origami. It’s the sort of two-hour degustation you might expect in a major city, but not among the fishing boats, guesthouses and surf breaks of Taiwan’s sparsely populated east coast.
The island’s indigenous people are not just accomplished foodies but also descendants of Austronesian peoples with genetic ties to Oceania, Indonesia and faraway Madagascar. Celebrating indigenous culture – via restaurants, galleries, markets and music performances – has become a subtle way for the Taiwanese to underscore their national identity and highlight the ways the island differs from China.
Taiwan’s relationship with the world’s biggest populace is complex, but you get a bit of an insight when you scope a map of Taiwan and notice that all of China is included on the page. In fact, Taiwan’s official name is the Republic of China, which is not to be confused with the People’s Republic of China. It’s an intricate and ongoing historical chapter, best discussed over an 11-course seafood feast.
The short explanation is that after the communists defeated the KMT (China’s National People’s Party) in 1949, two million of its followers fled to Taiwan and attempted to rule from there. Members of the KMT allegedly grabbed as much valuable art as they could when they fled the mainland. Taiwan is now home to one of the greatest repositories of classical Chinese art, with antiques that date back more than 8000 years housed in the National Palace Museum in Taipei. In fact, following China’s Cultural Revolution in the 1960s, which saw the destruction of art and literature, aspects of Taiwan appear as a living museum of traditional Chinese art, culture and religion.
The days slide by blissfully, full of more waves, scenery, food and astonishing discoveries. I nibble on a deep-fried duck’s head from a street stall. I drink hot water and cold tea. I watch a band play the blues on homemade driftwood guitars. I visit a quirky roadside attraction where water seems to run uphill and another that marks the Tropic of Cancer with what appears to be a giant clothes peg. I consider, but eventually decline, the virtues of cupping – a popular alternative therapy involving hot cups, round welts and considerable discomfort. My three phrases of Mandarin get a daily workout and a generous reception. The Taiwanese reputation for geniality is confirmed over and over again and I wonder why I haven’t visited earlier.
On a rain-pattered day we travel into the East Rift Valley, a fertile rice-growing region sandwiched between coastal mountains and the taller central peaks, passing pelotons of Lycra-clad cyclists along the way. Pedal power is becoming popular in Taiwan and touring is, I’m assured, a brilliant way to see and experience the country. Dedicated cycle paths are springing up and I hear of plans to link the whole country via a 5000-kilometre bike route. Already, Taipei City has a public bike-hiring network, YouBike, for tourists and locals alike. It’s part of a broader push towards healthy sustainable tourism.
For the less active, hot air ballooning and paragliding are big in the summer months, from June to August. Inland, the scenery is even more vertiginous and lush than by the sea. The Taiwanese themselves have only recently grasped the full extent of the country’s natural bounty. A hugely influential nature documentary featuring stunning aerial photography, Beyond Beauty: Taiwan from Above, released in 2013, was the first time most locals had seen their own country from such a breathtaking angle. It opened their eyes to the full majesty of Taiwan’s wild places and encouraged an interest in protecting them.
It begins to dawn on me that I’ve only seen a fraction of what Taiwan has to offer. For a country half the half the size of Tasmania, it squeezes in an incredible number of mountains. More than 200 of them measure more than 3000-metres high, including Mount Jade, the tallest peak in Northeast Asia. Then there are the islands, the cities and the stunning southern coast.
On another sightseeing afternoon I meet a family of Formosan rock monkeys at a roadside lookout. Knowing their reputation for theft and low-grade assault I approach with caution. But even the local primates are unfailingly polite. Photos are taken and significant eye contact engaged without incident. Inspired, we make plans to drive further north the following day to explore more of the East Rift Valley, but then something intervenes.
Something ominous and, dare I say, wonderful. A typhoon. It is a small storm, spiralling far out to sea, but it produces a welcome uptick in the surf. After a hurried breakfast we hoon up the coast full of coffee and good cheer, seeing waves everywhere, although never sure if there will be an even better one around the next bend. An international competition, the Taiwan Open of Surfing, is in full swing near Taitung but I’m in no mood for spectating. We push on and find a dreamy break that runs the length of a palm-lined point. Incredibly, there is only one surfer out. I join him then two French girls join us.
The sun peers out from a cloud bank and Taiwan steams and glows. We trade waves and stories, and I paddle slowly, savouring the view and the moment. Afterwards, a friendly local shows me some footage of the same break on an A-grade day. “Number one wave in Taiwan,” he tells me proudly. I surf elsewhere in the afternoon, the only westerner among 20 grinning locals, as the swell peaks and the wind eases. That night, we dine in a swish Japanese restaurant, clinking glasses of tasty craft beer and I lose count of my lucky stars.
I’m in no position to make this claim, but I suspect now is a good time to visit Taiwan. For surfers, the waves are still mostly uncrowded, yet there’s enough infrastructure to find them. You can engage a surf guide or stay in a surf resort or guesthouse that hires out boards. The waves may not often be world-class but they are super fun and well-suited to beginners and intermediates.
Likewise, for non-surfers, Taiwan is at a happy historical junction where traditional culture is still vibrant but proper coffee is easy to find. In fact, my guide tells me that a dream among members of her generation is to run a cafe. She takes me to one in Taitung that would make a Melbourne coffee snob flush with excitement.
My final day is spent immersed in a communal hot spring, sipping ginger tea in a misty valley near Zhiben. The effects of the minerals and volcanic heat produce a feeling of immense relaxation. The head clears, stress melts off the shoulders and the mind is receptive to uncluttered contemplation. It would be the perfect treatment for a devoted office worker who has just put in another 60-hour week. And for a fella who has spent the past seven days surfing, sightseeing and digesting, it is heaven itself.
All day I’ve been resisting the urge to buy a weapon. Everyone else in York seems to be tooled up for the weekend. The ancient city in England’s northeast is celebrating its Viking heritage with a festival of fighting, and people are wandering the gory-storied streets nonchalantly wielding one lethal-looking spiky implement or another.
There is, apparently, more to Viking life than violence. During the week-long celebration there’s loads of feasting, beer swilling and browsing to be done, between banquets, pop-up bars and markets selling Scandinavian arts and crafts. There’s also music, history and poetry aplenty to enjoy at performances in various venues around town. But let’s be honest, most people seem to be here for the beards and battles – to the extent that I’m feeling somewhat underdressed with my bare chin and lack of killing apparatus.
So when you’re walking home from the pub, with a mind moisturised by mead and other inebriating elixirs of old England, and you discover a double-headed Viking battleaxe just hanging from a church fence… Well, you can’t simply ignore it can you?
“If I don’t take this axe,” I reason, “someone even drunker than me will grab it and test it out on another person’s head. I’m performing a public service. And I get to keep a double-headed Viking battleaxe.”
It’s a good argument, well made – if I do say so myself – and that’s why, in the wee hours of a Friday night, I’m walking through Whip-Ma-Whop-Ma-Gate, across crooked cobblestones and past the higgledy-piggledy old buildings of the Shambles, carrying a wooden axe and talking to myself. It’s not a great look, but I’m pretty sure these twisted streets have witnessed much scarier sights.
Place names in York aren’t just quirky, they’re clues to the city’s history, which entails more violence and a bigger body count than a Game of Thrones box set. The Gate in Whip-Ma-Whop-Ma-Gate, for example, comes from the Norse word gata, meaning street, and this was once the site of the city’s whipping post.
York has been a powerhouse of northern England for nearly two millennia. The Romans founded the city in 71 CE, in the strategically sensible spot where the River Foss joins the River Ouse, granting them a natural defensive barrier on several sides.
Times were tough and rough back then, though, and to further shield themselves from the lethal locals, the occupiers built walls around the city, which steadily grew in importance. Two Roman emperors died in York, and one – Constantine the Great, who founded Constantinople and invented Christmas – was hailed as emperor here.
By the fourth century, however, things weren’t looking so sweet for the swords and sandals brigade in Britain. Having struggled to keep the barbarians at bay, the Italians eventually scuttled home to Rome, where the very foundations of their once mighty empire were crumbling.
Amid the chaos and carnage that rushed into the vacuum they left behind, Anglo-Saxons moved in and a Middle Eastern cult called Christianity managed to take hold, with York as its epicentre. Churches began sprouting up across the city, one of them ultimately evolving into the mighty York Minster, which still towers over inhabitants of the modern city like a gorgeous Gothic guilt complex.
The church grew wealthy, which attracted a new breed of invader from across the North Sea. Vikings began arriving in 793 to plunder monasteries, pocket gold, steal men, women and children to sell as slaves, and generally create merry hell all over the British Isles.
Viking warriors were the Dark Ages’ most formidable fighting force, with fast ships, superior weapons and a ruthless approach to battle. Their arrival was like a tsunami of terror that hit the coast and washed right across the country.
Led by men with names like Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye, Ivar the Boneless, Halfdan Ragnarsson, Sweyn Forkbeard and Eric Bloodaxe, these flaxen-haired hard nuts soon controlled most of England. York – or Jórvík as they called it – was their main base.
It didn’t always go the Viking’s way. In 954, Eric Bloodaxe was driven from York and killed, and the city was reclaimed by the Anglo-Saxons. The Vikings, however, soon bounced back, setting the scene for an almighty dust-up that took place exactly 1000 years ago. It forms the theme for this year’s festival. The Battle of Assandun was fought between Danish King Canute – aka Cnut the Great – and England’s King Edmund Ironside in 1016.
As the weekend gets going, scenes in pubs across York’s city centre become surreal. Young women on hens’ nights, wearing skirts that barely pass their waists, mingle with rugged old Vikings sporting beards to their knees. In fact, between hipsters on bucks’ parties and men dressed as Vikings, I’m virtually the only beardless bloke in town, and I’m starting to feel slightly self-conscious.
Predictably, this only gets worse during Saturday’s best beard contest, which draws a huge crowd of hirsute heroes and hairy hangers-on to the City Camp in Parliament Street. Shamed by my lack of face foliage, I soon decamp to the toughest Viking competition, the Brawl in the Guildhall, which is a little like American wrestling meets World’s Strongest Man with some axes thrown in for good measure.
Alongside a boisterous crowd, I watch as four wannabe warriors take on a series of brawn-based challenges, such as running around with logs on their shoulders, before squaring up for various bouts of fighting. Things get particularly interesting when one of the combatants – the local favourite – lets out a shriek of pain as his opponent accidentally axes him in the face. Real blood flows, but fortunately it’s only a flesh wound, and his beard remains unscathed. The crowd laps it up, and the homegrown hero is ultimately declared the winner.
In the sober light of day, I opt to leave my newly acquired weapon back at the hotel, but the city is in full Viking mode now, and there are wenches and warriors everywhere. Some look less berserker and more Bill Bailey – I suspect there’s quite a few IT specialists here – but plenty make a decent stab at coming across as the real deal.
There’s also a smattering of genuine Viking blood among the marauding hordes. Travellers are drawn to this unique and extraordinary spectacle from all over the planet, including Australia, but there’s a considerable contingent of Scandinavians. During the weekend I meet Danes, Swedes, Norwegians and an Icelander, all delighted their culture is being celebrated and commemorated so uproariously by the descendants of the very people whose arses they whipped a thousand years ago.
It’s about to kick off again. During the day, the rival forces, all dressed in full battle garb, amass around the ankles of York Minster. There’s much sabre rattling and rabble rousing as the two mock armies march through the centre of the city. The streets are lined with onlookers, some clutching swords, others cuddling beers. There’s a strange mix of tension, expectation and celebration in the air – like the atmosphere at a derby day football match. But this is just the dress rehearsal.
When the sun dips, the two armies face each other again – in a theatre of war in front of York’s historic Clifford’s Tower, built by William the Conqueror (himself a descendant of Vikings) a few years after the Battle of Assandun.
This time things are more serious. In the real bloody battle, Canute’s Vikings were victorious over Edmund’s Englishmen, but during these dramatic re-enactments things can go either way. Actual fatalities are discouraged, but the rules state that if you are walloped by a weapon you have to lay down dead – it’s like a medieval version of paintball.
Twice the clans clash, taking a victory apiece under a sky regularly ripped apart by fireworks, but in the final action the Danes come out on top and history repeats itself. England’s destiny is decided in favour of the invaders again. The slain return to life and everyone heads off to wet their beards with beer – friends again until next year.
As timeless as it is quirky, Amsterdam is the kind of place romantics put on their bucket list, and the type of destination travellers want to come back to. Ignore the rise of river cruise ships. Forget about the coffee shops. Instead, enjoy the curiosities in a city where you can ride a bike through a museum filled with billions of dollars of art on your way to dinner at a restaurant whose previous tenant operated red light windows. While Amsterdam’s tick-the-box attractions can easily fill your days, take advantage of the country’s excellent rail services to venture a little further to less-visited destinations like Utrecht, Rotterdam and The Hague to truly understand why the Dutch way of life is so desirable.
These are our tips for a five-day Amsterdam trip.
DAY ONE (AMSTERDAM)
Amsterdam is a city conquered by water. Get better acquainted with the waterways by hopping on a 75-minute canal-boat tour departing Amsterdam Centraal Station. Next, book in advance to visit Amsterdam’s most important and sombre attraction, Anne Frank House, where the young girl hid during the Nazi occupation of Holland.
Afterwards, head to the nearby Begijnhof for some quiet reflection away from the din of bicycle bells. Considered the city’s worst-kept secret, the garden and private chapel is accessible by an unmarked heavy wooden door just off the plaza known as the Spui. When darkness falls, check out the Paradiso, Amsterdam’s cathedral turned live music venue, favoured by performers for its acoustics and atmosphere.
After an obligatory tiptoe through the tourists at the Bloemenmarkt, the city’s floating flower market, head to Museumplein to get your culture on (and take that mandatory selfie next to the I amsterdam sign). Seeing Holland’s best art galleries in a day requires strategy: book in advance and hit the Van Gogh Museum when it opens, follow with a lap of the underrated Stedelijk modern art museum next door, before rounding out the day at the Rijksmuseum when crowds have dropped off.
At dusk, visit De Wallen, the city’s old Red Light District. It’s vastly overhyped, but bypass the overpriced bars and head down the cobbled Zeedijk, settling into one of the city’s old brown bars – so named for their wooden interiors – for a tipple of jenever (Dutch gin).
DAY THREE (AMSTERDAM)
Keep the party going with a visit to the Heineken Experience, showcasing Holland’s best-known beer export. Along with organised tours and sample beers, you can pick up what is for many the ultimate souvenir: a bottle of beer with your name on it. Not quite your cup of brew? Those looking to fill their suitcases should seek out Amsterdam’s 9 Straatjes or Nine Streets, a stylish concentration of the city’s best local designer stores, art galleries, upmarket cafes and vintage shops. From there, put your pedal power to good use to explore the leafy green surrounds of the picture-perfect Jordaan residential and arts neighbourhood, or if you’re not museum-ed out, head to Hermitage Amsterdam, which hosts satellite exhibitions on loan from the larger Russian collection in Saint Petersburg.
DAY FOUR (UTRECHT)
Jump on a train to Utrecht, a university town described by locals as Amsterdam without the tourists. Rent a bike from the tourist office and head out along the River Vecht, past eighteenth-century windmills, historic country castles and tiny villages for a taste of local life in the Dutch countryside.
In the afternoon, return your bike and climb up the 600-year-old, 112-metre Dom Tower, the city’s most famous landmark. After smashing the 400-odd steps to the top, reward yourself with a beer at Oudean, a medieval castle turned brewery on the canal in the historical centre. Finish the day at Olivier, a decommissioned church turned Belgian beer cafe.
DAY FIVE (ROTTERDAM)
The Netherlands’ most futuristic city is an hour away from Amsterdam, but a world away in modern design. Take in its jarringly post-modern architectural highlights, including Erasmus Bridge, the famous yellow cube houses and the enormous tunnel-like Market Hall. While adventurers can abseil down the landmark Euromast observation tower, those after a slower pace should seek out the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen. In the late afternoon, stretch out on a terrace for some premium people-watching opportunities along the Witte de Withstraat, one of the city’s most vibrant bar and arts hubs. Once you’ve sunk your pint of Amstel, browse the collection of museums and galleries, keeping an eye out for de Aanschouw, the world’s smallest art gallery, with works changing weekly.
There’s no sugar coating it – accommodation can get pricey in Amsterdam. Dorm beds at the Flying Pig start at AU$57, while Hans Brinker, which once dubbed itself the ‘worst hotel in the world’ has doubles for AU$129. Our pick? Stay in a houseboat B&B on the canals. Prices vary depending on the season, with cheaper, more spacious options located out of the main canal belt from AU$150 for two with bike rental.
TOTAL = AU$750 (or AU$375 per person)
FOOD AND DRINK
Holland’s best culinary treats are cheap and cheerful. During summer, pickled herring (affectingly known as Dutch sushi) can be sampled for a few euros, while bitterballen (deep-fried gravy meatballs) are a popular bar snack.
At 3am nothing beats a fried treat from a FEBO hole-in-the-wall coin machine, but for a filling, sit-down meal, try Caribbean-style Suriname food. Plan on budgeting around AU$100 per day.
TOTAL = AU$500
TRANSPORT
Return flights from Sydney to Amsterdam with Qatar Airways – from AU$1650
Return train to the airport – AU$20
Train ticket Amsterdam to Utrecht return – AU$24
Train ticket Amsterdam to Rotterdam return – AU$52
Bike hire for five days – AU$74
TOTAL = AU$1820
TOURS AND ACTIVITIES
Anne Frank House – AU$13
Canal Boat Tour – AU$23
Van Gogh Museum – AU$25
Rijksmuseum – AU$26
Stedelijk – AU$26
Dom Tower – AU$13
Heineken Experience – AU$24
The Hermitage – AU$26
Euromast abseiling or ziplining – AU$81
Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen – AU$22
TOTAL = AU$279
GRAND TOTAL = AU$2974
WHEN TO GO
Spring, which coincides with tulip time, and summer is peak season for the city, however with most attractions located indoors, Amsterdam is the perfect year-round destination.
TOP TIP
Visiting during summer? Rock your socks at Friday Night Skate. Rollerblading might have fallen out of fashion elsewhere, but lives on in Amsterdam. Each Friday evening during summer the streets are shut down and thousands show up to skate behind DJs in trucks blasting tunes along a kilometre-long route. It’s so popular, there’s also a Wednesday Night Skate in Rotterdam.
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