DESPATCHES
We are continually researching new destinations and experiences to help make our tailor made service better. Here is where you will find details of our most recent explorations.
FIONA BRIJNATH CROSS THE POLAR CIRCLE ABOARD PLANCIUS
Antarctic Peninsula – March 2010
First it was a creaking, groaning sound, then a sharp crack, like a gunshot. Finally a whooshing thump and suddenly the expedition staff were shouting “off the beach, off the beach”. We ran from the shoreline and watched the waves sucked from the shore, then a wall of water bore down on us, catching numerous penguins unaware and sending them headlong into the boiling surf. This was Niko Bay, close to the Antarctic Peninsula and we had just witnessed the “calving” of a magnificent ice-blue glacier. I, along with a handful of loyal clients had joined the new Dutch ship Plancius for a voyage of discovery starting in Ushuaia on Argentina’s southern tip – crossing the notorious Drake Passage to the South Shetland Islands and further south down the Antarctic Peninsula to cross the Polar Circle at 66 degrees south.
The voyage was in late March, technically late in the season, but we were astounded by how much we saw, all weathers thrown at us and a superb range of wildlife and seabirds. Enormous majestic icebergs shot through with cobalt-blue stripes floated quietly by as we sailed gently through startlingly narrow channels, necks craned to catch the top of the snowy peaks on either side of us. I was glad of my seven layers of clothing and sturdy rubber boots loaned to all passengers as we zodiac cruised in driving hail and horizontal snow blizzards, with an average of two shore landings per day. I was impressed with the variety and quality – an abundance of whaling stations one day, a beautifully restored British base another. Inquisitive fur seals, standing tall on their front flippers, long whiskers quivering, for a better view; the grunts and snorts of a group of enormous elephant seals; the comical penguin waddle of Gentoos, Chinstraps and Adelis and possibly the southern most sighting of a Macaroni penguin – with his yellow topknot making a firm distinction between him and his other penguin neighbours. Without doubt my favourite day was an unforgettable encounter with a hunting leopard seal who spent half an hour circling our zodiac and playing cat and mouse with several unfortunate penguins who were captured and released and caught again by this most efficient of hunters.
Crossing the Drake Passage once more, the remainder of the voyage flew by with great lectures on a variety of topics from flora and fauna to historical accounts of former intrepid expeditions. One can barely imagine how those tough and stoic voyagers could have managed in such an unforgiving climate, in some cases sacrificing their lives to chart many of the places we visit today from the comfort of our delightful ship with its cosy cabins, delicious food and inviting bar!
My visit to the White Continent is something that will stay with me forever – if you would like to know more or to plan a voyage for yourself, please do call me for further details.
ABERDEEN TO SPITSBERGEN
JUNE 2009
This summer, in a journey of new and very different experiences, I found myself boarding a Russian former oceanographic vessel for an unusual voyage from Aberdeen through the outlying Scottish islands to Jan Mayen and finally to Spitsbergen situated at 78 degrees North in the Arctic Circle.
The ship, though not luxurious, was clean and comfortable with attractive cabins, cosy bar, convivial dining room and a great open air observation deck which gave far-reaching views of the North Atlantic and its numerous sea birds, concentrations of whales and rugged windswept islands, some without habitation.
With a great sense of anticipation, the engines started and we slid smoothly out of harbour into the North Sea, tipping our hats to the lighthouse en route. Our first shore landing, by Zodiac (a rigid inflatable boat) was in a tranquil bay at Hoy, where glorious white sandy beaches greeted us and the mewing of nesting sea birds on the high cliffs above us competed only with the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach. We had a glorious three hour walk to the far side of the island to marvel at the 137m rock stack, affectionately known as The Old Man of Hoy!
Continuing our journey north we landed at Thorshavn the capital of Strom Island in the Faroes where we strolled about the old town: brightly painted houses of shocking yellow, cobalt blue and rust-red scattered about the harbour, with unusual peat and grass roofs of muted green. We watched the ships coming in and out and relaxed to the music of halyards flapping in the wind while enjoying a chilled beer on the quay. All too soon we were off again but as the sun barely sets at this time of the year we took a magical Zodiac trip close along the teaming bird cliffs where fulmars and puffins nesting shoulder to shoulder squawked and flapped to get the best nesting sites. When I next looked at my watch, having taken the Zodiac up into a picturesque sandy fjord and visited a tiny grass roofed church, it was 11.30pm. The constant daylight at this time of the year can be most disconcerting.
Two days sail north of the Faroes is Jan Mayen Island , an extraordinary windswept place of volcanic sandy beaches, gigantic boulders and weird rock formations, dominated by the majestic lines of 2277m Beerenburg Volcano. It is here that 18th and 19th centuries conquests were played out with early European explorers, mounting dangerous expeditions to claim these new and exciting territories and the whaling and hunting rights to go with them. An all day walk found us at the remains of the 19th century Austrian hut, though little was left, and one could easily imagine the exhausted sailors coming ashore to set up their remote bases, relieved to make dry land after endless tough days at sea.
Leaving the beach littered with driftwood and whale bones we spent a fascinating hour watching humpback whales feeding just off the point. One can never tire of seeing those gigantic tail fins sliding graciously into the dark waters of the Norwegian Sea.
Our final destination was Spitsbergen, situated at 78 degrees North, the very essence of Arctic wilderness. Rising exceedingly early, I headed out on deck and watched in anticipation as we slid into Hornsund, a glorious deep fjord, where the reflections of the majestic snow peaks glimmered on the icy waters and the only sound was the mewing of kittiwakes and the crunching of keel against iceberg. Barely had we entered the sound when we spotted a lone polar bear enjoying an early morning meal on a piece of floating ice. Nothing quite prepares one for the sheer mass and power of this creature and the penetrating stare of his coal black eyes, as he nonchalantly looked about him before easing into the water and swimming away in unhurried fashion. Later we made an unforgettable shore landing by Zodiac, to stroll among glorious purple saxifrage blooms, orange lichen and boulder-strewn mossy turf to explore the bird cliffs quite frenetic with noise and watch the ghostly aura of our ship as she lay quietly in the bay, snow, blue sky and thin layers of drifting mist all around.
I could think of no better way to top the last ten days, or could I? There is a ship leaving tomorrow to North Spitsbergen and I wish I was on it!
We have a comprehensive brochure covering all our polar voyages in both the Arctic and Antarctic. Please ask for details.
JOURNEY THROUGH BOLIVIA
APRIL 2009
The patchwork fields of yellow, green and hues of brown and rolling hills dotted with tall thin trees and tiny picturesque homesteads were more reminiscent of Tuscany, I thought to myself, than the dramatic highlands of Potosi. Only the stout, trilby topped figures with twin thick black plaits down their backs and colourful shawls, that I frequently saw herding sheep on the roadside gave me any clue that this was in fact Bolivia.
I was excited to be here. Whilst the development of tourism in many parts of South America has been quite rapid, Bolivia has found it harder to promote its charms and has lived somewhat in the shadow of its more well-known and often visited neighbours: Chile, Argentina, Peru and Brazil whose highlights have been promoted the world over. As a result much of the country is delightfully unspoilt and such is the breadth of its natural beauty it rather left me wondering why it doesn’t have more visitors.
If I had to choose the most memorable days of my trip it would be those spent around the extraordinary salt flats of Sala du Uyuni. This area is the size of Hong Kong, some 12000sq. kms of unbroken blinding white salt crushing up from the earth with a backdrop of snow-capped volcanic peaks and extinct craters festooned with giant cacti.
I stayed at the Salt Hotel, completely built of salt bricks, even the bed, and a floor of salt crystals scattered with colourful local rugs. Sunset over the “sala” while a powerful thunderstorm played out over Tunapa Volcano in the gathering gloom made this truly unique setting seem all the more special. The next day I embarked on a 650km round trip by 4wd into the depths of southern Bolivia to see Laguna Colorada, a glorious place so named because of its rust red waters created by the complex combination of minerals contained in the lagoon. What a spot! I picnicked on the shoreline, sun on my back, listening to the twitterings of the flamingos and watching a pair of Andean Geese guide their young brood through the spiky reeds under the constant gaze of immensely brooding hills and 5000m snow topped peaks.
An epic drive back to Uyuni saw us fording torrents, braving a sudden an unexpected snow shower and running the gauntlet of a powerful electric storm. This is the stuff of adventure travel!
But Bolivia’s not all about natural beauty and colonial cities. Here you also come close to poverty at grass roots level. What moved me most? Was it a visit to the silver mines at Potosi where I encountered first hand the miners who work 14 hour days in cramped, damp and dangerous conditions for 80 Bolivare (roughly £8) per day? Or was it the mother who, with three small children at her skirts, sat in a dark shack and bagged salt for 12 hours at a time for 20 Bolivian cents a kilo. I felt desperately sad, and yet at the same time it is important to see some of the real Bolivia and I am hopeful that I can play a small part in bringing our two cultures closer together and thereby help to improve some tough lives.
Bolivia has no coastline but it does have Lake Titicaca, 3100 square miles of tidal freshwater lake. Here I visited the Kallawaya, a witch doctor who can read your future in cocoa leaves. Sitting cross-legged in a darkened room, surrounded by his numerous jars of potions and remedies, he chanted a blessing on my travels and, throwing a tumbler of coca leaves onto his fire, sent flames shooting out into the room, thereby securing the protection of “Pacha Mama”, the Mother Earth, over the remainder of my trip.
The next morning, I took a thrilling hydrofoil trip skimming the dazzling blue waves of Lake Titicaca, to have lunch on a floating reed-bed island with the ethnic Iruitos people. In glorious sunshine I sat cross-legged with the colourfully attired families and picnicked on delicious locally made cheese, beans, sweet-corn, potatoes and fried fish. In the afternoon, floating away in a reed boat reminiscent of a Thor Heyerdahl Expedition, I continued my journey across the lake, stepping ashore on a number of tiny islands each with its own character and surprises. There were Inca ruins and tumbledown temples, sheep roaming on pebble beaches and gardens of wild flowers and herbs.
My last night in Bolivia was spent in a glorious lodge, perched high on a terraced plateau with pretty rooms and lovely cottage gardens. Here I walked to the top of the island to watch sunset over the Andes before joining the locals in a colourful fiesta where the women danced and whirled to the frantic tempo of a local band and fireworks lit the sky in a colourful tribute to a perfect stay.
ARCTIC NORWAY
February 2009
One of my most recent trips was to the indescribable beauty of Arctic Norway, 200km north of the Arctic Circle, where she had a memorable experience learning to drive her own dog sled team!
Crossing the Arctic Circle and lining up on its final approach, the plane dipped low, first over deep fjords and then crossing turquoise waters with a backdrop of snow covered peaks where tiny bright blue, red and yellow cabins stood starkly against the rugged backdrop of Arctic Norway. Later, as we drove towards the National Park, elk crashed through the forest and the sun dropped behind the mountain bringing early darkness and sending the temperature plunging to minus 29 degrees C. I, however, soon found myself cosily settled into my accommodation, a delightful wooden cabin, thickly insulated and beautifully warmed by a small but efficient log stove and equipped with fluffy duvets and a fridge stocked with all sorts of tasty delights. This was to be my home for the next few days, an idyllic spot close to the Dividalen National Park, some two hours drive from Tromso in the very Northern part of Norway.
Next morning dawned blue and extremely cold and I donned the thick felt lined boots and all-in-one snow suit before starting my thrilling journey by dog sled through the surrounding hills and valleys. Without a doubt, my favourite track was one narrow trail which wound gently through whispering snow-clad pines dipping and rising and back-lit by the sun which shone weakly as the wind blasted the spindrift across the surface of the frozen river onto which we had suddenly emerged. My trusty dogs, all eager and willing Alaskan huskies, were pulling and panting and there was no other sound to intrude on my thoughts except the crunching of snow and hiss of the runners under my boots. I was pure poetry!
My Norwegian friends took me to their enchanting weekend hide-out: a perfect little log cabin perched on a bluff overlooking their very own ice-rink, a stunning frozen lake where we anchored the dogs and headed inside to drink hot black tea and enjoy a delicious feast of nutty bread and smoked meats, exhaling frosty plumes as we chatted. It was clearly warmer outside than in!
Before long there was chaos in the ranks as the dogs leapt and yowled, eager to be off once more and we set off the sleds on a course for home to a welcome beer and steamy plate of elk and reindeer stew followed by an invigoration sauna in the hot tub.
Racing madly through the snow from the steaming clutches of the sauna, to sink gracefully into the 70 degree waters, I ended my day bathing in the delicious warmth under a starlit sky wearing nothing but a woolly hat!
On this unforgettable trip the only excitement that had eluded me was the Northern Lights. Well, there’s always next time!
Through Arcturus, our Polar arm, we offer a selection of dog sledding adventures from a beginner’s trip to more challenging journeys from hut to hut, and extensions out to the coast to discover the picturesque Lofoten Islands or visit the Sami (Lapp) people in their reindeer herding camps high in the mountains.
SYRIA
OCTOBER 2008
I HAVE CHEAP AND NASTY, OH NO he said, smacking his forehead and actually blushing. I mean CHEAP AND NICE. SO SORRY , MY ENGLISH, I HAVE JUST LEARNT.
This friendly and amusing exchange with a shawl seller in the museum souks of Aleppo was typical of my recent visit to Syria. I was there by invitation of the Ministry for Tourism who are anxious to put right the West’s perception of visiting the Middle East and to lay to rest some of the misconceptions about travelling in the region. I found a friendly and laid-back country, minimal in its extremism and rich with a cultural heritage stretching back over the centuries to several thousand years BC, truly a cradle of civilisation.
Arriving in Damascus at dusk, as the calls to prayer echoed over the city, I was excited about beginning what was to be an extraordinary journey through some of the most well known ancient biblical sites. I visited the Omayyade Mosque at sunset, mingling with the crowds comfortably enrobed in my a’abyeha which must be worn by all ladies. I was entranced by the soaring ceilings, sparkling chandeliers and majestic back-lit minarets casting shadows of green and pink over the pomegranate sellers at the gates. Walking back through the covered souq of the old city to emerge into the warm night was a wonderfully evocative experience. Silks, brassware, glass and gold stalls shoulder to shoulder with nuts and spices, inlay and mosaics and tiny cafes crammed with locals drinking tea and smoking ARGILEH or water pipes where charcoal burns on tobacco scented with apple or strawberry.
Heading east across the desert, Palmyra rose from the sand; majestic roman columns and triumphal arches, tower tombs and underground vaults. Here one can buy sweet sticky dates and thick dark honey. These are specialities of the region.
I was most excited to see Aleppo in the northern part of the country, some 5 hours drive from Damascus, and Syria’s second city, dominated by the enormous 12th century citadel. They say it was never conquered and I could see why. The solid ramparts and series of ingenious devices to repel invaders. As I wandered through the museum souqs, famous for their oriental atmosphere, a massive storm broke out and lightning cracked all round, illuminating the wet cobblestones and clearing the air which had become quite thick with dust over the previous 24 hours leaving a brown hue over the city.
Driving north-west out of Aleppo up towards the Turkish border, the scenery becomes quite picturesque, rocky hillsides of olive groves and pine trees and from the sanctuary of St Simeon, a ruined church, one can see right down into the Bekaa valley of Lebanon.
Returning to Damascus, I stopped at Hama and saw the great wooden water-wheels which have been used continuously for the last 1300 years and in another spectacular thunderstorm I scaled the impressive bastions of Crac des Chevaliers, the most well preserved crusader castle in the world and a perfect example of a military castle.
On my last day I went south to Bosra, a whole roman city built of basalt which houses the impressive 9000 seat theatre, considered to be the most complete in the world.
My visit over, there was just time for a visit to a traditional hammam or Turkish steam bath in the old city, where I collected my threadbare towel and wooden clogs and spent an unforgettable hour or so being scrubbed and massaged and chatting in broken English to a friendly group of Syrian ladies, and finally leaving with tingling skin and a feeling of utter relaxation.
I was very impressed by my journey through Syria, a friendly and accommodating country with a treasure trove of architectural and cultural sights. To add to one’s experience, old Damasin and Allepian houses are now being converted into stunning boutique hotels; hand painted rooms, rich with mosaics, silks and tapestries and hung with delicate chandeliers, and enchanting beaded lanterns set around a central courtyard beautifully laid out with intricate fountains. These make a memorable addition to your stay.
Returning home to winter in England I cast my thoughts back to my trip and felt privileged to have completed another piece of the jigsaw of countries that link to form the ancient caravanserai corridors of the silk route.
CHILE
ATACAMA, PATAGONIA AND CAPE HORN
APRIL 2008
The cool turquoise waters of the infinity pool danced and sparkled in the sunlight, a rather incongruous sight considering I had just arrived in he world’s most arid desert. The Atacama is an extraordinary region of thermal activity; endless horizons and snow topped volcanoes stretching over 1000kms from the Peruvian border. I was lucky to be staying at the newly opened Tierra Atacama, a series of sublime low mud-walled rooms with outside showers, natural slate floors, 4-poster beds and a scattering of local rugs, close to the desert town of San Pedro de Atacama. What a place to start my two week journey through Chile. The main focus of a stay here is the series of fascinating excursions deep into the heart of the desert. I loved the extraordinary crusted salt flats at Laguna Chaxas where the reflection of Chilean and Andean flamingos melded with the snow capped peaks of long extinct volcanoes. I marvelled at the hissing steam geysers at El Tatio where bubbling craters suddenly erupt, shooting great jets of steam high into the sky. Then to the thermal springs where I sank into body-temperature natural pools, lined with abundant pampas grass, hoping that the thermal properties might work their magic and leave me looking 10 years younger! At night, I sat out by open log fires to enjoy the extraordinary starlit skies and never had the Milky Way seemed so close. I left the earthy red tones of the Atacama with a memory of sunset at Valle de La Luna. Here the endless horizons are broken only by the distinctive silhouettes of volcanic craters. In this unforgettable moonscape the massive sand dunes and rocky ridges afforded unimaginable views of the surrounding peaks as the sun dipped below the horizon to bring night to the desert.
I was soon to discover that this was to be a journey of contrasts. Some 4 hours after leaving Atacama, I found myself in the colourful UNESCO protected city of Valparaiso in central Chile, which came as a great surprise. I wandered up the steep narrow streets underneath majestic colonial houses and took the ancient funicular from hill to port where the solid grey warships of the Chilean Navy dominated the harbour. Here I found delightful boutique hotels, each with terraced gardens and pools overlooking the coast.
A short drive down the coast and I entered the wine region with a perfect climate and picturesque hillsides steeped in vines. Touring the wineries was fascinating, with the obligatory tasting sending you merrily on your way and nights spent on gorgeous family-owned estates in the opulent surroundings of their private ‘casa’ or gues house. I also had plenty of opportunities to indulge my love of riding, be it an early morning trot around the wineries before sun-up, or later further south in the wild remote surroundings of Southern Chile’s Patagonia National Park. Here I enjoyed an early morning gallop rounding up the wild horses on the estancias where I stayed. The homestead’s 90,000 hectares straddles both Argentina and Chile made a memorable base for my few days in the Park. I was lucky with the weather ,only a ‘0% chance of rain, I was told and the excitement was intense as I woke to clear skies and watched the sun rising over the famous Towers of the Torres del Paine Massif.
The remote and barren landscape of the Torres Del Paine National Park reminded me a little of my back yard at home, an almost total absence of trees and the lowland vegetation and course grasses looked not dissimilar to Dartmoor, but there was no comparison to be found with the extraordinary bulk of the Paine Massif whose granite towers dominate the skyline. Time and again I found myself drawn to its immense beauty. Though too short of time to trek, I took a memorable half-day trip across Lago Grey, first by Zodiac and then by a small expedition boat to the head of the glacier, a day of colour, the red of the life-jackets against the cobalt blue of the glacier snout and an ever present backdrop of the grey snow topped cuernos or horns of the Paine towers. I was glad to have brought my binoculars and indulge my love of birdlife; upland geese, the ostrich like rheas, crested caracaras and black-necked swans to name but a few of my sightings.
Knowing my love of wilderness areas, I had expected Torres Del Paine to be the highlight of the trip, but Chile had one final gem to uncover. After a three hour charter flight in a tiny twin prop aircraft which bucked and bounced over the jagged mountains of the Andes, parting clouds revealing the dots of ships far below in the Beagle Channel, I found myself in the Chilean Naval Base of Puerto Williams. There is quite a stern rivalry between the Chileans and Argentineans, as Ushuaia is regularly sold as the southern most town of South America but I’m afraid I had to side with Chile! Puerto Williams is a tiny island, the southern most inhabited landmass unless you count the family who man the lighthouse of Cape Horn. We drove for two hours along the length of the island and saw 2 cars! At the far end we walked down to the jetty into a tranquil bay where a beautiful wooden hulled schooner was at anchor awaiting our arrival. Heading along the Beagle Channel the coastline reminded me somewhat of family holidays in Mull up the west coast of Scotland, except for the occasional glimpses of fur seals and penguins. We had a superb knowledgeable anthropologist on board who had studied for 27 years in the area and who enthralled us with his stories of the indigenous Yamuna people, Indians who were first exposed to the outside world by Charles Darwin. They lived naked year round and existed on a diet of sea-lions and mussels and covered themselves in blubber and seal fat to keep out the cold.
It was a quite extraordinary and fascinating day, topped off with a delicious barbeque on deck. Great hunks of tender Chilean steak and the obligatory glass or two of Chilean red. In the gathering storm clouds and growing dimpsy we dashed down the short airstrip once more and just enough time for a figure of eight fly past and to tip our hats to the Cape Horn lighthouse keeper.
My only regret ? Not time on this trip to head on down to the icy waters of the Antarctic. … There is a legend here – if you kiss the toe of the Indian’s statue in the main square of Punta Arenas, you will return. Let it be so!
LAOS, VIETNAM AND CAMBODIA
A JOURNEY THROUGH INDOCHINA
MAY 2007
More than one hundred saffron-robed monks, strolling serenely down the road in the early dawn silently taking alms from the local people, will be an enduring memory of my magical visit to Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia.
With its magnificent gold leaf and mosaic temples, elegant French colonial buildings, busy night markets and gentle pace, my days in Laos were filled with a colourful cross-section of life. Everywhere you are met by the friendly Lao greeting “Sayabadea” – with the palms pressed together and an open smile. Lao cuisine is an important part of any trip to the country and the visitor is spoilt for choice – delicious spicy curries and flavoursome soups, stuffed bamboo, sticky rice, deep-fried shrimps and fresh mango salads.
All too soon, my sojourn in this simple but charming country was over and a short flight brought me to Hanoi, capital of Vietnam. The uniformed officials at the international airport seemed to promise a sterner atmosphere than the warmth of our Lao friends, but it wasn’t long before Hanoi began to work its charms. I soon found myself on an exhilarating ‘cyclo’ (rickshaw) ride through the narrow streets of the ancient quarter where pavement sellers and old ladies wearing traditional bamboo cone-shaped hats and fruit baskets slung from yokes jostled for position among overflowing kite stalls and speeding mopeds. The mustard-yellow French architecture of the grand Presidential Palace was a striking contrast to Ho Chi Minh’s simple cottage in the grounds. Even the unsmiling guards in Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum cast a spell on our line as we filed into the dark chill interior of his tomb.
Over the days that followed I had many more wonderful experiences, including a memorable day spent on a Chinese fishing junk in Halong Bay, where limestone outcrops provide a glorious backdrop for a feast of fresh king prawns, stuffed crabs and stir-fried calamari, washed down with icy cold Halida, the local beer.
The luxurious overnight Victoria Express train with its mahogany and brass interior was a very comfortable way to arrive in Sapa, a former French hill station in the rugged mountains of northern Vietnam. In the grip of a tremendous thunderstorm, we set out on foot to explore some of the numerous ethnic settlements which scatter the countryside and ended in the colourful night market packed with unusual embroideries and tasty food stalls.
Central Vietnam offered still more delights, including the incredible Imperial tombs of the kings of the last dynasty and the citadel – an extraordinary complex modelled on Beijing’s Forbidden City with moats, lily ponds, serene temples and walls more than 20 metres thick. My favourite day was in the ancient town of Hoi An, cut off from civilisation by destroyed railway lines and a silted river, untouched by war and frozen in time. There I spent many happy hours strolling past colourful stalls festooned with lanterns and lacquerwork and tailors’ shops bursting with beautiful silks, not to mention sitting in one of the many atmospheric restaurants to watch the world go by. Particularly memorable was the morning biking through the lush green Hoi An countryside with its water buffaloes, fish farms, rice being harvested in the paddies, the brilliant blue flash of a kingfisher, ducklings paddling down to the lagoon and an ever-changing view of the locals in their houses simply getting on with daily life.
From there it was just a short air-hop to Ho Chi Minh City in the south of the country. Here I visited the extraordinary Cu Chi tunnels – an underground rabbit-warren of narrow tunnels, opening into meeting rooms, hospitals and smokeless kitchens where the Vietcong lived a hard but long undetected life during the Vietnam War.
My journey would not have been complete without visiting Cambodia. Phnom Penh, its attractive capital, was full of surprises – from the silver tiled floor of the main pagoda in the City Palace to the vibrant riverfront cafes and elegant hotels. Without a doubt though, the prize for the most amazing day of sightseeing goes to the magnificent temples at Angkor. In temperatures of up to 35 degrees centigrade we scaled extensive terraces marvelling at the delicate bas-relief carvings depicting the minutiae of life some 900 years ago, clambering through doorway after doorway into courtyards where the grasping roots of banyan trees coiled themselves like sleeping snakes over broken pillars and leaning arches. The grand finale was a steep climb up 40 or 50 or so near-vertical steps to look out over the vast complex of Angkor Wat and beyond to the Cambodian jungle topped by the setting sun.
It was my last day and I’d go back tomorrow like a shot.
We have an extensive sample itinerary for you to look at – a 23-day tour of Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam with a great variety of five-star hotels to choose from. I specialise in multi-country itineraries and will be delighted to talk to you about combining any one or all of these fascinating and colourful countries, either by air or overland and including one of several memorable boat journeys we can recommend.
ARGENTINA
VISIT TO ESTANCIA LOS POTREROS
FEBRUARY 2007
As we drove up into the rolling green hills of the Sierras Chicas, the sandy track, flanked by pampas grass, dipped and rose crossing tumbling streams and passing through several gates till we reached the boundary of Los Potreros. The shady lawn gave way to an L-shaped whitewashed homestead fronted by an inviting verandah where three snoozing labradors gave an insight into the relaxed atmosphere of the days to come. Los Potreros is speical. Owned and run by the Begg family, fourth generation Anglo Argentines, they have created a magical way to experience life on a traditional Argentine working cattle ranch blending truly spectacular riding, delicious home cooked food and comfortable though not luxurious accommodation with just the right amount of relaxation. Evenings kicked off with informal wine-tasting in the cozy sitting room or sundowners on the verandah amd moved onto candlelight dinner at the large solid dining table. Lunch was generally outside – often traditonal asado or BBQ, great hunks of melt in the mouth beef or marinaded chicken cooked on an open fire.
On our first day we rode down through a picturesque gorge tethering our horses and climbing down a steep ravine which revealed a stunning cascading waterfall where we swam in the cool waters, the falls pummelling our shoulders in a unique massage. On our second day we swapped the gentle exertions of the trail for the thrill of the polo field. After 15 minutes of stick and ball we were deemed ready to commence this ‘sport of kings’ and enjoyed a thrilling few chukkas before turning for home and a glass of wine and delicious lunch. On day 3 we packed our saddle bags and headed off for a 3 day trail ride. Days passed in a glorious succession of picturesque valleys, tumbling streams, forests of silver birch and eucalyptus, rocky hillsides strewn with pink granite and wild flowers reminiscent of Dartmoor or the Peaks except for the wheeling condors – sandy cart-tracks taking us from one stunning scene to another. Tasty picnics of cheese, bread and delicious tomatoes bursting with flavour preceded our overnights. The first in a basic lodge with bunk beds and no hot water and a delightful family who spoke no English. The second a real gem was a gorgeous stone cottage in a valley of its own – a traditional range for cooking and candles for light. We settled down to tea and scones and after a hot shower had a welcome glass of wine and tasty supper. Returning to the estancia for the last couple of nights, I was able to resume my early morning walks on the farm where I enjoyed birdwatching and studying the beautiful meadow flowers.
I would recommend a minimum of 5 nights at Los Potreros – this can be combined with a couple of nights in Buenos Aires. Call us for more details and prices.
OMAN
EXPERIENCE THE WARM HEART OF THE MIDDLE EAST
JUNE 2004
Prompted by an upsurge in requests for travel to the Middle East, last month I visited Oman. I found a fascinating country full of warm hearted and friendly people, and an astonishing range of things to do and see.
I took advantage of the new Oman Air Service from Dubai direct to Salalah in the south of Oman and gateway to Thesigers mysterious Empty Quarter. Here I explored the dramatic coastline and picturesque fishing villages along the coast. The undisputed highlight of any visit to the south is however, a journey deep into the Omani Desert known as the Empty Quarter. Here you will enjoy traditional Bedouin supper cooked by our excellent desert guides and spend a night camping under the stars. This is no tourist trap and you are unlikely to see other visitors.
A short flight over miles of empty desert brought me to the cosmopolitan capital city of Muscat with its abundance of stunning hotels. The first thing that struck me was how clean the city is and how beautifully laid out the roads are, with little traffic.
Having set out to explore Muscat, I donned my headscarf to visit the grand Sultan Quaboos Mosque with its stunning interior, capable of holding 20,000 for prayers at any one time. I wound my way through the bustle of Muttrah Souk, which brims with gold and frankincense, perfumes and leather goods, and wandered past the imposing fortresses guarding the harbour. Later, heading out of Muscat in a comfortable air-conditioned land-cruiser, I was taken along mountain roads to tiny villages hewn out of rock, before dropping down to the coast at Sur to visit the Dhow shipbuilding yards and onto gloriously deserted white sand beaches perfect for a special picnic. I visited the ancient city of Nizwa with its 17th century fort and teeming cattle market before climbing to 3000m to gaze down into the impressive canyon at Jebel Shams. My favourite place was the beautiful oasis of Wadi Ben Khaled, where I strolled through a valley of shady date palms and flowering shrubs to the cool mountain spring pool of the Wadi itself. From here we had a short drive to Wahiba Sands to visit a racing camel farm and on into the desert, where I tried dune bashing for the very first time. My heart was in my mouth as we took an exhilarating plunge down a 45 degree sand slope in our trusty land cruiser while wild camels looked on with quizzical expressions.
The unique thing about Muscat is that for those who do not wish to pack and unpack one can enjoy a whole holiday from one base. Nowhere else can you combine such a variety of adventurous tours by day yet be able to return at night to the same top class hotel, only a stone’s throw from the beach.
In an increasingly difficult travel climate, I recommend Oman as a welcoming, and above all, safe destination. It has constantly warm and sunny weather, superb beaches (many deserted), first-rate hotels and a wealth of culture and adventure. I suggest a minimum of nine days for a combination of adventure and beach stay or 14 days if you want to explore the Empty Quarter in the south of the country or combine your holiday with Dubai.
Oman is best visited from October to March. Oman Air have a service direct to Muscat or use British Airways who fly daily. Emirates Airlines operate via Dubai. Since my return, I have constructed what I believe to be the ideal itinerary based on my experiences so if you would like to see a copy, please do call me for details.
PERU
FOCUS ON PERU
NOVEMBER 2002
My thrilling journey to Peru took me on the path of the Incas to the magical city of Machu Picchu. Nothing had prepared me for the awe-inspiring view of this ancient citadel, which appears to float above cloud forest: an ethereal vision of verdant terraces and massive walls steeped in history. My daytime flight to Lima landed in time for a late supper the same day. Though Lima offers some sights, I found myself impatient to head off in search of more colourful experiences, so next morning I took the hour-long flight to the ancient city of Cusco. At 3360m, I felt the altitude immediately, but nothing was going to stop me wandering the maze of cobbled streets, exploring the spectacular plaza and discovering the rich frescoes and colonnaded arches of Cusco’s 13th century architecture. Note that it’s also worth spending a couple of days in the Sacred Valley, about 1 1/2hrs from Cusco, where you can trek, raft or ride in the surrounding hills before joining the quaint narrow-gauge train up towards Machu Picchu, the highlight of any stay.
Accommodation ranges from simple 2 and 3 star hotels to top-drawer Orient Express Hotels, which own five star properties in Lima, Cusco and at Machu Picchu itself. So what are my personal recommendations. At the bare minimum, spend a night in Lima, two nights each in Cusco and the Sacred Valley and save Machu Picchu to the end. I highly recommend approaching Machu Picchu on the Inca Trail. Why join the hordes on the bus when you can enjoy the view from the unforgettable Sun Gate, where the Incas used to enter the city. If you do not have the time or inclination for the four-day trail, get off the train at KM104 and trek for a day through beautiful cloud forest, passing interesting Inca ruins en route.
JORDAN
JAUNT TO JORDAN DO NOT BE PETRA-fied
JULY 2002
Jordan is safe! That is the message I bring on my recent return from a five day visit to this hugely under-rated Kingdom. The events of September 11th and the more recent troubles in Israel have had an unfortunate effect on Jordan and the country is empty. If you have a free week, I seriously recommend that you consider spending it there.
Here is why:
-only five hours flying time from London
-superb weather year round, blue skies and 20-30 degrees C average
-incredible value for money
-relatively compact yet very varied sightseeing
-Jordanian people are friendly and welcoming
-most people speak english
-excellent roads, little traffic
Not to be missed:
-first class sightseeing including the fabled lost city of Petra – my nomination as a serious contender for the 8th wonder of the world
-top notch diving and snorkelling in the Red Sea
-unique spa treatments at the Dead Sea from £15.00 a treatment
-superb 4WD desert trips into the Wadis and nature reserves
Please call or email me if you are considering a tailored holiday to Jordan. Whether it be a long weekend, a cultural or religious journey or a relaxing holiday with swimming, diving and spa treatments, I will happily plan you a wonderful break.
BOTSWANA
NEWS AND VIEWS FROM AFRICA
JUNE 2001
I have recently returned from a fantastic week in Botswana and thought I would update you on news and views from Africa.
My trip kicked off with a magical visit to Victoria Falls on the Zimbabwean side and ended with an equally breathtaking view of the Falls on the Zambian side. Botswana was a short drive away, over the border to Kasane where a light aircraft was waiting, propellers turning, ready to whisk me south west over the Chobe Reserve to Kings Pool Camp for my first night. Just ten tented rooms sit on stilts overlooking a large hippo pool. Just 24 hours after leaving London, I found myself sipping sundowners on the deck, hippos grunting softly in the background, after a shower under the skies. Pure Magic. The ensuing days brought wonderful game drives with top notch trackers and guides in quality open topped landrovers with tiered seating to ensure the best views from any position. Our tally of sightings included sleek young cheetah warming themselves in the morning sun, majestic herds of elephant playing in the river, grazing Letchwe herds, a young male lion feeding on a warthog and playful lion cubs mewing at their mothers.
Moving down towards the renowned Okavango Delta, I enjoyed my first water experience at Vumbura Camp, taking nimble lightweight boats through the tangle of reeds and flowering water lilies to visit islands inhabited by Pels Fishing Owl and Fish Eagles. The bird life here is astonishing and even if birding is not your main hobby, after a short while you cannot fail to gain an interest.
The final camp was situated deep in the head of the Delta where water based activities are the norm. Jao is a premium camp and makes a very special and luxurious stay. Linked by wooden walkways on stilts, the eight rooms have massive water frontage, wood stripped floors, exotic furniture, beam and thatch ceilings, roll topped baths and an extremely pleasurable shower open to the skies. All this combines to make you feel you never want to leave your room.
All these lodges have little swimming pools, a full programme of activities and an interesting variety of guests means that the bar is humming every night. Luckily most drinks are included in your stay. The game, whether it be birding, wild dog, elephant, cheetah, leopard, lion, buffalo and much much more is all there for you to see and the excellent guides make it a memorable experience.
Travelling between June and September is especially good if you want to see the Delta filled with crystal clear water when boating activities are a magical experience. I rounded off my trip with a couple of nights at the colonial River Club situated on the banks of the Zambesi in Zambia. A mellow end to a perfect week. If this sounds like your ideal holiday do call me and you will find me eager to share its delights with you.
Fiona Brijnath
DIRECTOR
FAR FRONTIERS TRAVEL LTD