501 Places

There are few places as grim as Puerto Natales out of season (ok, not including Blackpool or Skegness out of season… no, think of it, at any time of the year).

Bitterly cold, a blustery wind coming of the icy waters, and heavy rain that tries to turn to snow but doesn’t quite do it. The town is a ghostly place in late April. The majority of visitors to Torres del Paine have passed through here and long gone, further north to sunnier places. Restaurants are empty, tour offices are closing for the winter and the town has the feel of a place that is getting ready for hibernation.

We had arrived from Torres del Paine, one of the few visitors to remain in the town for the night before heading up into Argentina on the morning bus. Our room was poky and we didn’t fancy returning there until it was time to sleep, so after an early dinner we braved the wind and rain and wandered through the streets looking for somewhere warm to while away the evening. It was after a few moments that we came across Patagonia Dulce.

Warm, welcoming, nicely busy and with the most heavenly smells hitting us on stepping through the door, that feeling of landing on your feet has rarely been stronger! We decided instantly to make an evening of it, and ordered the works; hot chocolate to start, chocolate cakes, a sample of their home-made chocolates, some chocolate ice-cream, and of course another hot chocolate to finish the evening before we braved the storm again.

What can I say? Yes, we felt full to bursting afterwards. No, I wouldn’t have been able to look at another chocolate after we’d got up from the table and waddled out of the door. But as an experience in binge eating for a couple of chocoholics it’s hard to beat. And the extra fat comes in handy in protecting from the cold of course!

If you’re ever in Puerto Natales, go check it out for yourself and let me know if you agree. And if you know a contender for the title of the world’s best, add it here (and preferably send me some samples )

(Apr 2007)

I read yet another post today on the subject of travellers’ snobbery. It got me thinking about the age-old traveller vs tourist debate. Which am I? And does it matter?

There are many debates online on this topic (and indeed I have overheard them in many cafes, airports and stations around the world). Almost everyone outside of the mainstream resorts likes to think of themselves as a traveller. Call the backpacker in rural China a tourist, and it is probably the worst insult you could lay on him. Yet I do think, IMHO, that the backpacker can be the most classic tourist of them all, going from major city to ancient monument to next city. And what’s more, not only can a person often be deluded by their smell, hunger and poverty into believing themselves to be a superior travelling being, but a self-proclaimed traveller “going native” is often less welcomed by their native hosts (the ones they are “mixing with”) who would much prefer the $$$$ that comes with the tour bus of Japanese camera-wielding tourists.

I am often a backpacker. I have been one this year. And at times I have smelt; especially on the fifth day without a shower, having camped in the mountains of central Asia with no access to anything other than an ice cold river. Even at that time, I considered myself a tourist. I had come to this part of the world to visit, observe, experience, photograph, and then leave. Whether I did this in tents or in 5 star hotels wouldn’t change the fact that I was touring. I tried to be sensitive towards the local culture, I used my very limited Russian to try and get to know our hosts and was truly amazed by the history and politics of the region. But that didn’t change the fact that I was a tourist.

How would I define being a traveller? For me, and it is only a personal view, I am a traveller when make a journey for a purpose, other than purely visiting cities, beaches, attractions through interest. When I travelled to Uzbekistan I was a tourist in the old Silk Route cities, and a traveller when I went to a small town to hunt around for my grandfather’s grave and learn about his final days. Someone attempting to cycle from Alaska to Argentina is a traveller – their purpose is to reach a destination, a goal, a personal objective.

I don’t know the answer to this question, but I want to stick up for the tourist. Being a tourist is not something to be ashamed of. Being ignorant and intolerant is. But these traits do not always come in the shape of a big camera, a bulging wallet and a 50 seater luxury bus. They can just as easily be contained within a rucksack and a grimy hostel. That is why I disagree so much with those who use the tag tourist to describe anyone who doesn’t do it like they do.

I like comfort when I travel if it’s available, and will indulge in the odd splurge of luxury if the mood takes me and the budget permits. Does that make me a tourist or a traveller? Does it matter? You tell me.

I have to admit to not knowing where Aleppo was a few years back. I had seen it on an airport departure board and wondered which part of the world those passengers would be flying to. So I was delighted when I started to research our trip to Syria to see that it is the country’s second city; almost the same in size as Damascus and nestled in the north, less than 100km from the Turkish border.

We stayed around 3km from the city centre, and after getting ripped off a couple of times by taxi drivers (small amounts but always irritating) we started to walk into the city. And what a great move that was! The walk was little over half an hour, but we passed a true cross-section of Aleppan life. Barbers, mechanics, butchers all going about their business from early morning and still there when we were walking home at 11pm. Cafes vibrant and serving out strong tar-like coffee (for men only). And the chaotic traffic, always hooting of horns yet rarely any signs of aggression from the multitude of drivers.

Aleppo itself is a city of two halves. The old city is a maze of charming lanes that make up the suq, with tradesmen of every possible type inhabiting tiny units amid the damp and humid covered area, broken up occasionally by a simple mosque nestled between the stalls. We found it much more fun than its counterpart in Damascus; better prices, less crowded with foreign visitors, and more intimate. The centrepiece of the old town is the Citadel, which is well worth at least a half day and forms the backdrop of every postcard in the city. Raised high on a natural mound, it certainly creates a stunning landmark.

The new city is quite different. Full of trendy shops and cafes, many historic buildings jostle for attention with old treasures. We passed five beautiful old churches in one street on our way to dinner. Talking of which, the cherry kebabs! We ate in an old town house, of which there are several. Syrian mansions from years gone by, now converted to upscale restaurants and using their beautiful courtyards to house their diners. We had a wide range of dishes, and the cherry kebabs stood out for us. Tender, tasty lamb soaked and served in a cherry juice that was sweet and yet not overpowering. Meat at its best! A great dining experience all round, with very reasonable prices and excellent service.

Aleppo was a fantastic place to explore. Wonderful Syrian hospitality, fascinating, safe, lively, and full of surprises. And if you tire of the city itself there are many great places to visit within an hour’s drive, such as St Simeons Church and the Dead Cities. Now I am happy to know not only where Aleppo is, but also a little of the delights that this remarkable city has to offer.

(Apr 2009)

How do you get around a major city? Do you choose the overground or the subterranean option? In so many places we instinctively dive into the nearest underground tunnel only to emerge half an hour later in a different part of town. After all, if we only have a day to explore a city, surely we should use the time wisely and not get stuck in traffic or spend precious hours walking between two points of interest?

I am a firm believer in the overground option, and will use the underground only when I need to return to my departure point quickly, or when the skies have opened and threatened to drench me. Paris for me is one of the best cities to explore on foot, and I hardly ever use the Metro. I will share a great walk we did last year, that covers so many main attractions and yet stays firmly above ground all the way.

We arrived on an overnight train at Paris Austerlitz, located on the south bank of the Seine in the east of the city. Walking along the south bank, we observed the early morning traders busy setting up their stalls and the cyclists racing along the riverbank on their way to work. Soon we had crossed onto the central island that houses Notre Dame and we were admiring its timeless facade. The streets around Notre Dame are well worth exploring, and we wound our way around these narrow lanes, enjoying the bustle of the morning breakfast run in the little cafes.

Back to the south bank, and we now wandered along at a good pace, fuelled by a coffee and cake as we headed west on the opposite bank to the Louvre. Before long we were at the Invalides, and then the most famous monument of them all, the Eiffel Tower. We lingered here awhile, mainly at the Jardins de Trocadero, where one can enjoy the fantastic views and get the classic photo (if you can escape the attentions of the tacky trinket sellers).

By now we were ready to think about lunch, and we found a nice cafe just a little away from the Trocadero, frequented by office workers breaking from their desks. Soon it was time to move on, and it is a short walk from the Trocadero to the Arc de Triomphe. We even had time to get to the top of the Arc and enjoy the splendid views along the Champs Elysees, in fact all the way along the route we would now follow.

It is a straight line from the Arc to the Louvre, around 3 miles in length and a fascinating walk of contrasts. The Champs Elysees with its swanky (and also its tacky) shops and overpriced cafes, the impressive obelisk at the Place de la Concorde, and then the more tranquil setting of the Jardins des Tuileries, where local families come out to relax and others come to promenade. Soon enough, with now gently aching feet, we were at the Louvre, and enjoying the buzz of the crowds and the sight of the multi-coloured tour group leaders vying to heard buy their group above the din.

From here a gentle walk northwards through the 10th Arrondissement, one of the more captivating neighbourhoods of the city, and we were at Gare du Nord in time for our Eurostar. Around 10 miles in total, with many fascinating sights beyond the main attractions. Yes, we were tired by the end, but it was a satisfying feeling having enjoyed so many experiences (visual and culinary!) I would recommend this for anyone who has a day in Paris, loves to walk and who has already seen the Louvre, been up the Eiffel Tower and who would like to take it easy and see the city at a more relaxed pace. You could see the same sights in a day by using the Metro – but you will miss so many things!

We have been hosting our good friends from California this week. They were with us for three full days, and asked if we could show them Scotland and Wales. “No problem” I said. And then I thought about it, and wondered how the hell it would be possible! Having safely dropped our friends at the airport this morning after our marathon journey, I can say that it CAN be done. It’s a rush, every experience is little more than a taster, but it is possible to show some of the highlights of our beautiful country and let visitors know that there is so much to see and experience here that a longer visit should be planned. Here’s how we did it.

Day 1

We set off from home in St Albans at 7am. Travelling on the dull journey along the M1 and M6 I encouraged my passengers to catch some valuable sleep for the day ahead. First stop was Llangollen, just over the border into Wales and our token Welsh stop. It’s a pretty little town, set in a lush green valley and with a pretty riverside to enjoy, as well as numerous shops selling tacky trickets. We even managed a stroll along the famous canal, and a visit to the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct, recently awarded World Heritage Status and a very impressive sight.

Lunch was taken rather hurriedly in Chester, with a moment to wander along the city walls and the high street, a chance to admire a few of the great buildings Chester has to offer, and a sample of a great local delicacy – the deep fried Mars Bar! (received the thumbs up all round)

Then on to Liverpool, and after a quick glance around the Albert Docks we jumped on the Magical Mystery Tour bus for a 2 hour tour around the sites associated with the Beatles. It was a lot of fun, even for us having lived close to Liverpool for many years and never having taken the tour.

A short walk through the city, and then back in the car for a drive north to the Lake District, and our first night’s rest at the Old Dungeon Ghyll, high up at the foot of the Langdale Pikes. It’s a spectacular setting, and well worth the extra miles even for the weary driver. A beer and a steak and ale pie soon soothed the aches and pains from the day in the driver’s seat.

Day 2

An early start for an hour’s hike before breakfast and a prompt departure back to the main roads in Ambleside. Our path took us north along the shores of Ullswater, and with a stop in Gretna Green to refresh and learn the history of this infamous border town, we motored on to lunch in Edinburgh.

Edinburgh of course deserves a longer visit, but with our tight itinerary we were able to admire the churches and historic buildings of the Royal Mile briefly before heading for the castle and spending a little over an hour looking around the main buildings in this lofty old fortress/palace.

Then it was onwards again, just ahead of the rush hour and out to Falkirk to see the new attraction in Scotland, the Falkirk Wheel. This mechanical marvel carries canal boats between two canals seperated vertically by around 40 metres. We saw two rotations of the wheel, and our friends were quite taken by this clever solution to an old problem.

From Falkirk it was a short and pleasant drive into the Campsie Fells for a stay in Culcreuch Castle; a remote and romantic setting, popular with couples from all over the world looking for that Scottish Castle wedding.

Day 3

This was both a punishing and rewarding day. After a full Scottish breakfast, it was 4 hours of almost constant driving, through the Highlands and along Loch Ness to Inverness. The stunning scenery kept everyone awake and with photo stops we took in much of the spectacular sights that Scotland is so famous for.

A short lunch in Inverness and a stroll along the river, and then the hire car was dropped at the airport, we hopped onto the Easyjet flight back to Luton and we were home before 6pm.

Reflections

It is a tough tour (for the driver yes, but for the passengers too). There was no time to kick off your shoes and relax. However, I never thought I would be able to show so much of our country to visitors, and the level of appreciation and the sense of wonder at the riches of the UK made it all worthwhile. Our friends were amazed that there was so much to Britain. Visit Britain take note; even travel hardened Americans who have been to the UK before didn’t expect that there was much to see north of London.

I don’t necessarily subscribe to breakneck visits at this pace, but this week has challenged my assumptions. If such a trip can show visitors just how diverse, how beautiful, how friendly and how quirky the UK really is, then taster tours like this can be a great way to sell Britain.

And for us there was a lesson that I will consider in our future travels. Finding good food, the off-beat sight or attraction, and the unusual places to stay is like finding a needle in a haystack without a local native to show you around. Our friends left with the myth of awful British food destroyed, thanks to the many places we showed them; places that we had already found at least once before and could recommend. A little local knowledge can go a very long way in making a trip memorable.