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Le Gray, Beirut

Thu, 1 Apr 2010 17:48:00 +0100

Is this really Beirut’s moment of renaissance? Somehow the wonderful new Le Gray seems to stand for more than just another new hotel development. Downtown Beirut now has a world class luxury venue which is attracting the smart and successful (and a few hangers-on like me) from all over Europe. It must have cost Campbell Gray and his backers a small mint to build this place, in the middle of a global recession.

Le Gray is surrounded by dozens of other new upmarket developments - mainly shops and apartment blocks - which leads one to think that big investors, and the rich Lebanese diaspora, have decided this is the time to place their bets on Beirut. The past is still all around, of course, in the shape of massive paintings of various local pols who have been assassinated recently. It’s still hard to believe that parts of this city were bombed to hell as recently as four years ago. But more of that in my next post.

BMI is the Biz

A few years ago, when all in the world seemed sunny, plucky old British Midland bought an outfit called British Mediterranean which flew to little-served Middle East, African and near-Asia cities. If you wanted to get to Almaty right away, British Med was just the ticket. This turned out to be a smart move, as oil and gas exploration came on-stream in Khazakstan and the rest of the Caucuses, and previously closed ME countries - Syria and Iran - began opening up to tourists. So now, BMI is the natural choice for the traveller who wants to spend four or five hours on a plane to venture beyond Europe’s borders - even for a long weekend. Given that few other carriers go to these places, BMI could have chosen to offer up a standard version of the crappy European business class you get from everyone - except an hour or two longer. But they haven’t done that. As we have discovered on trips to Cairo and now Beirut, this is an excellent service. The seats are wide, the legroom plentiful even for six-footers, and the menu, while not exactly Michelin inspired, is very tasty (below).

On top of that, you get the familiar, homely service from the BMI staff, which, as I’ve said before, is like being looked after by auntie!

Mr Gray invites..

Le Gray is the brainchild of the guy who owns One Aldwych in London, a small stylish hotel which has always been good to me! I toasted the start of 2010 at an excellent dinner in the Indigo restaurant upstairs. But Mr Gray has really outdone himself with his Beirut creation, which has already won so much acclaim around the world.

After passing into the small hotel lobby, the first thing you notice is the smart uniforms of the staff. They are all dressed in sharply cut grey suits with pinkish shirts, an excellent combination which I am now - somewhat ridiculously - copying at work.

Blue Bar

Don’t let that small lobby deceive you. Stepping into the glass elevator, you travel up a wide circular atrium which goes all the way to the uber-cool Bar Sixty Three (above), a kind of blue heaven which looks out on downtown Beirut from all sides, with cocktails to match (below).

Stylish Suite

We had executive suites at Le Gray, which has everything you’d expect of a contemporary hotel like this. Probably the best feature was the very long terrace (below), which was perfect for a leisurely breakfast.

Indigo on the Roof
Sticklers for brand consistency will love the fact that Mr Gray gives the same names to the restaurants in his different hotels. So there is also an Indigo restaurant in Le Gray Beirut, as there is in London. But the view is a little better. All you can see while dining at One Aldwych is the downstairs bar packed with boozed-up locals. In Beirut, Indigo is on the roof (hence the brand variation ‘Indigo on the Roof’), and you can see all across the city and the sea beyond as you tuck into some delicious local fish and white wine.

Infinity Pool
If you had to pick one feature which really makes this hotel, it’s the rooftop Pool Lounge where you can swim and laze around under the Beirut sun - all day if you want. But Beirut is far too exciting a city for that, as I will write about in my next post.

The fun in this town really gets going as the sun goes down.

The verdict
It’s been reported that a host of other luxury brands, including the Kempinski and the Grand Hyatt will soon be opening in Beirut (and the Four Seasons is already there). They will have to invest some to beat Le Gray, and the Scottish guy behind it all deserves huge credit for spotting the infinite new possibilities which now await Beirut, if they can keep the guns and bombs packed away.

Our ratings for BMI Business
1-5 stars

Cabin & Entertainment
***
On-board cuisine
***
Service/staff
*****
Lounge facilities
*****

Our ratings for Le Gray
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Dining & Entertainment
****
Service/staff
****
Location
*****

For more pictures of BMI and Le Gray, click here.

Lufthansa First Class, London to Seoul

Sat, 2 Jan 2010 02:15:17 +0000

Ah Germany, Germany. Is there any country which generates such a complicated range of opinions? The great spy writer John le Carre has probably come closest to capturing the whole kaleidoscope of emotions felt by those who know Germany well. Check out the new range of dramatisations of his George Smiley series from the BBC, starting with this superb version of ‘The Spy Who Came in from the Cold’.

German brand

When you think Lufthansa, you think Germany. In marketing terms, it’s impossible to divorce ‘the brand’ from the country. This is generally true. In an era when other brands strive to be truly global and neutral, airlines - the first international brands - remain quaintly local and rooted in their country of origin. And they play on it. Think American Airlines ‘ you’re flyin’ American, right?’, or Qantas ‘Spirit of Australia’. Sometimes an airline can even define a country brand - who doesn’t love ‘Singapore girl’? Even Virgin Atlantic is all about a quirky Union Jack identity.

What’s great to see is that Lufthansa is prepared to experiment by moving away from the traditional, stuffy idea of the German brand to the more eccentric and fun aspects of the nation - hence the duck from the Munich lounge (above) is dressed like an extra from the World Cup team.

British Midland Lufthansa?

Interestingly, Lufthansa now finds itself with an anomaly in its family of airline brands which it doesn’t know quite what to do with: BMI. This cottage industry airline has been much beloved by those of us who have enjoyed the generosity of its Diamond Club and the cosy provinciality of its staff. I could best describe its brand as ‘travelling with your favourite auntie’. That was all just fine before the credit crunch, when it was still owned and managed by its original founders. But there was a bomb waiting to go off: BMI chairman Sir Michael Bishop had agreed to sell his majority shares to Lufthansa when the economic skies looked crystal clear, then had to go to court to force them to go through with the deal - as the roof fell in on our global financial system. It’s believed Lufthansa tried to offload it immediately. Apart from a few comical and half-hearted remarks by Captain Willie Walsh, there were no takers. Even the sainted Beard of Virgin fame was strapped for cash in 2009.

So the Germans decided to soldier on, and try to make some sense of their unwanted new toy. After a while, you could see some cogs in the corporate brain starting to whirr. Someone clearly woke up to the fact that BMI had a low-cost operations model which was actually much less regulated and unionised than Lufthansa, Austrian or Swiss. Hurrah! Suddenly we found ourselves on BMI flights when travelling to Austrian or Lufthansa locations (all flights from London to Berlin now seem to be BMI). The head office wonks probably also realised that the previous management had done a nice job in securing routes for places with high growth potential, such as the Middle East and other oil locations. And they have a very nice new lounge at the generally hellish Heathrow T1.

It will be fascinating to watch what Lufthansa does now with BMI, and whether they can build a proper British brand in the German family. I hope they do.

For the moment, Lufthansa’s old crew is clinging on to the London-Munch route, which would probably be a step too far for the powerful German airline unions (who are still considerably less annoying than their British equivalents).

Eastward Bound

So it’s a Lufthansa flight that we find ourselves aboard on the afternoon of January 2010, on the way to Munich and our First Class flight to Seoul, South Korea. So why First Class, and why Seoul, a northern Asian City which is ruddy freezing at the best of times in January and very far away? Well, we found ourselves with a large excess of generous BMI Diamond Club miles and wanted to spend them on some swanky travel which would be very hard to experience either with cash or another airline club (by contrast, Lufthansa’s ‘Miles & More’ is far meaner). And why Seoul? After the dreadful year of 2009, I think we we were sick of Europe, which was starting to feel like a badly failing part of the world. We needed an injection of Asian energy, high technology, service, style and fun. And that’s Seoul - but more about the Korean capital in the next post.

To understand what I mean about Europe, consider our business class flight from London to Munich. It was perfunctory at best, with plastic food, cramped seats and disinterested service. But Lufthansa isn’t alone in this. All European flights are terrible, some are just more terrible than others. I’ll give the old Lufthansa Munich crew something: at least they are still polite and respectful to passengers requests, unlike the disgruntled staff of some airlines closer to home, who look as if they want to stab you in the chest when you ask for an extra wet towel.

Willkommen in München

But landing at Munich, everything changes. The Lufthansa bosses have clearly decided that Asia is the future, and anyone travelling First Class to one of its major cities has to be treated like a minor Deity. We stepped off the London flight to be greeted by the driver of a gleaming black Mercedes, who transported us in considerable style past the usual immigration nonsense and bureaucracy straight to the Lufthansa First Class Lounge.

One of the worst fallacies of the absurd Blair years (read Andrew Rawnsley for a jaw-dropping account) was that we had somehow over taken Germany (and France for that matter) in standards of living. You only have to spend five minutes in one of their many shiny airports to realise this is not the case. Germany has spent twenty years paying for the hell of reconstructing the East, and has emerged from that stronger and more prosperous than us. Munich Airport is among the shiniest, and you don’t have to be travelling at the front of the bus to enjoy its spacious modern facilities, wide range of cafes and restaurants and helpful staff. There is a reason it has been voted ‘Europe’s Airport of the Year, 2010’.

First Class Lounge

But back to that First Class lounge. I always thought it would be hard to beat Virgin’s incomparable Club House at Heathrow. Lufthansa Munich doesn’t quite do that. My favourite experience remains having a three-hour Virgin breakfast one Sunday on the way to New York, eggs benedict and the Weekend FT. But this one comes pretty close. Like Virgin, you get a cooked breakfast (or lunch, dinner) in the restaurant.

The shower facilities also give Baron Branson something to think about, as they have jacuzzis as well as showers (I didn’t indulge). Where they have the edge is in the standard of service, as even Virgin staff suffer now and again from the British ‘whatever’ attitude when you ask them for something. I’ve always thought German standards of service overall are the best in Europe, and this experience reinforces that view. Finally, which other airline lounge gives guests their own special rubber duck!

On board

Then it was time to fly to for Seoul. In a way, what I am about to write can be considered a period piece, as Lufthansa has now unveiled a complete revamp of its First Class service for its new fleet of A380s. But in a crazy way, unveiling a super-swanky A380 is easy! Offering outstanding service on an A340-300 with several years of hard graft under its wings is much harder.

Glorious Food

Our A340-300 certainly passed the test. Let’s start with my favourite: the food. It was all glorious, and our pictures probably speak for themselves. I went for as many Asian options as I could, and had my introduction to the legendary Korean vegetable dish: kimchi (below).

Since we flew, Lufthansa has enhanced its Asian cuisine offer by hiring noted Korean chef Hyo Nam Park to offer ‘classical French cuisine with an Asian touch’. According to the Korea Times:

“Park presents classical French cuisine such as almond jelly topped with caviar goose liver parfait, lobster lasagna in a saffron cappuccino sauce, medallion of veal and potato pyramid, ice cold souffle with lemon sherbet and chocolate tahini cream. He added subtle Asian flavors to French cuisine and created his own style of innovative and inspiring dishes.”

Moves like this are clear signs that Lufthansa is thinking about its Asian routes as a service which requires special attention. That’s smart thinking about the future which most other European airlines are not emulating.

High Amenity

As good as the food was, the best of Lufthansa First Class is to be found in the accessories, which have become notably less impressive on most airlines in recent years. As a result of our two flights, I am now the proud owner of two Lufthansa Rimowa amenity kits (above) - which seem to sell for ridiculous prices on eBay, and one pair of specially-designed Van Laak pyjamas - the most stylish you’ll find anywhere at 30,000 feet.

The Verdict

The Lufthansa cabin crew were terrific, and we landed at the super hi-tech Seoul Incheon airport feeling fresher than we did leaving London.

Sadly, this will probably be the last time we can ever travel First Class on Lufthansa to Asia or anywhere else long haul. Someone has leaked the fact that the Germans are going to scrap the Diamond Club next year and replace it with ‘Miles & More’, meaning you’d have to fly virtually every second day or the year to earn a Gold Card and access to the fabulous facilities on offer at Munich and the other German airports.

How we got there
We travelled on LH718 from Munich to Seoul, January 2, 2010, and LH719 from Seoul to Munich, January 10, 2010

Our ratings for Lufthansa First Class
1-5 stars

Cabin & Entertainment
****
On-board cuisine
****
Service/staff
*****
Lounge facilities
*****

For more pictures of our Lufthansa flights, click here.

Christmas in Budapest

Thu, 24 Dec 2009 23:11:07 +0000

How do you celebrate the end of the worst year anyone can remember? We’ll look back on 2009 as the time when the world economy seemed in danger of total collapse. There can’t be many people on the planet who have escaped the effects of this financial devastation. Beyond the economics, the worst thing about 2009 was just the sheer psychological weirdness of not knowing what was going to happen next. Although we both kept our jobs and went to so many beautiful places in the world, I never want to see another year like this one.

Lounge blues

Just in case we were in any doubt, our plans for toasting the end of 2009 were almost wrecked when British Airways cabin crew decided they were going on strike. We took the calculated decision that there was very little chance of the action being called off, so we rebooked immediately on Malev, the Hungarian national airline, which cost us several hundred pounds more. The irony is that we ended up in the BA lounge at Gatwick (above), as they codeshare with Malev. This picture flatters what is a fairly miserable place, with decor that looks about twenty years out of date.

Malev

Things didn’t improve much when we boarded the Business Class cabin on Malev. When is someone going to wake up to the idea that a decent BC service is possible on European flights? What we get instead are endless little cuts in the standards of service that leave you wondering what you are paying for, beyond the ability to get off as quickly as possible. The Malev flight was only enlivened by the presence of two air stewards who looked like extras from a Hammer Dracula movie from 1971.

Corinthia

I cheered up when we got to the Corinthia, a grand old hotel in the middle of Budapest that’s been recently restored as part of a small chain of European luxury hotels. We headed straight for the bar to sample Hungary’s finest export: Tokai, the sweet, sweet wine that’s the closest you’ll ever get to alcoholic honey.

The suite (below) was vast, with one of my very favourite hotel features: two bathrooms. It was only spoiled by the presence of a TV set which looked like it had been produced before the fall of the Iron Curtain. And no iPod speakers!

Crappy TVs aside, we enjoyed the Corinthia. The Royal Spa, which dates from 1886, is probably its best feature. Try to avoid peak times. It can get a little crowded in there, and some people can get ugly when they are competing for the last space in the jacuzzi!

Gundel

The point of coming to Budapest was to have Christmas lunch somewhere unusual and special. So we chose the Gundel restaurant, another venerable institution on the edge of the city park. We were not disappointed. Gundel recreates the atmosphere of dining in Budapest in its late Victorian golden era, with modern turns on Magyar classics. Make sure you try the ‘incomparable’ Hungarian goose liver. I was extremely greedy and had the famous ‘four livers’ dish:

“Quartette of Goose Livers: Goose Liver Pâté stuffed with Golden Raisins, Goose Liver in its fat, smoked Goose Liver and grilled Goose Liver with Fig Mille Feuille.”

Anyone for seconds?

But that wasn’t the highlight of the Gundel. Along with the goose liver, and this delicious chocolate souffle with vanilla ice cream (above), we had a bottle of one of their finest Tokai’s - Essencia. This description from the Royal Tokai website says it all:

Essencia is the richest and rarest of all Hungarian Tokaji wines. It is the truest expression of terroir known to man. Typically, this free run juice takes 6 to 8 years to complete its fermentation to less than 3% alcohol. Essencia can reach 85% residual sugar. Essencia wine is legendary.

We were a long way from that BA lounge at Gatwick.

Flaneur

Budapest is a great city for walking around, even though it was perishingly cold when we were there. You can spend days as a ‘flaneur’ strolling through along the wide avenues of Pest, heading for the bridge (above) which leads to the old city of Buda and the imperial castle at the top of the hill (below).

City dining

It doesn’t need an afternoon at the Gundel to eat well in Budapest. We had good experiences in a handful of city eateries, such as Menza (above), round the corner from Corinthia, which is packed most nights with Budapest’s young and trendy crowd.

The Verdict

So we entered the last few days of 2009 feeling much better than we did at the start. Budapest is a city which has a lot going for it, perfect for exploring over a two or three-day visit.

How we got there
We travelled on Malev Airlines from London Gatwick to Budapest

Our ratings for Budapest
1-5 stars

Corinthia
***
Malev
**
Budapest
***

Click here for more hi-res pictures from Budapest

Xudum Delta Lodge

Sun, 20 Sep 2009 15:49:46 +0100

THE last time we had an African adventure, in Tanzania two years ago, we stayed at a couple of fabulous lodges and one ‘under canvas’ camp from the Conservation Corporation (CC) Africa.

Now we are in Botswana as guests of the same organisation, which has magically rebranded as ‘&Beyond’. Most of our fellow guests are also on their second, third or even fourth trip with this South African-based company; and everyone agrees that the name change is a bad move.

We loved - and I mean really loved - the CC Africa brand after two magical experiences in South Africa and Tanzania. For us, this name stood for a combination of outstanding luxury travel and African adventure. The good news is that these qualities have survived the name change (if anything, getting better), but I can’t quite bring myself to say that I LOVE ‘&Beyond’!

Arrival

Xudum lies to the southeast of the Moremi Wildlife Reserve, more or less in the middle of the Okavango Delta. To get there, we took a flight from Maun International in a beaten-up Cessna, courtesy of an elderly pilot who flew his plane in a way which reminded me of my grandfather at the wheel of his ancient Mini. What a view he gave us as we flew over one of the most spectacular landscapes on the planet, before landing with the slightest of bumps on a tiny, gravel airstrip.

This airstrip was about an hour’s drive by jeep from Xudum, as the one much closer had been closed due to unusually heavy rains and flooding. Apparently, 2009 saw one of the greatest of the ‘great floods’ which occur every year in the Okavango. It gets one thinking about the effects of climate change on the unique geography of the Delta. I found an interesting article on this subject here.

The jeep stopped at a mudbank where we climbed into a small motor boat that sped us through the Delta to the Xudum Lodge.

Xudum Lodge

The Xudum Lodge is another of those magical places which &Beyond has managed to create across southern Africa. There are no restrictions at all on the local wildlife. Literally anything can come and go as you sit on the terrace (above) watching the Delta slowly roll by, or dine at night under the big African sky. That’s a big part of the magic. The other part is the superb staff who literally do go ‘beyond’ the call of duty to make your stay special. At Xudum, the staff were mainly local Batswana folks, I’m pleased to say, who combined complete professionalism with a great sense of fun.

Home from home

A very short walk behind the main Xudum building was our own lodge (above), where we stayed for five glorious nights. Again, it is completely open. And unlike the terrace and dining area, it is perfectly possible for some big wildlife to come wandering by. One morning, we woke up to the sound of a grumpy-sounding elephant tearing some branches a few feet away. Other people have seen leopards outside their front door. But much more troublesome are the monkeys who hang out in the trees above the buildings, making a tremendous racket, and who are bold enough to venture right into your bedroom if they smell something remotely edible.

The reality is that guests are very safe at Xudum, and you have plenty of time to relax in the gorgeous facilities like this enormous bath (above) or the private plunge pool.

On the water

What makes the Okavango unique as a safari experience is climbing into one of these tiny mokoros (canoes - above) and sailing silently through the reeds to observe the amazing bird life all around (as you can see at the top of this story). Hippos love to wallow in these waters as the hot sun reaches its peak over the Okavango. Much of the time they are just visible by their ears, which means you need to be with rangers - like ours - who know the waters like the backs of their hands, and who can steer the mokoro precisely (and impressively) balancing on the edge by the balls of their feet, with their heels suspended over the water (below).

The Okavango is, especially, a bird lover’s paradise. I found a great site which details all of the known species here.

We Gotta Problem?

If you have been to the &Beyond private game reserves, you have probably been spoiled by the abundance of big cats and other large wildlife. Our experience of the Okavango wasn’t like that. On several mornings, we drove around for hours without seeing much at all. But that doesn’t detract from the experience, because you are soaking in all of the colours and smells of a unique part of the world. It also helps when you have rangers who can explain so much about the Delta as you drive - and cook a wonderful breakfast into the bargain!

We did see quite large herds of elephants - Botswana has many thousands of them - some of whom were not too pleased to see us (above). The protective maternal instinct of the female elephant is one of the most powerful forces in the animal world - just don’t get too close!

After much searching, we did come across one very lazy male lion, who clearly wasn’t in the mood for visitors that day (above).

What a send-off

On our last night in Xudum, we drove out on a late night safari with our two rangers, Dishu and William (above), and went further and further into the darkness of the Delta. Switching the lights off and just sitting there in the jeep, while the Okavango breathes all around, is an amazing experience. But there was more to come. We drove a little further, to the partially flooded Xudum airstrip, to discover that the entire &Beyond staff had set up a late-night bar for us! We partied with the lads for a couple of hours, knocking back gin & tonics and goodness knows what else, until it was time, very sadly, to head back and prepare for our departure.

The verdict

I would never pick a favourite from my &Beyond experiences, but Xudum is a very special place indeed. And the Batswana people are very special people. What made Xudum unforgettable was the best staff I have ever encountered on any holiday.

How we got there
We travelled on Air Botswana to Maun, then by private plane to Xudum.

Our ratings for Xudum Delta Lodge
1-5 stars

The Lodge
*****
The Staff
*****
The Experience
*****

Click here and here for more hi-res pictures from Xudum Delta Lodge

African Journeys

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 11:32:26 +0100

POOR old BMI. What’s going to happen now that it’s fallen completely into the clutches of Lufthansa? The Germans don’t appear to have much enthusiasm for their new British brand, to put it mildly. Putting all sentimentality aside, it would be a great shame if BMI disappeared. Beyond the generous benefits of the Diamond Club, the old BMI management’s recent investments have shown the potential (and crying need) for a strong UK airline brand that’s going to offer higher quality service on international routes. It’s just too bad they have made those pricey decisions in the face of the worst global recession for a century!

BMI Lounge, Heathrow

Take the new BMI international lounge at Heathrow T1 (above). It’s miles better than the (very average) Star Alliance lounge and most of the rest on offer at T1. This roomy and modern facility has the lot: a cosy lounge, quiet office space, a slumber room, showers, a cafe serving everything from hot soup to ice cream, and your very own English ‘local’ (below).

We like this lounge so much that we used it for our trip to Jo’Burg on South African, despite the best efforts of the BMI staff to direct us back to the Star Alliance lounge (on the basis that there would be no flight calls).

We spent a delightful couple of hours in the lounge sampling some fine Kiwi wines and spoiling our appetites with hot snacks. It’s too sad to think that the whole thing might be ripped up and thrown in the dumpster with the rest of the BMI brand before too long.

New SAA

Another carrier which has clearly been investing in the product is South African. It has been almost five years since I last set foot on a fairly rundown 747 for the trip to Jo’burg. What a difference this time stepping onto the business class cabin of this pristine A340 600. With flat bed seats, the latest interactive entertainment systems and a great menu (below), South African looks in pretty good shape for its big moment in the global spotlight: the 2010 World Cup.

Appetiser (above) and main course (below)

With service like this, the hours before we landed at Johannesburg International (below) just melted away.

Air Botswana

I mentioned in another post that the ATR is one of my least favourite small planes: too small to offer any kind of high quality flying experience, but too big to provide the same kind of fun you have have in a tiny Otter, for example.

Imagine my delight, therefore, to discover that Air Botswana was running these French twin tubs to Maun, gateway to the Okavango Delta. This was a journey of TWO HOURS.

Thankfully, the cheerful Air Botswana staff made the experience as bearable as possible. They served up this snack box (below), brought to us courtesy of ‘BeMOBILE - the only network that offers the best calling value in town’. Please remember that next time you find yourself in Botswana with a choice of mobile networks.

Air Namibia
After a wonderful week in the Okavango, we landed back in Maun on our way to the Namibian capital, Windhoek. Then I discovered there is a worse plane to spend two hours on - the Beechcraft 1900.

This is an aircraft which packs about 20 passengers into a space smaller than an average pub toilet - without the loos! I’d love to show you some pictures, but there wasn’t enough room to take the camera out.

Although the flight itself was relatively smooth, I can’t recall a time when I was happier to hit tarmac.

Again, full marks to the Air Namibia pilots for getting us there as efficiently and safely as possible.

Namib Desert Landings

OK, I’m saving the best for last. After a night in Windhoek, we headed to the capital’s domestic airport, Eros, for the hour-long flight to Sossusvlei Desert Lodge.

On a crystal clear morning, we took off and headed for the Namib Desert on what was (probably) the most stunning flight I’ve ever had. Starting out from Windhoek over Namibia’s Central Plateau, you are soon over the dramatic rocky peaks of the ‘Escarpment’, a mountain wall of up to 2,000 metres.

Then the rocks give way to the stunning sands and dunes of the Namib Desert, one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Scenic Air

Congratulations to Scenic Air for providing such a marvellous experience, with professional young pilots who also seemed highly experienced.

One word of warning: make sure you fly in the morning. As the air heats up during the day, extreme gusts of wind occur over the mountains which can toss a Cessna around - somewhat uncomfortably!

Back to SAA

Speaking of high winds, our SAA pilot on the way back from Windhoek to Jo’Burg gave us a typically blunt assessment of flying conditions as we stepped on board: it was going to be rough!

Much to our relief (and surprise), the journey turned out to be uneventful, and we enjoyed the Business Class service all the way back to London, which included tasty dishes like the lamb kebab and chicken (below).

The Verdict

Everyone should fly over the Namib Desert in a little Cessna once in their lives!

Flights Reviewed

South African Airways SA235, London Heathrow to Jo’Burg (A340-600)
Air Botswana BP212, Jo’Burg to Maun (ATR 72)
Air Namibia SW139, Maun to Windhoek
South African Airways SA75, Windhoek to Jo’Burn (B737800)
Scenic Air Charter, Windhoek to Sossusvlei (Cessna C210)

InterContinental Resort & Thalasso Spa

Mon, 30 Mar 2009 18:52:37 +0100

IT’S one of those oddities of the post-colonial era that France still controls a vast portion of the Pacific Ocean covering 130 paradise-like islands - French Polynesia. Although it’s a little strange in this day and age, presumably the arrangement has some benefits for the locals. Tourism is probably one of them. When we visited, French holidaymakers were there in large numbers, having found an idyllic spot as far away from home as it is possible to be, where the national anthem is ‘La Marseillaise’ and the Franc is still the legal currency (ten years after France dumped it). Japanese and American visitors were also numerous. Brits and Germans were almost nowhere to be seen.

We flew from Auckland to Papeete with our old friends, Air New Zealand. It’s a journey of around five hours, which is an easy ride in the company of ANZ, especially after they had already taken us from London to Hong Kong to Auckland. We were whisked straight to our hotel, the InterContinental Papeete, and didn’t get to see much of the Tahitian capital. This hotel is urgently in need of a revamp. The decor in the main building and restaurant looks like it belongs to the era of flared trousers. There is, however, a first rate French restaurant, if you care to walk to the far end of the hotel complex. It’s called Le Lotus, which has ‘an association’ with the 3-Michelin starred L’Auberge de l’Ill in France.

Air Tahiti

After a very short stay, we were back at Papeete airport in no time for our flight to Bora Bora, on an Air Tahiti ATR 72-500 (above). The national airline only has 12 planes which have to be able to land on 47 different islands and atolls across an area the size of Europe. Air Tahiti cheerfully devotes a whole page on its website to the issue of how difficult it can be to take off and land in some of these places:

In the atoll of Fakarava a lighthouse, disused but classified as a historical monument is placed right in line with the runway, to Cécile Ambrois’ regret as planes are hindered in their approach, a situation which imposes limits on passengers and freight allowed on board.

Thanks for sharing, Cecile!

Avoiding Fakarava, we set off for Bora Bora in the company of a bright-eyed Air Tahiti crew and a full load of passengers. Just a word on the ATR: it’s one of my least favourite aircraft. Along with the Beechcraft, it’s too big to have a fun turbo prop experience, but too small to offer any kind of comfort. This view was confirmed recently when I had to spend TWO HOURS on one of those things. More on that in later posts.

Thalasso Spa?

Just what the hell is a ‘Thalasso Spa’ anyway? After a full week of staying in one, I’m none the wiser. But spending any time inside the ‘Spa’ bit of the InterContinental Resort etc, is a complete waste of time in this spectacular island paradise.

After being whisked by motor boat to the Resort, we soon found ourselves in our water villa (above), with a glorious view of Mount Otemanu (below).

Although Bora Bora was hot and sunny most of the time, the weather could turn violent quite quickly. In this picture, the clouds are clearing following a late afternoon thunderstorm, which happened on most of the days we were there. Our favourite part of the day was late at night, when the skies cleared and we could lie out on the lower deck with a glass of champagne and pick out the southern constellations above.

The experience

These chairs are empty because we spent almost no time in them! Who wants to be stuck on deck when you can be out swimming in the lagoon?

Once you’ve had enough of that, the Resort has plenty to keep guests occupied (I don’t want to use the word ‘activities’ because it sounds like Butlins or something). Here are our highlights:

Swimming with the sharks, stingrays and killer eels.
In the hands of three experienced divers, we headed out in a little boat to the deeper waters on the edge of the lagoon. First stop was to jump in the water with a bunch of black-tipped sharks (about a metre long) - to feed them! As we floated behind a single, flimsy rope, our divers handed out some bloody snacks to their sharp-toothed friends. The theory, of course, is that the sharks are far too interested in those to bother taking a bite out of an unappetising human, but that wasn’t comfort enough for one of our small party, who screamed and shot - arms flailing - back to the boat. The second part of the journey was probably riskier. We headed out to the coral where the Moray eels lived. As we dived into the deep water, these ten-foot monsters were asleep in the rock, but not for long as our divers bravely (recklessly) prodded them on the head and tried to tempt them out for a snack. Let me tell you: there is nothing uglier than the sight of a Moray eel’s wide open mouth. The final part of the trip was to much shallower waters, where the stingrays were gathered. All my silly fears about these delightful creatures evaporated as they swam around us and allowed themselves to be patted on the head (at least I think it was the head).

Jet skiing
It’s not exactly environmentally-friendly to go tearing around a Pacific island lagoon in a high-powered, gas-guzzling jet ski, but boy is it fun! I felt like some kind of James Bond villain as we followed our instructor at high speed all the way round InterContinental’s island.

Fine Dining

Le Bubbles Bar (above) was the perfect place for post-lagoon cocktails. But for truly fine dining, we had to hop on another boat.

Villa Mahana

The main island of Bora Bora has one outstanding restaurant. It’s called Villa Mahana (above), a short drive from the jetty, where you can find cuisine from the top tables of France, using the best local fish and other ingredients. Feast on this extract from the menu:

Pêche Du Jour Grillée Au Naturel, Jus De Citron
Petit Légume De Saison Au Pistou
Grilled Catch of the day (fileted and de-boned), Steamed Vegetables with Pesto
*****
Mahi Mahi En Croute De Curry Et Banane
Douce Purée De Pomme De Terre, Sauce Mangue
Mahi Mahi in banana curry crust, mashed sweet potatoes, mango sauce
*****
Risoto Cremeux De Langouste Et Gambas
Copeaux De Vieux Parmesan
Lobster and Prawns Risotto with Mascarpone Cream and Old Parmesan Cheese

The Verdict

Look at this view (above). There are few things finer in life than waking up in the middle of a lagoon amidst one of the world’s great beauty spots. Bora Bora is a whole day away from Europe, but only 12 hours from both Japan and California. As a result, there were many young Japanese couples not just on honeymoon here, but actually getting married (or repeating their vows) in the ‘Blue Lagoon Chapel’. Could there be any more romantic place to tie the knot? For the rest of us, it was just marvellous to spend time here while the rest of the world seemed to be falling apart.

How we got there
We flew on on Air New Zealand from Auckland to Papeete, then Air Tahiti to Bora Bora

Our ratings for Bora Bora
1-5 stars

Intercontinental Resort & Thalasso Spa
*****
Location
*****
Air Tahiti
**

Click here and here for more pictures from Bora Bora

Azur Lodge, Queenstown

Tue, 24 Mar 2009 16:43:05 +0000

Finally I have found it. An alternative home. This matchless place on the edge of the Southern Alps of New Zealand. As I sit here in the UK, I am dreaming of Lake Wakatipu; dining on fresh seafood in funky little Queenstown; the splendid drive north through the mountains to the long Routeburn Track; sipping sweet Noble Rot Riesling at a Central Otago Vineyard; watching dolphins swim alongside us at Milford Sound; and waking up to the stunning view from our villa at the Azur Lodge.

Azur Lodge

A short drive from Queenstown village, in the middle of the Fernhill residential district, is the narrow entrance to the Azur Lodge. Driving up to the main building, one of our hosts was already waiting outside for us with a warm greeting. We were escorted inside to experience, for the first time, the breathtaking views over Lake Wakatipu. A steep path down the hill took us to the villa, where we spent four glorious nights.

The four nights were too short. In some imaginary alternative life, I would take up permanent residence in one of these large villas: waking up every morning in the clear Otago air; stepping onto the terrace for a long breakfast against the backdrop of Wakatipu and its mountains; spending even longer in the spa bath; returning in the evening for dinner by the fire, with a bottle straight from the Central Otago vineyards. Would paradise be boring after a while? Not when there are all the wonders of the Queenstown Bay area (and beyond) to explore.

On the way to Milford Sound

Squeezing into a tiny (and I mean TINY) helicopter on a cloudy, partially windy day is not my idea of total fun. But the view from Queenstown airport to Milford Sound - over the peaks of the Southern Alps - was so stunning that anxiety was suspended. The scenes are instantly recognisable to Lord of the Rings fans, as many aerial shots of the Alps were used in the Trilogy.

Milford Sound

Milford Sound itself is magnificently gloomy. It is reportedly the wettest place in New Zealand (that’s some going), and the weather seems always to be on the verge of some violent and sudden change. The slow journey out from the landing bay to the narrow inlet which leads to the Tasman Sea is crowded in from all sides by steep, dark rock. Small groups of dolphins join in the fun, twisting and turning alongside the boat, diving underneath it and disappearing into the black water. Milford Sound is said to be the most popular tourist destination in New Zealand, despite its inaccessibility. If you are really adventurous, it can be reached after a walk lasting several days along the famous Milford Track, often quoted as ‘the best walk in the world’.

Landing on top of the world

After experiencing the full wonder of Milford Sound, it was time to head back in the helicopter. Our imperturbable young pilot must have thought we were ready for a more daring ride, as he swooped and dived through the mountains. For his true act of magic, he landed with incredible skill on top of a glacier - nudging his way closer and closer to the rock before leaping up onto the snow bed (above). I was far too much in awe of his talents to be nervous at all.

The Shotover Jet

Less than half an hour from Queenstown are the Shotover River Canyons, where yet more fearless young Kiwis take visitors on a hair-raising ride in a purpose-built jet that can zigzag at very high speeds, skirting jagged rock with very little margin for error (above). Again, it’s the skill of the jet pilot that makes this a fun experience rather than a terrifying one.

Otago vineyards

Queenstown and the Central Otago region has one of New Zealand’s fastest-growing wine industries. Here, the dominant grape is Pinot Noir, confounding standard expectations about Kiwi wines and their world famous Sauvignons that smell of grass and gooseberries. We went to Amisfield (above), which has won awards for its Pinot Noir. What made a bigger impression on us was the Noble Riesling, one of those wines made so deliciously sweet by the Botrytis cinerea fungus.

Wai Restaurant, Queenstown

To accompany these fine local wines, Queenstown has a handful of very good restaurants which specialise in seafood. The best has to be Wai (above), which sits right on the Queenstown harbour. Wai is a tiny place which requires advance booking, but it’s a must for serious foodies who visit this region. The best idea I can give you of the fine seafood dining is to reproduce part of the menu:

Freshly Shucked Premium New Zealand Oysters
Arriving daily for your enjoyment.
Classic Kilpatrick or Tempura Batter
Wai Speciality Plate of Freshly Shucked Oysters served with
white balsamic jelly, lemon caviar and ginger lime sorbet

Scallops in Almond Milk
Pan seared North Atlantic scallops served with broad beans,
snow pea tendrils and smoked mussel and scallop tortellini
finished with almond milk

Tempura Soft Shell Crab
New Zealand soft shell crab in a light tempura batter,
with avocado puree, passionfruit jelly, tomato orbs
highlighted by coconut foam and ginger salt

The trek to Routeburn

My favourite part of this trip was the day we spent travelling to the beginning of the Routeburn Track in Mount Aspiring National Park. It was raining hard as we set off from Azur Lodge and headed north through the mountains which run alongside Lake Wakatipu. The rain was actually a huge blessing, as we had this rocky road virtually to ourselves and could enjoy it in splendid isolation. Eventually the path levels out and you are driving across the flatlands around Glenorchy, which - like so many places on South Island - was named after a place in Scotland. Then it’s another twenty minutes off road before you reach the National Park itself. On the way, with the rain hammering down, we stopped for a trek through Lake Sylvan Track, a dense and immense forest which has (bizarrely) a 1920s tramline loop that takes you to the edge of the lake itself and back again. Only a series of flimsy orange markers offer direction through this slightly scary place (think Blair Witch Project) to Lake Sylvan, where there are a few remote camping spots. We almost got lost on the way back.

Routeburn Track

Then it was on to the Routeburn Track itself, the rain still hammering down and the visitor centre deserted, aside from a couple of stranded backpackers sleeping on the floor. We walked for about about 90 minutes through one of the most sense-stimulating places I have ever visited on this planet. Its gently rising paths lead to waterfalls (above), where you can stand on a narrow bridge as the water crashes down the side of the mountain into the lakes below.

The Routeburn Track goes on in this spectacular fashion for 32 km. This will be top of my list on returning to the Queenstown region.

The Verdict

Queenstown and Otago is truly the destination which has everything: some of the most spectacular natural scenery in the world; outstanding local cuisine and wines; adventures of every kind from extreme sports (Queenstown is the home of bungee jumping) to amazing wilderness treks. Having the opportunity to stay in world class accommodation like the Azur Lodge make this travel experience very close to unbeatable. This is right up with Patagonia as my favourite place on the planet.

How we got there
We flew on on Air New Zealand from Heathrow to Auckland and to Queenstown. We have posted a separate Air New Zealand report here.

Our ratings for Queenstown
1-5 stars

Azur Lodge
*****
Location
*****

For pictures from Queenstown and Otago, click here and here.

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Auckland, New Zealand

Sun, 22 Mar 2009 18:29:15 +0000

About 20 years ago, on a dreary day in Glasgow, I went to see an art-house film called ‘The Navigator’. The central character was a nine-year-old boy living in grim, medieval Cumbria (shot in monochrome) as the Black Death descends on England. Skipping through the fantastical plot, the young boy and a group of his elders start digging into the ground to escape this hell on earth and end up falling right through to modern day Auckland. The scene I recall best is the moment when the Cumbrian peasants peak out of the hole and glimpse the Auckland skyline in glorious technicolour. I also remember leaving the cinema to step out into the grey Glasgow drizzle thinking that life on the other side of the world might well be vivid and even glorious compared to the industrial decay all around me. Twenty years later, here I am, being driven through the strung-out suburbs of New Zealand’s biggest city on a flawless early autumn day. It’s been an awful start to the year in the UK - foul weather and economic disaster. At this moment in time, it feels good to be as far away from London as possible.

Urban Lite

It’s often said that New Zealanders outside of Auckland don’t like the city at all - a crowded, dirty and congested mess which defaces one of the world’s most beautiful countries. It’s true that the traffic is pretty hellish, but for urban dwellers in most other parts of the world Auckland feels spacious, calm and orderly. On our first night, we walked around the new harbour district (above), past smart apartment blocks and rows of plush yachts to a line of bars and restaurants which were lively but not overcrowded. We were soon seated at a table in the Soul Bar and Bistro to enjoy pan fried scallops and a Cloudy Bay Te Koko Oak aged Marlborough 2005. As most people know, Cloudy Bay is New Zealand’s outstanding wine producer. Te Koko is probably its great prize - an experiment in fermentation with indigenous yeast which has become one of the finest New World wines. Sipping this stuff, gazing out to the still waters of the Viaduct Harbour, the grim European winter seems very far away.

The Westin

Perched at one end of the Viaduct Harbour is the Westin Hotel, where we spent our first two nights in New Zealand (and two more as we criss-crossed the country). I want to find fault with the Westin in some way, but I really can’t. It’s a near-perfect base for exploring the city. The staff combine a high degree of professionalism with that relaxed Kiwi style (thanks for helping my recovery my lost bag, guys). The rooms are very comfortable, with probably the best shower room I have ever experienced in a hotel (Westin has even trade-marked it as the ‘Heavenly Shower’). Breakfast in the Q Restaurant scores very high marks for freshness and choice. And cocktail hour in the retro-style Office bar is a perfect way to start an evening in Auckland.

Exploring the city

We didn’t have much time to experience everything that Auckland has to offer, but we did spend most of one day wandering around on one of the walks recommended by the Lonely Planet, which takes you from the harbour through the city centre to the low-rise districts where Auckland’s rapidly growing immigrant population (mainly from Asia) can be found. On the way we discovered the fashion cluster around Chancery Street, including Working Style, which has a fine collection of hand-finished suits and casual wear. Then it was on to Albert Park, a pretty Victorian garden which adjoins the campus of Auckland University and Old Government House, the colonial seat of power in the 19th century when the city was New Zealand’s capital. Although this is a gorgeous part of Auckland, it feels overwhelmingly colonial, too English - in stark contrast to the diverse student population milling around, mainly from China, Korea and other parts of the Asia Pacific.

Auckland Dining

We had two other fine dining experiences during our four nights in Auckland. The Westin concierge managed to get us a table on a Saturday night at Euro in the harbour district. This is clearly one of the hottest spots in town, as it was full of Auckland’s fashionable people, including a few who were preening themselves in that local celebrity ‘you must know who I am’ kind of way. Of course, we hadn’t the faintest idea who anyone was. Even after a fortnight in New Zealand, the only person I would recognise is that balding guy with thick glasses who presents the breakfast TV show on the main NZ channel. And he wasn’t in Euro that night, I don’t think. The evening menu at Euro is notable for creative seafood dishes - Tuna steak on mozzarella with tomato & bell pepper salsa or Market fish wood roasted with Alaskan crab leg, red pepper couscous & Iberico ham green peppercorn sauce will give you the idea. And the wine list has some of the country’s finest vintages. But Euro suffers from that curse which affects most restaurants when they become highly fashionable – the staff give the impression they’re not that interested, especially when you are a foreigner. It was annoying, when we asked to sit on the heated outdoor terrace, to be hurried to a small table near the entrance – with the wind blowing strongly from the bay – when there was two other perfectly decent tables available. I was ordered not to complain, but someone took pity on us after half an hour and offered to move us to a much better spot. Our other notable restaurant experience was at The Grove, which is very near the harbour. This is a fine modern restaurant offering excellent New Zealand cuisine. Unfortunately, it was almost deserted on the night we were there (admittedly a Monday), perhaps a sign of the way the credit crunch has hit New Zealand’s biggest city. The other restaurant recommended to us which we didn’t get to was the O’Connell Street Bistro.

Conclusion

Gazing down from the observation deck at Auckland’s Sky Tower, still the tallest building in the southern hemisphere, I could see a modern city sprawling outwards from a narrow isthmus separating the Tasman Sea from the Tamaki River estuary. Twenty years after seeing The Navigator, it still feels like this place somehow represents ‘the future’, especially as it becomes more and more cosmopolitan with each new wave of Asian immigration. Although it seems horrifying to other Kiwis to have to bump along with 1.3 million other people in the same city, Auckland is actually the same size as London (with more than 7 million). So there is plenty of room for development.

Despite the terrible roads, this is a fine city which is worth spending two or three days in before exploring the rest of New Zealand. In some alternative life, I could see myself holed up in one of those fancy apartments in the Viaduct Harbour – if I ever find a way to tunnel out of the old world.

How we got there
We flew on on Air New Zealand from Heathrow to Auckland via Hong Kong. We will be posting a separate entry about the flights.

Our ratings for Auckland
1-5 stars

Westin
****
Air New Zealand
****
Location
****

Click here for more pictures from Auckland

Air New Zealand

Fri, 20 Mar 2009 10:20:31 +0000

Review of Air New Zealand Business Premier, NZ038, London Heathrow to Auckland (B747-400) and NZ039, Auckland to London Heathrow (B777-200ER)

I boarded the long, long flight to New Zealand having only seen one of this year’s nominees for Best Film at the Oscars - the multi-garlanded ‘Slumdog Millionaire’. Imagine my delight, therefore, when I discovered that all of the five were showing on Air New Zealand’s excellent in-flight entertainment system, as well as nominees from the other leading categories. It seemed like a good plan to watch them as we circled the globe in the snug Business Premier cabin. The hours started to slip by effortlessly as I watched superb performances from Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman in ‘Doubt’ and Richard Jenkins in the stunning little movie, ‘The Visitor’. It only got better as I moved on to Kate Winslett, showing that she thoroughly deserved to win for ‘The Reader’ and ‘Frost Nixon’, with two performances in the lead roles which were so good I had to watch twice. Then I came a cropper. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t watch ‘The Curious Case of Benjamin Button’. So I can’t say that it has to be one of the worst movies ever nominated for Best Picture. It’s just that the trailers, the story synopsis and KB’s verdict all point in that direction!

Not that I was twiddling my thumbs for the rest of the 23 hours from London to Auckland. The entertainment on ANZ is probably the best I have ever experienced, and not just because of the generous 10.4” screen and noise-cancelling headphones. There is just so much of it, and all available on demand. With 40 new release titles, 20 classics, 9 NZ films, 6 kids’ movies, 12 Asian blockbusters from China, Korea and Japan, 45 comedy TV shows, 45 dramas, and much more I could mention, there is enough here to keep the air traveller occupied on several journeys to Auckland and back again. Of course, ANZ have to think about the quantity of entertainment more than most other carriers; but the fact remains that their offer puts most European and US airlines to shame, at a time when many have not even bothered to install on-demand systems on every business class cabin, never mind economy. Full marks also for having iPod technology integrated into the entertainment system, meaning that you can watch your own movies on the remote chance there you run out of options on board.

Service

An American friend told me recently that she had flown with one carrier where the steward in her cabin had a badge which said ‘What part of no don’t you understand’. While this may be some kind of amusing self-mockery, it got me thinking why it is so difficult for most airlines to deliver really good cabin service, with all the problems lampooned so hilariously by Aussie comedienne Pam Anne. And what struck me on the 23 hours I spent in the company of the ANZ crew to Auckland is that getting the basics right pays huge dividends in terms of improved customer satisfaction. Without over-generalising, most Kiwis seem to have a naturally friendly demeanour which lends itself to good customer relations. Beyond that, there was no sense that our crew couldn’t wait to get the meal service done and dusted before disappearing behind the curtain. It was exactly the opposite, in fact. Also, you know there are some airlines where pressing the service button can be a scary option, as you wait in dread for some grumpy, unhelpful dragon to appear. There was none of that on ANZ. Our requests, and those of passengers around us, were handled with effortless professionalism by the ANZ crew. What I also loved was the genuine pride as the chief steward announced the arrival in ‘our beautiful country’. Talk about ‘living the brand’!

Seats

The ANZ seats in Business Premier are in the same class as Virgin Atlantic Upper Class - very comfortable in the upright position, with 22” seat width and plenty of access the aisles regardless of where you are in the cabin. As with Virgin, the seats convert to a 6’ 7.5” lie-flat bed, which is clearly an important feature on a 23-hour journey. ANZ claims their bed is longer than anyone else’s, which is probably true. But I don’t think ANZ, or anyone else for that matter, has really cracked the lie-flat option in Business Class. It’s too hard, there’s not enough bedding and (for me) there is not enough privacy. You have to travel - as KB did - in one of those swanky First Class cabins on the A380 to get a better experience. Surely it would not be overly expensive to add a bit more padding to the other side of the seat, and provide proper duvets instead of a single sheet and those thin, quilted jobs that most airlines have.

Food

I adore NZ food and wine, so I am going to take a step back in this section and simply replicate a section of the menu on the flight back from Auckland to London. All will say is that it tasted every bit as good as it sounds:

Hot Brunch

Chive scrambled eggs with sauteed potatoes, Spanish chorizo and grilled chicken sausage and sweet capiscum

Grilled salmon fillet with caramelised fennel, courgettes, cherry tomatoes, dill pesto and straw potatoes

Chinese rice noodles with pork and vegetable wontons, prawns, carrot, stir-fried pak choy and pork soup

And a hot bacon roll!

Main Course

Braised lamb shank with mushrooms jus, sweet pea butter, truffled polenta and green beans

Thyme scented chicken thigh with saffron green pea risotto and sage roasted pumpkin

Fried groper with Chinese style fish sauce, stir friend celery, shiitake and straw mushrooms, wolfberries and egge fried rice

Dessert
Raspberry and white chocolate mousse timbale and raspberry compote and sweet biscuit

Lounges

The Thai Lounge at Hong Kong Airport

In common with most other airlines (with Virgin being a spectacular exception), the ANZ ‘brand experience’ is somewhat soiled at the very beginning due to the poor quality lounges at Heathrow. The Star Alliance lounge which ANZ uses at the old Terminal 1 is probably not the worst, but it doesn’t exactly scream ‘welcome!’ either. The sooner the bulldozers get to work on those old Heathrow buildings the better (is that still happening after the credit crunch??).

In contrast, it was a delight to arrive at Hong Kong and be directed to the Thai Lounge (above), where a hot shower and an Asian breakfast awaited. The main ANZ lounge in Auckland is something of a disappointment, in that the decor is a little tired and the seats are old and hard. However, we understand that a major overhaul is on the way.

Review of Air New Zealand Transpacific Business Class,
NZ040, Auckland to Papeete (B767-300ER)
NZ041, Papeete to Auckland

After our first week in New Zealand, we were back on board for a five-hour flight to Tahiti, where we were delighted to be greeted by the same chief steward who accompanied us to Auckland.

Although we missed the more intimate atmosphere of 747-400 nose section, I am pleased to report that standards of service on this flight were every bit as good as the long-long haul, with the same top-class entertainment system available.

The seats don’t lie-flat, but were very comfortable all the same, and it didn’t feel like five hours-plus by the time we landed in Papeete.
The food was again excellent, and here are some pictures to whet your appetite.

Appetizer

Table setting

Main Course

Dessert

Review of Air New Zealand Domestic
Our 737 landing at Queenstown, South Island

Oh boy. Talk about coming back to reality with a bang. ANZ clearly puts huge effort into its long-haul services because it knows that it has to compete in a very tough environment. This is clearly not the case on domestic flights, where alternative carriers seem thin on the ground (or in the air, for that matter). The friendly service is still there, but the ANZ domestic services don’t share any of the features (or even aspects of them) which make the long haul so special. As we crammed into narrow seats and waited anxiously for the biscuits and coffee to crawl down the aisle towards us, it was difficult to make any connection between the brand we had experienced on long and this EasyJet-style service. I appreciate that this was an all-economy experience, but does that mean you abandon everything that makes your brand special? We heard some locals complaining that ANZ ‘doesn’t have to try’ on its short-haul, and I would have to concur.

The only domestic flight we enjoyed was the short trip from Lake Taupo to Auckland on a Beechcraft 1900D (above). Although there was no cabin crew, it was fun to fly over beautiful North Island on a clear night.

Verdict

After 46 hours going from London to Auckland and back again, and another 10-11 going to Papeete and back, I was beginning to feel like ANZ long haul was my home! The ANZ service was enough to make this interminable journey actually enjoyable. It was one of the few occasions where the long-haul was a sanctuary on a very busy holiday, an experience to be savoured rather than endured. I will stick my neck out and say this is now my favourite business class experience, even better than Virgin. Just get to work on the domestic, guys. I want to come back as soon as possible!

Emirates A380 First Class

Thu, 4 Dec 2008 16:32:17 +0000

Review of Emirates A380 First Class, EK001, Dubai – London Heathrow

By KO. I’ll start with a confession : I was an Emirates virgin. Not sure why I had never flown with the carrier before; but having heard both good and bad things about the airline, I wasn’t really sure what to expect. However, the opportunity to try out the new A380 service from Dubai to London Heathrow was too good to pass up. I was returning from a visit to my parents in Kuala Lumpur and decided to return via Dubai.

My first impressions of Emirates were not good. I travelled from Kuala Lumpur to Dubai in Business class (First not being available on this sector). Seats on this 6 hour sector were not lie-flat, crew were disinterested (barely making an effort to greet passengers as they boarded the aircraft) and I was ready to dislike this airline. Things changed from the minute I entered the Emirates First lounge in Dubai’s new terminal 3.

First Class Lounge

The lounge is very large; at 6 am in the morning it was very quiet. I had a quick manicure at the Timeless Spa (no queue at this hour of the morning) before sitting down in the dining area to have some breakfast. You can choose from a buffet or á la carte dining options and I opted for some Belgian waffles, which were very quickly brought to my table. Service is very attentive, the waiter asking me if I wanted a newspaper to read while I was having my breakfast. Not a bad way to spend a two- hour layover in Dubai.

Boarding the A380

The boarding gates for the A380 are almost directly opposite the entrance to the First Class lounge. Boarding was completely hassle-free, the boarding gate being almost completely deserted. After presenting your boarding pass, you take a lift down to ‘Boarding level 2’ which connects to the upper deck of the A380. (In contrast, deplaning at London Heathrow was completely chaotic – ramp staff struggling to connect aerobridges to the plane. Are they still not used to the A380 at Heathrow?)

The First Suite

The Emirates First Suite is a very nice product (although not unique to the A380). The suite has a nice grey leather seat which converts into a full flat bed, electronically controlled sliding doors, a ‘do not disturb’ button, a ‘pop-up’ mini-bar, a mini wardrobe and drawers for writing materials and toiletries. I found the seat very comfortable and, once converted into a bed (with mattress and duvet), I found it very easy to fall asleep in the suite. My one minor gripe : there isn’t a great deal of storage space in the suite for cabin baggage - sticking my standard sized trolley bag at the end of the seat almost obstructed it from converting into the full flat position.

Inflight entertainment

I know it’s becoming a little bit of a cliché to talk about how quiet the plane is. There is so little ‘roar’ from the engines on take off that you wonder how this giant hulk of an aircraft is going to build up enough speed to get off the ground. Not sure if it was the quietness of the aircraft or the noise reduction headsets, but I was particularly impressed by the sound quality of the ICE entertainment system on this flight. The large TV screens (23 inches?) in the First Suites help too.

Onboard service

There were 4 flight attendants serving the 14 passengers in First Class (a full flight!) overseen by a friendly Australian purser. Service was on a par with that I’ve enjoyed on Singapore Airlines and Malaysia Airlines, although the service style is a little bit more relaxed. I was shown personally to my seat at the beginning of the flight and addressed by name throughout the flight. The cabin crew also had time for a little conversation and were quite enthusiastic about showing me the features of the aircraft.

Dining is on-demand and I selected the caviar and a very nice lobster / prawn curry from the extensive menu. There’s also a decent selection of wines onboard though I pretty much stuck to Dom Perignon throughout the flight. Another nice touch : in-flight amenities (slippers, face towel, Bulgari toiletries, pyjamas) are presented to you in a nice, environmentally friendly canvas bag so you can take it all home with you.

The Shower

OK, so I had to try the shower! Was woken up 90 minutes before landing for my allocated time slot in the shower spa. These shower rooms are huge! Each passenger in First class is allocated about 20 minutes in the shower spa with about 5 minutes worth of water available for the shower. I didn’t notice many other passengers using the shower facilities on this flight so I guess that I could probably have had a longer time in the shower if I’d so desired. A dedicated shower room attendant prepares the shower beforehand, laying out towels etc. There is a good jet of water from the onboard shower and a light indicator inside the shower lets you know how much water there is left for your shower. I emerged from the shower thinking what a fantastic way this was to end a long-haul flight, without the usual grogginess that I feel as I stagger off a plane. Time for a quick espresso in the onboard lounge !

Overall impression

I’m in love with the Emirates A380!! Now if only we could reroute all our future trips through Dubai…

Beit Al Mamlouka

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 00:18:30 +0000

IT’S hard to know what to expect coming to an ancient city of such legendary status, the name of which is almost history itself - Damascus. After a reasonably smooth passage through Syrian immigration, we are driven through some run-down or half-finished suburbs before arriving at the gates of the Old City, where (excavation records tell us) humans have lived since 8,000 BC. As night falls, our jeep squeezes down the narrow lanes of old Damascus. The streets are alive with little shops and cafes. Young Syrians gather for a smoke, or a tiny cup of sweet black coffee. Most of the young women wear jeans and let their shiny hair flow freely. A few are covered completely. One is reminded that this is a ‘secular’ city. One quarter of the population is Christian. Inching through the crowds, we pass a Turkish bath where you can see the men gathering for an evening’s sweat. Across the road is our hotel, one of the walled secrets of Damascus. It feels like this is a unique place on earth.

Beit Al Mamlouka

It’s been said often that many treasures exist behind the walls of the Old City. How true in the case of Beit Al-Mamlouka, an 18th-century house perfectly restored by the independent owners. Stepping into the marbled courtyard (top) feels like passing through a magic door to the distant past. Sitting beneath the citrus and orange trees, it is possible to wash away the twenty first century completely from your mind.

We are lucky enough to stay in the Suleman the Magnificent suite (above), just off the main courtyard. The room is dominated by the 200-year-old Christian fresco on the ceiling, which has survived in remarkably good condition after all this time. With its own marble fountain, finely carved wooden shutters and period furniture, one can live for a few days like a prosperous 18th century Arab merchant. Amazing.

Ummayad Mosque

The Grand Mosque of Damascus is of huge importance for religious, architectural and historical reasons. Perhaps this can be summed up in one fact: the tomb of Saladin lies here. Visitors of all faiths are welcome here, after removing footwear. The great courtyard (above) is a peaceful place to spend an hour or so, despite the great number of people walking around and children sliding playfully along the immaculate marble floor. Also well worth a visit is the Azm Palace, built in 1750 as the residence of the Ottoman Pasha (Prince) of Damascus. The intricate artwork in the residential suites on show to the public is unique and absorbing.

Palmiyra

A somewhat crazy three-hour drive from Damascus is the ancient city of Palmyra, now in the process of being painstakingly excavated and restored to (pieces of) its former glory. Although the journey is not pleasant, it’s well worth making to see some of the best early Roman ruins in the world. Archeologists are gradually uncovering the incredible tombs that the wealthy merchants of Palmyra built for their families. It’s possible to view a handful of them. The enormous Temple of Ba’al, a local Pagan God, is probably the most famous part of Palymra; but I was astonished by the small amphitheatre, which has been recovered from the sand virtually intact.

Souk City

The souks of Damascus are, of course, world famous, and a ‘must-see’ for visitors to the city. There is so much to take in here, and I would advise anyone to buy a big bag of the delicious local confectionary - at the very least. Also, spend at least an hour watching the world go buy in one of the large cafes where local residents gather to smoke and set the world to rights. The thick, soupy substance which is called coffee in Damascus is strangely irresistible. You can also spend hours walking around areas like the covered souk of Medhat Pasha (above), breathing the spice-filled air of this historic city. When you have finished shopping, make sure to take a trip down the Street Called Straight to the tiny Chapel of Saint Ananias, where St Paul is said to have been baptised. When we arrive, a few local worshippers are preying in front of the altar, their eyes shut tight in search of the Christian God. Given our current problems in the world, it lifts the soul to see the two great religions living so comfortably side by side.

The Verdict

My prediction is that Damascus could become one of the most fashionable destinations for the world traveller within the next decade. The shifting plates of international politics seem to be moving Syria to become more open, unique boutique hotels like Beit Al-Mamlouka are springing up, and the people of Damascus extend a warm Arabic welcome to visitors everywhere. If you are planning a trip, October and November are the perfect months - warm, bright days and mild evenings, ideal for strolling around the ancient city.

How we got there
We flew on Austrian Airlines from London Heathrow to Damascus via Vienna.

Our ratings for Damascus
1-5 stars

Beit Al-Mamlouka Hotel
*****
Austrian Airlines
****
Location
*****

Click here for more pictures from Damascus

Sofitel Luxembourg Le Grand Ducal

Sat, 27 Sep 2008 15:48:28 +0100

FOR most Europeans, I would guess, Luxembourg features very little in our thoughts. It sits oddly, permanently in the background of our lives, a minor detail on the map of Europe as we scan for more glamorous locations in Italy, Switzerland or France. For some reason, we had a rising curiosity about the Grand Duchy in 2008, partly inspired by the search for well-regarded Michelin-starred restaurants on the continent. It turned out that Luxembourg was home to Mosconi, a two-star Italian restaurant - the only one with such status outside of Italy itself. So we packed a party of six onto one of those tiny VLM Fokker 50s that fly from London City to the BeNeLux countries. At the end of September, London was turning cold, and the forecast in Luxembourg was still ‘warm and sunny’.

Sofitel Grand Ducal

Having experienced such luxury and fantastic service at the Sofitel Wanda in Beijing a few weeks before, I had high expectations of the new Sofitel Le Grand Ducal. The two cannot really be compared, but the ultra-chic and intimate Grand Ducal sits as perfectly in Luxembourg overlooking the Petrusse Valley as the magnificent Wanda does in the megalopolis of Beijing. We booked the Sofitel Suite with its warm colour scheme and plentiful supply of comfy seating (above) and exceptional bathroom (below) - complete with Hermes Eau D’Orange Verte toiletries.

The Sofitel also has a very cool bar on the top floor called Coco Mango, where you can find many of the country’s smart young set enjoying the ‘New Wave’ ambience and views of the Old Town. In summary, this is a great place to stay for the the weekend, perfectly located to explore the best that Luxembourg city has to offer.

The old town

It really was the last day of summer here (compared to the foggy day we left behind in London) and we spent a sublime few hours walking around the pristine old town of Luxembourg, and drinking beer in a sun-kissed square near the main public buildings. Doubtless we would go mad if we were stuck here for longer, but for this one day it was simply glorious. I was struggling to think of a part of London where one could enjoy such a chilled-out urban experience with friends. Maybe it’s time to move to Barnes!

After strolling back to the hotel to freshen up and have an aperitif at the Coco Mango lounge, we walked back across to the old town for dinner at Mosconi. The best of the day was yet to come!

Marvellous Mosconi

Mosconi is, to repeat, the only two-starred Italian restaurant in Europe outside of Italy itself. It’s in a white-walled town house which sits by the banks of the Alzette river in the cutest part of old Luxembourg - a wonderful location. The lady of the house, Simonetta Mosconi, took charge as soon as we arrived, with a big Italian welcome, overseeing every aspect of the service during our meal. She has to be the best maitre d’hote I have experienced at any restaurant in the world.

Mosconi gets its two stars from Michelin because of the combination of classic Italian cuisine and imaginative and appropriate modern touches. The highlights: my friends shared a wild turbot in salt crust, with light marjoram in tomato sauce, while I tucked into a delicious veal entrecote, lightly coated with white truffle cream over baked tomato and celery. My dessert was a dream-like ‘Symphonie Chocolat’, a combination of cocoa flavours that left me feeling light-headed and slightly delirious! What a stupendous evening’s dining.

The Verdict

If you live almost anywhere in Europe west of Warsaw, Luxembourg is the perfect 24-hour location and weekend holiday break. Mosconi and the Sofitel Grand Ducal offer the ideal combination of fashionable European dining and hospitality.

How we got there
We flew from London City Airport to Luxembourg on VLM Airlines, and stayed at the Sofitel Luxembourg Le Grand Ducal for one night.

Our ratings for Luxembourg
1-5 stars

Sofitel Luxembourg Le Grand Ducal
*****
VLM Airlines
***
Mosconi
*****
Location
****

Beijing City 2008

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 00:20:03 +0100

IS there anywhere which embodies the rapidly changing face of Beijing more than 798 Space? This is a vast collection of modern art housed in a series of buildings that used to be - literally - 798 Factory. It’s like a Chinese version of London’s trendy Hoxton district, except without the litter and the drunks.

The exhibitions by contemporary Chinese artists are both original and politically challenging. Consider, for example, the work of Mr Liu Shuishi and the ‘Chinese Abstract Implicationism’ movement. Try putting that term into Google and you will find little beyond the Chinese language blogs. In the West, we are paying so little attention to the amazing cultural development of China which is taking place alongside the rapid economic development of the country. I could have spent several days at 798 Space.

Fine Dining

What goes for art is also true of dining. Beijing is a gastronomic feast, with fine dining which makes London’s Michelin-starred oriental delights like Yauatcha or Hakkasan seem second rate. This is a picture of me at the Red Capital Club, which you can find after driving down the dirt track road of an inner-city ‘hutong’ - traditional working class area.

The Red Capital is an attempt to recreate the kind of snug dining room which Mao may have frequented just after the revolution in 1949. It has a fabulously cosy smoking room where you can browse through the Collected Speeches of the great man. You can also stay at the Red Capital Club, with the choice of the Chairman’s Suite, recalling the days when Mao made all the big decisions from his bedroom, or the Concubine’s Suite, for ‘anyone who has ever dreamed of being or having a concubine’.

At the other end of the style spectrum, Beijing has a whole new raft of ultra-modern restaurants, typified by the Green T House, or Houses as there are two already in the city. We went to the one at No. 6 Gongti Xilu Chaoyang District, a white-walled gourmet diner’s paradise where you can enjoy cutting-edge reinventions of the best Chinese cuisine, seated in intimate booths, or (if you are lucky like us) on luxurious couches. If they were handing out Michelin stars in Beijing, this place would be worth at least two.

If you are looking for the best in traditional Chinese food, Beijing has vast amounts to offer. We spent a very enjoyable evening at one of the DaDong duck restaurants, this one located at ChangHong Bridge. The food is superb, but the most memorable part of the evening is being led through the kitchens to pick your own special duck.

Urban Peace

One of the cliches about Beijing is that it is mainly a smog-ridden, car-choked urban jungle, where any areas of architectural significance are surely being bulldozed to make way for yet more skyscrapers. Like most cliches, this is, at best, a large distortion. True, the traffic is a nightmare, but then so it is in Los Angeles. Yes, there is a massive programme of redevelopment which is steam-rollering over many old districts, some of them worth preserving, some of them not. But there are many traditional parts of Beijing which survive, and which the Chinese seem keen to preserve. The gardens around the Temple of Heaven (above) are calm and restful, where many local people gather every morning to practice their Tai Chi, or play mahjong. Try taking a boat trip around the Shichahai Lake on a calm summer’s evening. Or take afternoon tea in one of the quiet courtyard restaurants that lie off the busy main street of the Nanluguxiang district, which dates back 800 years.

Forbidden City’s Renewal

Even the most conservative parts of Beijing are in a constant state of renewal. This is certainly true of the Temple of Heaven, which re-opened for the Olympics after a massive renovation programme. The Forbidden City is also, piece by piece, being restored to its former glory. The Chinese have said they will complete the works by 2020. In the meantime, every visit yields fresh treasures of art, history and architecture.

Top Hotels

Beijing is now stuffed with top class hotels of every kind - from the big luxury brands to the emerging boutique sector. I have to give a special mention to the staff at the Sofitel Wanda, where we stayed during the Olympics. Given that this is a huge hotel, and the place was packed with very important people of all kinds during the Games, the level of service from the staff, especially at the concierge desk, was just outstanding.

I must also give a very special mention to our superb guide, Jessie, who was recommended by the hotel. Jessie embodies the new Beijing: exuberant, engaging, hard working and looking forward to the future. Please contact us if you would like to get in touch with her.

Click here for more pictures of Beijing 2008

Beijing Olympics Sporting Action

Mon, 11 Aug 2008 14:33:04 +0100

Four excellent reasons for thinking about going to London 2012, based on my experience at Beijing 2008:

Gold is Gold. Watching someone win a Gold - any Gold - is a special experience. I knew nothing about fencing when I went to see Mariel Zagunis win the USA’s first Beijing Gold in the Women’s Individual Sabre. It was a gripping spectacle of superb skill.
Nobody Does It Better. How often are you in a room with the two or three best people in the world in their discipline? This is an extraordinary fact to consider. It’s very likely there is no one else on the planet (bar the injured and the banned) who are better at sprinting, shooting, swimming, or whatever it might be, than the precious few individuals straining every sinew in front of you.
The Moment. And for those special people, the stakes will never be higher than at the Olympic final of their event. The margin between success and failure, between achieving sporting immortality and sinking back into mediocrity, is wafer thin. It can twist and turn on the faintest breath of wind.
Pride. I learned at the Olympics is that national fans can be great fun. This is something of a shock to those of us brought on the mindless hooliganism and hateful nationalism of British soccer. Needless to say, the pride and the passion of the Chinese fans was a sight to behold. My personal favourites were the South Koreans (below), who seemed to have at least an hour of complicated routines worthy of a West End musical.

Men’s Team Archery

It was the Koreans who squared up to Italy in the Gold Medal match. The Italians had their moment to win, but flunked it almost with the last shot - demonstrating just how slim that margin between success and failure really is.

The Koreans (above) kept their nerves to secure a thrilling victory.

Local Hero

What can one say about Yang Wei (above), Chinese Gymnastics superstar and winner of the Men's Individual All-Around event? This picture says it all: his solo Gold was a procession rather than a competition. He’s saying: I am The Best and no one can touch me. The Chinese fans adored him, not just because he was an outstanding winner, but also because he seemed like a very decent guy, who was happier winning the Men’s Team event than he was becoming the Individual champion. His athletic grace and precision were unforgettable.

We Won!

Cheng Fei clinches the Women’s Team event for China

We witnessed one of the most controversial and gripping events - the Women’s Team event in Artistic Gymnastics. The Americans, led by blonde bombshell Nastia Luikin, were the favourites. But the tiny Chinese team clung on, and took advantage when two of the US team flunked the floor exercises by falling outside the line. The Chinese, team and crowd, were as ecstatic about their win as the Americans were devastated by coming second. Then the nasty stuff began. Certain members of the US backroom staff suggested that some of the Chinese team were underage. The whole saga dragged on for months until the winners were cleared. I don’t know how old these girls really were, but it’s clear that Asian teenagers look younger (and smaller) than their western counterparts. The Japanese team looked even more diminutive than the Chinese - but we didn’t hear any stories about them.

Liukin’s Revenge

Ms Liukin of the USA (although pure Russian parentage) was clearly a fabulous gymnast who deserved some success - and she duly won it in the Women's Individual All-Around Final, beating fellow American Shawn Johnson (left) and China’s Yang Yilin (right).

Team China

Despite watching China win numerous Gold medals, there was no doubt which event inspired the most national fervour: China vs USA Basketball. It was only a heat, but the arena was bursting with pride when Yao Ming led out the Red Team, watched by two US Presidents - Bush Elder and Younger. Unfortunately, after a spirited start, the Chinese were hammered by Kobe Bryant et al. The Houston Rockets star was devastated.

A Night at the Bird’s Nest

We had an incredible two nights watching Athletics at the Bird’s Nest, with even relatively mundane events like the 1500m heats providing a great sporting spectacle. The BN lived up to every expectation as one of the world’s finest arenas. But we were not at all prepared for the incredible story of the second evening, when Usain Bolt of Jamaica shot ahead of the pack in the Men’s 100m Final, before easing up and still winning the Gold Medal AND breaking the World Record. He came hopping round the track to where we were sitting, hugged a few people he knew, and then played it up for the cameras (below). At the age of just 21, he will be in his prime for London 2012, and I can’t wait to see him again. I suspect it might be a little more difficult to get the tickets next time.

Click here and here for more Beijing Olympic pictures

Beijing Olympics, Opening Ceremony

Fri, 8 Aug 2008 21:46:13 +0100

THERE are very few occasions when the eyes of the world turn, almost as one, to a single location. That’s what makes attending any Opening Ceremony of the Olympic Games one of the world’s great travel experiences. To be there when billions are tuning in to watch; when you are standing in an astonishing new structure that has stretched the limits of architectural and engineering possibilities; when you can look across and see the President of Russia sitting a few feet away from the Presidents of the USA, China, France and almost every world leader you can think of; when the very pride and honour of the host country are at stake; then you are watching history. The latter - the pride and honour of China - was overwhelming on this night. It filled every single moment. I could see it written on the face of the young Chinese student sitting next to me, as the national team passed by just a few feet away from us. He leapt to his feet and roared in unison with about 90,000 others, ‘Jia You, Jia You’. Go! Go!

All about China

More than any other Olympic Opening Ceremony, this event was all about the host country: what China has become, what it will be in the future and what that means for the rest of us. It became the subject of tens of thousands of news articles and millions of blog posts with endless shades of opinion. This Opening Ceremony crystallised all of that, condensed it into four hours of jaw-dropping visual spectacle. Media reports of a singer miming or ‘fake’ fireworks completely missed the point. No one in the Bird’s Nest stadium that night could fail to be impressed (awed?) by China’s showcase for the world. One had the sense of an unstoppable force, the progression of China to ultimate world economic superpower. I would guess that’s exactly what the country’s leaders intended to convey!

Bird’s Eye View

We were seated just a few rows from the front, a grasshopper’s view of the Bird’s Nest. As a result, we couldn’t see the amazing visuals which unfolded on the electronic scroll (above) throughout the night. But what we lost there we more than gained by being so close to the performers, their amazing routines and epic sets. It’s hard to pick out one as more outstanding as the others; but watching good old Sarah Brightman and Chinese star Liu Huan standing on top of an enormous orange ball (top) belting out the kitschy 2008 Olympic Anthem, ‘You and Me’ was both moving and amusing. How did they get her up there and back down again? She must have been on wires.

Here Come The Stars

The big spectacle of the Opening Ceremony lasted about an hour and a half. Then it was the turn of the athletes to parade around the stadium. It took a full two hours for every single team, from Aruba to Zambia to troop past. The world-leader filled VIP section started to thin out, with only hardy souls like Mr and Mrs Bush enduring most of it. Once again, it turned out to be an advantage to be just a few seats away from the track, as we could almost reach out and touch the athletes.

The highlights were, of course, the home team led by the truly gargantuan basketball hero Yao Ming (above); our own British lads and lasses on their way to the most successful games for 100 years; and the long red, white and blue trail of the Americans - clearly super confident but very much in the shade of the Chinese from the kick-off. My personal favourite was seeing Roger Federer, (above), the greatest tennis player ever, clearly very happy to be leading his own little Swiss side round the Bird’s Nest.

Saving the Best for Last

Just when we thought there couldn’t possibly be more nations in the world with Olympic teams, all of the athletes fell into formation in the centre of the field for the passing and lighting of the torch. This was the same torch that had lit the fuse of so many political controversies as it passed through different parts of the world. In the Bird’s Nest, all of that sound and fury melted away as a succession of distinguished Chinese past Olympic stars passed the torch round the stadium until it reached 1984 gymnastics legend Li Ning, who was suddenly elevated by wires to the high wall of the Bird’s Nest, above the spectators, and proceeded to ‘space walk’ all the way round to the massive Olympic torch, which he lit from a fuse a few metres away (above).

The verdict
This wasn’t just a spectacular show, it was a part of world history, and we both felt very privileged to be there. Before, I would never have considered the Olympics to be one of the world’s great travel experiences, but I was 100% wrong about that. I will be booking my tickets for the London 2012 Opening Ceremony as soon as they become available. Of course, there is no way we can match Beijing 2008 for its dazzling grandeur and technical excellence. And the folding double decker with David Beckham inside which appeared at the Closing Ceremony didn’t exactly inspire optimism for 2012. But I feel reasonably confident we will put on a show which can also capture the world’s attention for a couple of hours, perhaps with typical British understatement, subtlety and wit.

How we got there
We flew from London Heathrow to Beijing on Austrian Airlines, who demonstrated once again that they have one of the best business class products of any European airline. The on-board chef is worth her weight in gold! All of our Olympic experience was booked through Sportsworld, the official UK travel agency for The Games. We stayed at the Sofitel Wanda hotel in Beijing, where the service was simply outstanding.

Our ratings for Travel & Accommodation
1-5 stars

Austrian Airlines
****
Tour Operator - Sportsworld
****
Hotel - Sofitel Wanda
*****
Location - Beijing
*****

Click for more pictures from the Beijing Olympics Opening Ceremony

La Reserve, Geneva

Fri, 30 May 2008 21:58:49 +0100

YOU KNOW that line about how a rich man can only wear one shirt at a time, sleep in one bed, and so on? It’s meant to make the rest of us feel less lousy about our relative poverty, because there is a natural limit to how much the super-wealthy can consume at any one time. I never thought there was much to that homespun philosophy until I was sitting down for breakfast at La Reserve on the edge of Lake Geneva. Right across from me was a well-known billionaire, having exactly the same buffet as we are, drinking the same coffee, the same orange juice, and dressed like he’s a mature student rather than one of the world’s wealthiest people. He even had to sign his own bill before drifting off to (presumably) make more millions. I gave him a little nod as he passed. He acknowledged it with a weak grin. It was OK to be recognised at La Reserve. It’s the kind of place a guy like that can chill out during a rainy May Bank Holiday.

Getting to La Reserve is super easy from London, as long as you use the Swiss service from City Airport to Geneva. Thank Heavens for London City Airport on a Bank Holiday weekend - no Heathrow, no desperate lines at security, no long queue to get on the plane. Once you land and get through passport control (with typical Swiss efficiency), it’s only a ten minute taxi ride before you are pulling into the gates of La Reserve. As you can see from the picture above, the building isn’t going to win any architectural awards, but once you get inside, this is one luxurious resort.

It was early evening when we arrived, and the smart young things of Geneva were already gathering in the plush bar which occupies most of the upper floor of the main part of the building. Once our bags had been taken away, we decided to join them on the big red, leather sofas. And it was there we stayed for most of the night, as one cocktail after another slipped down. Looking around, it was clear that almost everyone in the bar was a local of one sort or another. They looked like they had just about everything in life - which is probably true if you are lucky enough to inhabit this gorgeous part of the world. I have no idea where most of the other guests were, but they missed a fun night at the La Reserve bar.

The Room

You could probably spend the GDP of a small African country on a suite at La Reserve (see, that’s where the billions come in handy). We scraped together enough to stay in this more modest, but very swanky deluxe job (above). There was plenty of room to swan around, and a little outdoor terrace leading onto the internal courtyard. It would have been a perfect place to watch the sun go down, if it hadn’t been raining cats and dogs every night we were there.

The Spa

Given the fact that the weather was so lousy, we were not able to spend much time at the outdoor pool (top). But we did make use of the enormous spa, which has a large swimming pool (above) and lots of space for lounging around (which we did). There is also a gym, although what kind of nut comes here to jump on a treadmill, I can’t imagine. There are also many treatment rooms where you can indulge yourself in everything from a back rub to beauty treatments like the exotic-sounding ‘Cinq Monde’ or ‘Thalgo manicure’. I was intrigued by the ‘weight loss massage’ which apparently involves the use of coffee cream from Brazil. Hmmm. I am just WAY too Presbyterian for that!

Lake Geneva

Don’t worry about being too far out of town if you stay at La Reserve. The hotel is right on Lake Geneva, and you can book a spot on the boat which leaves every hour to the city. It’s just a few minutes’ walk from reception through the gardens to the underpass which leads directly to the hotel’s private jetty. And then it takes little more than half an hour to land right in the middle of Geneva.

Parc Des Eaux Vives

Geneva doesn’t have any restaurants with the Big 3 Michelin stars, but it does have one which thoroughly deserves its 2-star status: Restaurant du Parc Des Eaux Vives. From the hotel, it’s about a twenty-minute drive through the city to the other side of Lake Geneva to get to this 18th-century estate (above), which has now become public property. There are two restaurants in this building: the Brasserie on the ground floor, which serves ‘light Mediterranean cuisine’, and the Art Deco, fine-dining salon upstairs. Naturally, we headed to the latter and enjoyed every minute of Olivier Samson’s cuisine. There is a first class seafood section on the menu, including Brittany coat blue lobster roasted in its shell. And from the ‘Land’ menu, you can savour (as I did) the Rex du Poitou rabbit saddle rolled in violet mustard, fondue of tomato with Swiss chard greens and potato roll. It was an excellent evening, made even more memorable when we were greeted with a warm handshake by the chef on the way out. How often does that happen in London??

Hanging out in Geneva

It’s a beautiful town, full of fancy shops, magnificent old buildings like the Cathedral, and a gorgeous lakefront which you can enjoy from numerous cafes and bars around the bay. My favourite hour in Geneva was spent at the museum of Patek Philippe, where many of the masterpieces from the Polish emigre watchmaker are housed. I never really appreciated before the incredible combination of artistic genius and technical brilliance that goes into making time pieces like these. The billionaire in the breakfast room probably has several.

The Verdict

It’s very simple: La Reserve is the perfect place to spend a bank holiday, especially if you live in another European city with easy links to Geneva. Much to my surprise, the Chinese restaurant at La Reserve is one of the best I have been to in Europe. I’m hoping to be back in 2009.

How we got there
We flew from London City Airport to Geneva on Swiss, and stayed at La Reserve for three nights.

Our ratings for La Reserve, Geneva
1-5 stars

Accomodation
*****
Service
*****
Dining
****
Location
*****

Click here for more pictures from La Reserve

Miraflores Park, Lima

Fri, 15 Feb 2008 22:41:45 +0000

IT’S QUITE rare to get a good shot of the sunset in Lima (above). The unique climate here produces thick cloud cover all through the winter, while in summer, a dense sea mist often blankets the entire city. On the plus side, there is a temperate climate here all year round, partially thanks to the cooling currents which flow along the coast from southern Chile to Northern Peru. After a fairly gruelling flight from Santiago, the sky was crystal clear as we rolled along the chaotic Lima freeways to the up-market district of Miraflores.

San Miguel de Miraflores

Miraflores is one of the wealthiest parts of Lima, and home to most of its best hotels. It sits on the cliffs high above the coast, and has very pretty gardens which run along the front. On a pleasant summer evening, like the one we enjoyed, you will find dozens of young Peruvian couples sitting on benches hand-in-hand, watching the sea rolling in. The Peruvians have much more of the native blood of the land in their veins, very different from their neighbours in Chile. The vast majority of the people here are ‘Mestizo’, of mixed Spanish and indigenous ancestry, although there are also some quirky minorities, such as the large Chinese population which came here to build the railways at the end of the 19th century. As a consequence, there are numerous ‘Chifas’ all over Lima - Chinese restaurants with a Peruvian twist. Think sweet and sour guinea pig, and you get something of the idea.

Miraflores is a great place to walk around. It’s also good for shopping, as we discovered in the large mall (above), which sits on the coast, where you can buy fine Peruvian products like Alpaca sweaters.

Miraflores Park Hotel

The Miraflores Park Hotel (from Orient Express) sits right on the cliff top. The staff here are excellent, friendly and efficient, and the rooms are spacious and comfortable. But the best feature of the hotel by a long way is the rooftop restaurant and swimming pool (above). We spent a gorgeous morning by the pool, and I could have floated up and down there all day. There is also a spa offering massage and beauty treatments. Sunset on a reasonably clear day is also a beautiful time to spend on the Miraflores Park rooftop (below).

La Rosa Nautica restaurant

Just below the Miraflores Park, sitting at the end of Lima’s Pier 4, is the highly recommended Rosa Nautica restaurant. It’s the perfect place to enjoy the local seafood, with delicious-sounding specials like this on offer:

“Corvina de Bandera”, sautéed sea bass with crayfish,
grilled mushrooms in olive oil and garlic with grilled asparagus
and piquillo peppers, garnished with rice and
peruvian corn kernels

Seabass Papillote,
steamed with a bit of white wine, inside a parchment paper box,
origami style, with carrot strips, zucchini, white leek and mushrooms,
garnished “a la jardinera” rice

Believe me, these dishes are as good as they sound. And the wine list is comparable with good European restaurants. We spent the second evening at the excellent Huaca Pucllana restaurant, which sits right next to the amazing ruins of a 5th century city. The Pucllana serves the best of modern Peruvian cuisine, such as spicy hen casserole, and an extremely tasty ‘Chupe’ or stew, with Peruvian crayfish, corns, lima beans, fried eggs, yellow chili pepper and fresh local herbs. We have to thank the concierge at the Miraflores Park for recommending this place, and booking a table on the outdoor terrace with a great view of the ancient ruins. It was a memorable evening out in Lima.

The Verdict

Miraflores is a lovely part of Lima, and a great place to stay, but it is not representative of the city. We only had two nights here, passing through on our way to Cusco, and then on the way back to Madrid. I would have loved to spend more time exploring other parts of this fascinating town, but that will have to wait for another time. If you are staying in Miraflores, make sure you book into the Miraflores Park - if only for the rooftop swimming pool and restaurant.

How we got there
We flew from Santiago to Lima on LAN Chile, and from Lima to Madrid on Iberia Business Plus. We spent two nights at the Miraflores Park Hotel.

Our ratings for Miraflores Park, Lima
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Service
*****
Dining
***
Location
****

Sanctuary Lodge, Machu Picchu

Tue, 12 Feb 2008 23:23:36 +0000

REMEMBER those books that started appearing in the mid-nineties with implausible theories about the Pyramids of Giza, Machu Picchu and other ancient wonders of the world? They could be summed up briefly: these astonishing structures are simply too technically advanced to have been constructed by either the Egyptians, the Incas or any other civilisation we know about. Therefore, they must be the legacy of some pre-historical race of super-people or (of course) aliens. Millions of readers, including me, soaked that stuff up. The fact that such cod-science was presented by cranks and supported by very dodgy evidence didn’t matter a damn. We wanted to believe, in the same way that millions more were taken in a decade later by Dan (the sacred feminine) Brown. We need to cling to the idea that our origins are far more strange and mysterious than they actually are. God help us if we ever clear the whole thing up.

Curious & Curiouser

HOWEVER, stumbling through the citadel of Machu Picchu itself (above), my dismissive view of super-humans and space beings in the Sacred Valley starts to wobble. The defining feature of Machu Picchu is mystery. Even though the buildings are bare and decaying, there is still the sense that the place has just been abandoned with great haste. You half-expect to come across a dinner plate with half-eaten Alpaca bones in one of the tiny houses below. But who was here and why did they leave? There is little doubt that this is an Incan construction, and most ‘experts’ believe it was built in the 1400s, just a hundred years before the Europeans arrived and murdered everyone. But the invaders never found Machu Picchu. There are various well-informed theories, but no one really knows who lived here, and what happened to them. We will almost certainly never know. That’s what makes this place so utterly enthralling.

Hiram Bingham train

The luxury train which takes lucky travellers to Machu Picchu is named after the American explorer who ‘discovered’ the citadel in 1911. Old Hiram Bingham carted a fair amount of treasures back to Yale, where they remain, and which the Peruvians keep asking politely to be returned. In a twist revealed just after our visit, it now turns out Hiram was beaten to it by a German businessman called Augusto Berns, who ransacked the place 40 years before and sold various treasures to European museums. The hunt is now on for all of that plunder. Whatever one’s views on the man himself, there is no doubt that the train service which bears the Bingham name (courtesy of Orient Express) is a splendid affair. It feels like travelling in the grand European style around the turn of the last century. Polished, attentive and dapper staff guide visitors to the plush carriages where an excellent four-course lunch of the best Peruvian cuisine is served. Sadly, it was not appreciated by everyone. A restless couple across from our table were longing for a ‘pizza and a cheese sandwich’. Oh well. Even better than dinner is moving to the Observation Car, where you can watch the Sacred Valley drifting by in all its natural glory.

First Impressions

It was good to come here in February. As you can see from the picture above, it really wasn’t that busy, which is important if you want the time and space to absorb everything the citadel has to offer. I would highly recommend getting a good local guide or an excellent text book as you walk around. There is just too much which Machu Picchu hides from the untutored, amateur eye, like mine. For example, viewed from above, it becomes clear that the Urin sector was constructed in the shape of a flying lizard, a recurring symbol in Inca culture.

Then the Hanan sector, across from the Urin, is in the form of a Puma, whose magnificent body is made up of the terraces built on the edge of the complex (above). Then there is the solar temple of the Intihuatana, whose inherent astronomical precision baffles engineers to this day (and leads to those ‘little green men’ theories). This is just a tiny taster of the incredible detail which lies unseen across the ruined complex. Buy the best guide book from the hotel and savour it all.

The Sanctuary Lodge

Most visitors to Machu Picchu are bused in every morning from the small town of Agua Calientes at the base of the mountain. There is only one hotel at the top, the Santuary Lodge from Orient Express. It is well worth paying to stay right next to Machu Picchu , especially if you want to enjoy one of the early morning treks before the bus tours start to arrive. But this is also a fine hotel in its own right. Our room had a small terrace with chairs which led out to the spacious garden (above), where guests can soak up all of the atmosphere of the mountain late at night, after a hard day’s exploring. The staff, in common with everywhere we stayed in Peru, were extremely friendly and helpful. There is also the first class Tampu restaurant which serves Peruvian a la carte cuisine.

Huayna Picchu

Our ascent to the summit of Huayna Picchu (‘young mountain’) was the highlight of our visit. We rose at six to make sure were were among the first to start the climb. Given the narrow and steep path to the top, the authorities only let about 400 people in there every day. We already found quite a crowd gathered, but it was only a few minutes before we were able to start climbing. And what a climb it was! This is not a trek for anyone who suffers from even mild cardio-vascular conditions. You are ascending to a height of 2720 metres on slippery, worn stone steps, where clinging to a metal rail is often the only way to stop falling to your doom. It takes about an hour for someone in reasonable condition to get to the top. You keep being fooled that you have made it, before another precipitous path reveals itself to you. The final stage is to climb a small wooden ladder to the group of large rocks which lie at the peak. I put my head above the parapet to see a young Japanese tourist standing on the edge of one of these rocks getting her picture taken. Even a slight gust of wind would have blown her to infinity. We then joined the dozen or so early climbers who had made it before us, most of them lying around the carved stone which is known as the ‘Inca’s Chair’. Presumably, it was here that Inca rulers could feel they were as close as possible to the Gods.

I felt something of the same as I wrestled with bouts of vertigo (above). Surrounded by clouds, it felt like the supreme God Viracocha would appear at any moment.

Intipuncu – Sun Gate

For the second day, we opted for the much gentler climb to Intipuncu, the Sun Gate. Although it takes far less energy and endurance to get there, the journey to Intipuncu is just as interesting, and the peak is probably even higher than the summit of Huayna Picchu. Take your time to observe the beautiful flowers of the Sacred Valley on the way up, and the smaller local inhabitants like this little fellow (below).

sit among the small ruins of the Sun Gate, one of the last stops on the Inca Trail through the Sacred Valley. If you are lucky enough to be here on either the summer or winter solstice, you will see why it’s called the Sun Gate: the sun hits one of two large rocks there at exactly those times.

The Verdict

It’s no exaggeration to say that being at Machu Picchu has to be one of the greatest moments in a person’s life. It certainly was for us. The mysteries of Machu Picchu remain intact, and will doubtless be the subject of many more crazy theories to come. As I said at the start, we’ll never know the fully story, but I would love to know what the ancestors of these llamas (above) have seen here over the years.

Click here for more pictures from Machu Picchu

Cusco & The Sacred Valley, Peru

Sat, 9 Feb 2008 12:25:16 +0000

DESCENDING through the clouds above Cusco, a unique landscape comes into view. Steep hills and long valleys blanketed with different shades of the most luscious green. Welcome to the Sacred Valley, home of the Inca kings, a truly magical place, once plundered, ransacked by savage European invaders. The Valley managed to keep many of its secrets safe from those beasts. Some of them have now been revealed for the more peaceful modern visitor to marvel at; but so many remain beyond our grasp. And that’s what makes this place so serenely mystical.

Monasterio

The Europeans who invaded here reshaped the city of Cusco in their own image, building a Spanish city on astonishingly strong Inca foundations. After flattening the palace of Inca Amaru Qhala, they built a monastery on the site in 1595. Three years later, it was founded as the Seminary of San Antonio Abad by the sixth Bishop of Cusco, Monsignor Antonio de la Raya, to train Catholic priests. After serving as a monastery for hundreds of years, the palace is now Monasterio, without question the finest hotel in Cusco. And the ‘Best Hotel in South America’, as voted by Conde Naste Traveller in 2007. Monasterio, part of the Orient Express group, is certainly a fine place to stay, in a unique setting. The staff are first class, and there are two excellent restaurants which serve Peruvian cuisine (think Alpaca, think Guinea Pig) with a contemporary twist. The rooms we stayed in were comfortable, if somewhat functional. If you can afford it, I would recommend booking one with a terrace overlooking the Main Courtyard. You could sit there all night in the atmospheric gloom and almost imagine you were back in the 17th century.

We only had a few hours in our packed schedule to look around Cusco, concentrating on the main square and its bizarre cathedral of Santo Domingo, filled with the curious iconography which represents the fusion between the old Inca religions and the Catholic church which took over from them. This is best illustrated by the enormous version of the ‘Last Supper’, complete with roasted guinea pig on the table! We found time to eat rodent ourselves at the first class Inka Grill, which on the opposite side of the main square from the cathedral. After that, we were on our way through the Sacred Valley.

The Sacred Valley

Leaving the city behind and rolling gently down the steep hills of the Sacred Valley is an experience never to be forgotten. There is nowhere quite like it on earth. More adventurous travellers walk all the way from Cusco through the Sacred Valley to Machu Picchu, which takes about a week. If I were to come here again, I would definitely take that option, and savour every inch of this spiritual place - somewhere to put all the ridiculous worries of life to one side and get some natural therapy for the soul.

Alpacas, llamas and Guanacos (oh my!)

We stopped at a farm for members of the Alpaca family. Although clearly designed for tourists, it’s fun to see these gentle, intelligent animals close up - and hard to believe we had eaten one just the previous day! Also worth watching for a while is the small group of local women as they gently and carefully weave the Alpaca wool into gorgeous scarves, hats and sweaters. I don’t know what they are paid, but it isn’t enough.

Shopping in Pisac

The intense and luscious green of the sacred Valley gives way to an explosion of primary colours when we hit the Sunday market in the city of Pisac (above). It’s possible to spend more than an hour or two lost in this labyrinth of handbags, wall carpets, jewellery and other stuff designed to appeal primarily to the tourists. Sure there is a fair amount of tat here, but there is a lot of good stuff too. I bought two sets of cufflinks featuring Inca iconography.

Festival time

We stopped briefly to witness the singing and dancing at a local festival. Once again, it’s the colour of it all which fills the memory, as you can see from the women pictured above. The people here are clearly determined to maintain their traditions and way of life. They have had a hard existence for a very long time. Now, with more awareness of the plight of indigenous groups around the world, and more enlightened government policies in countries like Peru, there has to be hope of a better life.

OLLANTAYTAMBO

We did not see as many Inca ruins as we would have liked on the way through the Sacred Valley, but we did go to Ollantaytambo and climbed the massive stone steps of the Temple Hill. It wasn’t too busy on this February day, although we were told that the site can become unbearably overcrowded during the European summer. It still baffles engineers to this day how the Incas constructed this monumental structure. As the Incas did elsewhere, the Temple Hill was clearly designed to lead to some point of worship at the highest point, where the Incas felt they could get as close as possible to the Gods themselves. Of course, as the numerous massive stone blocks lying around testify, they hadn’t completed the project by the time the Spanish invaded and finally defeated the Inca king, Manco, on this site in 1539. The conquerers did their best, of course, to erase the civilisation here, but they did it all under the watchful eye of the Inca God Viracocha, whose stern face appears on the side of the Pinkuylluna mountain opposite Temple Hill (above). If you look carefully at the picture above, you can see his angry eye glaring back at you.
Sol y Luna

Now for the real icing on the cake. After our day touring through the Sacred Valley, we stayed for two nights at the Sol y Luna resort, which is 1 km from the town of Urubamba. The gardens here are just extraordinary - bursting with the colour as you can see from the picture above. According to the hotel, there are at least 30 species of rare birds which live here, including several kinds of hummingbirds. We had fun trying to capture them on cameras as they buzzed around outside our bungalow early in the morning.

The circular bungalows are splendid, in perfect harmony with their surroundings. In a rare departure from my usual style, I am going to quote directly from the hotel website now, because they describe them rather well:

Our bungalows or Muyus are circles in the sun, with light yellow walls, red-tiled roofs, and flower-rimmed verandahs. These bungalows are literally made from elements of the earth in the Valley. All bungalows are constructed with adobe, wood, stone and clay, typical building materials for this region. We used eucalyptus and nogal from the woods and forests surrounding the Sacred Valley and stones that rolled down the mountains near the hotel. Interiors are also decorated to reflect the Andean setting, with ceramic-tiled floors, high "sombrero chino" ceilings with wooden beams, decorative bands of stone work, and assorted curios and details from local artisans who worked on all aspects of the construction.

The other great feature of Sol y Luna is the ranch, which is home to a stable of Peruvian Paso horses. Visitors can go horse riding here. Or if you are not quite up to that, just sit in the picnic area and watch these magnificent animals playing around.

The Verdict

It was impossible to get more than a sample of the incredible beauty, history and natural wonders of the Sacred Valley in our few days here. It is one of the world’s great places, and needs to be preserved in all of its splendour. As the number of visitors grows, the lives of the Quechua-speaking people need to be preserved and made better. If the phrase ‘sustainable tourism’ means anything, it must be applied in the Sacred Valley.

We loved our time here, and will come back at some point for a much longer visit. I can feel the pull of the Inca Trail!

How we got there
We flew from Lima to Cusco on Lan Peru, and stayed at the Hotel Monasterio and the Sol y Luna Lodge for two nights each.

Our ratings for Hotel Monasterio
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Service
*****
Dining
***
Location
*****

Our ratings for Sol y Luna Lodge
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Service
*****
Dining
***
Location
*****

Click here for more photos of Cusco and The Sacred Valley

Explora en Atacama, Chile

Sun, 3 Feb 2008 17:25:39 +0000

Trekking through the Atacama desert is the closest that I will ever come to being on another world. The resemblance to satellite pictures of the the surface of Mars is not so far-fetched. In 2003, a team of scientists from NASA found ‘Mars-like soils’ in the Atacama. In other words, the samples they analysed produced very similar results to those of NASA’s Viking mission to Mars in the 1970s: no sign of life and virtually undetectable organic material. This strange result gave the researchers hope that life on Mars may be found one day.

The Atacama’s similarity to Mars is just one way of describing the extraordinarily unique character of this place. Consider briefly the following facts:

The Atacama, which was formed 15 and 20 million years ago, is the driest place on earth. Over a four-year period, the NASA scientists only recorded one rainfall which yielded a miserable one tenth of an inch of moisture. This makes it 50 times more arid than California’s Death Valley.

The Atacama has the highest volcano in the world: Ojos del Salado, which stands over 22,000 feet above sea level. It last erupted between a thousand and 1,600 years ago, according to the Smithsonian.

Due to its altitude and absence of cloud cover, the Atacama is (very appropriately given its resemblance to Mars), one of the best places in the world for observing the planets. Currently under construction is one of the largest astronomy undertakings of recent times, the ALMA project, a series of giant antennas which will be “able to observe some of the first galaxies to form after the Big Bang, and catch planets in the act of forming around young stars” (BBC).

Such enthralling facts will fire the imagination of anyone who is lucky enough, as we were, to visit this unique place.

The Long road

The place where the NASA team carried out its research is somewhere on the long road from Calama airport to the Oasis of San Pedro, which lies snugly in the middle of this vast desert. It takes over an hour to get to the town of San Pedro itself. This is the time to get adjusted to the high altitude of around 8,000 feet above sea level. Some people, especially those with respiratory illnesses, find it very uncomfortable indeed. The Atacama is not a forgiving environment for the sick or weary.

Visible in the far distance, across this endlessly empty landscape, one can see the snow-capped volcanoes which have provided water for the sparse human civilisations that have existed here over thousands of years.

San Pedro is a dirt-poor former mining town which has been somewhat revived by the tourist boom of recent years; although one suspects the locals haven’t benefited as much as they might, or should, have done. On the edge of San Pedro is the Explora Hotel de Larache, from the group which operates upscale resorts in some of South America’s most remote locations.

Hotel de Larache

Explora en Atacama is an enormous ranch spread over 42 acres, including stables for about two dozen horses. Arriving late at the entrance to the huge central building, there is a warm and personal greeting from the hotel manager, setting the tone for all of the staff we encounter in our five days here.

Accommodation is provided in a dog-leg line of low, brick outhouses. Although the rooms are extreme comfortable, they are somewhat on the small side. But this is a minor complaint; the Explora en Atacama is not a destination where you want to spend too much time in the bedroom (below).

Also worth noting is the complex of four swimming pools, three of them ice cold - the perfect spot to cool off after a day sweltering in the desert sun.

Given the high altitude, the team at Explora like to start the Atacama experience slowly. We follow our guide’s advice and make our first outing to Valle de la Muerte, also known as Mars Valley, a stunning landscape in the middle of the Salt Mountain range, with gigantic sand dunes and snow-capped volcanoes in the distance.

Valle de la Muerte

We take a slow walk along the top of a high plane before reaching the top of a precipitous sand dune. Before going any further, we pause to gaze across to the massive Licanabur volcano. Our guide tells us about the Inca ruins found on dozens of high mountain peaks like this, where the mummified remains of children have been discovered in the last 100 years. They were special children, hand-picked by high Inca officials from all over the Empire, and cared for with great devotion. They might have lived this way for years, before it was time to appease the Gods, perhaps on account of the death of a King, or failed harvest. One of these beautiful children would be led to the top of a mountain peak, given an alcoholic mixture designed to send them off to sleep, and left to die of hypothermia. Now some of their well-preserved remains can be seen in museums across the Andes.

Other guests

Back at the Hotel De Larache, it’s barbecue night, and we get chatting to a few of the guests. They are mainly upper income, retired Americans and Europeans, and wealthy Brazilians of all ages. I have to marvel at the resilience of the old-timers as they recount stories of trekking half way across the Atacama, with the midday desert sun beating down on them, and gasping for what little air exists at this altitude.

Hot Springs ahead

My admiration becomes very real as we find ourselves doing exactly that the next morning: marching across the rocky Guatin canyon (above) on our way to the Puritama Hot Springs. Even though we start early, the heat is soon intense as we navigate this demanding terrain. It takes two hours to get to Puritama, with regular water breaks along the way. The joy of swimming in these small natural springs, gently cooled by the waters of the Urifica River, makes it all worthwhile.

Valley of the Moon

I could have stayed at the hot springs all day, but we head back to the hotel for lunch after an hour or so. There we have an excellent lunch on the terrace before a long and well-deserved afternoon nap. But our exertions for the day have not ended. At six o’ clock, we are on our way again for a (relatively) gentle stroll across Moon Valley. This lunar-like environment has some remarkable features, such as the dried-out rivers where large deposits of salt cover the red sand basins with a silver blanket (above).

The Geysers of El Tatio

The next morning we are faced with an uncomfortably early start: up and out by 5.30 am. We are joining a small party heading for the wondrous Geysers of El Tatio. The dawn journey is needed because it takes two hours to get to El Tatio, and the geysers are most active when the sun first hits them. It’s surprising how cold it is in San Pedro before the sun rises. We are wrapped up in baggy woolens as we clamber into the jeep. Our guide is a sparky young Columbian girl called Annie, whose enthusiastic chatter warms the cold desert dawn. Less fortunately, the management must have thought it was a good idea to group guests by nationality. We are together with two mean-minded, middle-aged suburban English couples who feel the need to complain at every small inconvenience. This is the Atacama desert, I mutter to myself, not Tonbridge Wells!

Doing our best to ignore these fools, we hang on until seven o’clock when we finally arrive at El Tatio. This is one of the largest and most unique fields in the world, with 80 active geysers, extending over three square kilometres. The water gushes out at around 85 degrees ℃, so it’s not an good idea to get too close. Annie recounts the story of one unfortunate European who lost his balance while trying to take a close-up picture, and perished in the scalding water. The only concern of our terrible British tourists is that Annie hasn’t brought any milk for the tea!

On the way back from El Tatio, we stop for another hour in the Puritama Hot Springs before heading back for lunch and an afternoon in by the hotel pool. The evening journey is so special. We join about a dozen young Brazilians for a trip to the stunning Reserva Nacional Los Flamencos.

Flamencos

An hour later, surrounded by volcanic mountains, we are standing on the edge of the Laguna Chaxa watching a group of pelicans picking their way across the lake, looking for the tiny shrimps which allow them to survive in this wilderness. All around us are the bone-dry salt flats, the Salar de Atacama, covering 3000 square km. Sunset is the best time to be there (below).

Back at the hotel, after a final dinner we go upstairs to the observation deck, where you can get the clearest possible view of the constellations. Now we can see why this is the best place on earth for those giant telescopes we saw on the road from Calama. For the best part of an hour, we sit gazing up at the Southern Milky Way, and wonder what kind of stories the ancient peoples of the Atacama told about it.

The verdict

The Atacama is one of the most unusual and truly breath-taking places in the world. And Explora is the perfect place to, well, explore it! I have only described a handful of the adventures which are open to visitors. There is the horse riding, which must be a fantastic experience for skilled riders. I felt robbed by my own inertia and indolence that I did not, at the very least, learn how to trot before coming here. The truly adventurous and physically fit can also try their hand at high mountain climbing. It takes seven or eight hours to get to the top of Volcan Licancabur, and another three of four hours of very difficult maneuvers to get back down again. The Explora hotel is excellent; my only niggles would be that the rooms are on the small side, and the dining is utilitarian. The staff are all extremely engaging and well trained, a great credit to the Explora company. The only major downside for me was the heat. Even though great precautions were taken during every excursion, I burned like paper in that blazing heat. I hope to return to Atacama one day at the cooler end of the season, fully equipped with my basic certificate in horseback riding.

How we got there
We flew from Santiago to Calama on Lan Chile and stayed at the Hotel de Larache for five days and four nights.

Our ratings for Explora en Atacama
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Service
*****
Dining
***
Location
*****

Click here for the Atacama Photo Gallery

Hotel Tremoille & Le Pre Catelan, Paris

Sat, 26 Jan 2008 11:54:55 +0000

GIVEN our capacity for screw-ups in this country, it seems extraordinary that we have managed to complete the high-speed rail link from London to Paris. And yet, there it is: the EuroStar train sitting patiently for its passengers amid the recreated glories of St Pancras Station, with Paris no more than two and a half hours away. Who knows: the 2012 Olympic Games might be a triumph after all.

Gare du Nord (Londres)

The ‘re-imagining’ of St Pancras deserves a few words. Any visitor to London should make the effort to come here, in order to see the perfect synthesis of old Victorian grandeur and 21st Century architecture. The vast, world famous Barlow train shed has been reglazed and repainted in the original sky blue. Near the entrance, there is a statue of Sir John Betjeman, the former Poet Laureate who helped save St Pancras from the bulldozers, gazing up in wonder at this astonishing sight. Early in the morning on a dreary January day, thousands of passengers are already streaming past him to catch the Paris and Brussels trains, perhaps stopping, as we did, at the new champagne bar in the centre of the station, to enjoy a few more moments in this genuinely special place (above).

The EuroStar itself has not improved dramatically since moving from Waterloo to St Pancras. The Leisure Select service is OK, with a decent cooked breakfast on offer in the morning. My biggest complaint about these trains is that they feel cramped, compared, for example, to those marvellously roomy Deutsche Bahn trains which travel between Germany and other European cities. Never mind; the new high-speed track out of London makes a huge difference to the journey, and we arrive at Gare du Nord in no time at all.

Rue de la Tremoille

There are five of us here for a special occasion - KB’s birthday - and I can’t imagine a better place to stay than Hotel Tremoille. It has been undergoing an extensive renovation itself, 16 months of upgrading which has turned Tremoille into a very fine mid-sized hotel in the heart of Paris’ ‘Golden Triangle’, just a few minutes’ walk from George V Avenue and the Champs-Elysees. The hotel describes itself as offering ‘unpretentious luxury’. I would prefer ‘understated, stylish’ living, as represented by the picture of the lounge in our suite (above). The white, painted walls create a light, classical, relaxed atmosphere, offset with dashes of bright colours here and there in the soft furnishings. A special feature was the south-facing long balcony, looking out to the magnificent Napoleon III apartment buildings opposite. It was a perfect place to sit on this bright and surprisingly warm January day (below).

Shopping in Style
As good as the shopping is in London, there is something extra special about the experience in Paris. Maybe it’s the wonderfully wide boulevards, the wider, more interesting choices on offer or the superior level of service, but strolling down the Avenue Montaigne going from designer store to designer store is a much more enjoyable experience than wading through hundreds of chavs in Knightsbridge on a Saturday afternoon, or dodging the crass sports cars which race through the narrow, cramped environs of Old Bond Street.

We have another unpleasant reminder of home when we line up to queue for a table at the legendary Paris cafe, Laduree. There are two Brits, a young man and woman, behind us, who don’t realise that there are two queues - one for the cafe and another for the patisserie. The woman, in particular, gets very angry with customers who stroll past her for the latter; she thinks they are queue jumping. Finally, she loses it with a startled Parisian, making no effort to express her displeasure in French. Mystified, but understanding that she is insulting him, he tells her (in very rude French), to ‘shut your gob’. We are relieved that the boyfriend had no clue what he has said. We pretend to be German. Despite this silly moment, and extremely cramped conditions, having afternoon tea at Laduree in Paris is just one of those things you have to do.

Le Pre Catelan
Over the past three years, we have sampled, more or less, the best that London dining has to offer, having been at all five restaurants with two Michelin stars (and refusing to abide by the absurd booking rules of the ridiculous Gordon Ramsay). As we speed away from Hotel Tremoille, through a long stretch of the Bois de Boulogne, towards Le Pre Catelan, two questions are going through my mind. The first is, how much of a difference is there, really, between two and three Michelin stars, and can a layman like me really taste the difference? The second is, does Michelin hand our three stars in Paris more readily than they do elsewhere? On the basis of our evening here, the answers have to be ‘definitely yes’ and ‘probably no’.

Arriving at Le Pre Catelan, tt feels like you’ve landed in the middle of the French countryside rather than a spot just a couple of miles from the Champs-Elysees. Best described as a ‘Napeoleon III pavillion’, the dining rooms are very ornate without being over the top.

One expects the standards of service in a place like this to be good, but they are outstanding at Pre Catelan. The maitre d’ is extraordinarily attentive, and very appreciative of my fellow diners’ efforts to converse with him in French.

Creative, culinary leadership comes from chef Frederic Anton. M Anton was a mystery to me, but the next two hours would give me an insight into his wonderful imagination and skill.

My starter is a visual feast: truffles set in a jelly with thin layers of beetroot dotted throughout. It looks like something from outer space. For the main course, I choose venison cooked in a ‘sauce Poivrade’, washed down with a very nice bottle of Chateau Beauregard Pomerol.

For everyone, I believe, the highlight of the evening is the ‘exploding apple’ dessert, a glazed green ball filled with Carambar ice cream, cider and sparkling sugar. What a fabulous way to end a birthday.

The bonus at the end of the evening is that this magnificent three-star restaurant is actually cheaper, quite a bit cheaper, than the two-star equivalents in London. If this isn’t an argument for adopting the Euro (so at least we can see we are being ripped off), I don’t know what is!

We end the night in the lively bar back at Hotel Tremoille. It has been a perfect day in the French capital.

Les Flaneurs

Paris is a great city for walking, and we spend several hours after breakfast the next day doing exactly that. We have been very lucky with the weather at the end of January. This would pass for a fine Spring day in London, and the locals are enjoying it as much as we are. It’s sad to head back to Gare du Nord and the horrors of British immigration desks.

The Verdict

It’s very simple: everything about this weekend was worthy of three stars (or five stars in our version!). Special mention must also go to the staff at Hotel Tremoille, who were wonderfully welcoming and helpful.

We’ll be back!

How we got there
We travelled on the Eurostar service (www.eurostar.com) from the new St Pancras Station (www.stpancras.com).

Our ratings for Hotel Tremoille & Le Pre Catelan
1-5 stars

Accomodation
*****
Service
*****
Dining
*****
Location
*****

Sumahan on the Water, Istanbul

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 17:17:49 +0000

The Turks were not happy when we arrived in Istanbul. By that, I mean the Turkish nation in abstract, as represented by its leading voices in the news media. Everyone was fuming about the European summit taking place in Lisbon, at which the French (allegedly) had managed to move Turkey's application for membership of the EU back a stage or three. They would prefer the Turks to have 'friendship' status or some such nonsense. If you want my opinion, it would be a totally retrograde step to block Turkey. Europe's population is ageing and falling. Turkey, by contrast, has a young, well-educated workforce which would give the existing EU a much-needed shot in the arm. Turkey is also one of the fastest developing economies in the world - currently powering ahead at ten per cent a year - and would be a welcome addition to the single market, in much the way the Poles or Czechs have been. And it would also show that the European project is not about religion or race, and do more to improve our relations with the Islamic world than anything I can think of. Seems like a no-brainer?

Sumahan on the Bosphorus
Ok, enough politics. We spent a week enjoying Istanbul's thriving economy, staying at one its most celebrated new designer hotels, Sumahan. Voted one of the world's best new hotels by one magazine recently, you will find Sumahan in a quiet nook on the Asian shore of the Bosphorus, looking across at the sparkling lights on the European side. There is a small terrace here which would be an excellent place to sit for hours at the end of a warm spring or summer day. It wasn't so attractive an option for us in the middle of December, but there was a lot more to keep us occupied.

Sumahan was created from the shell of a 19th century Ottoman distillery. It has been renovated with a great deal of care, and sits in perfect harmony with the quiet little village next door. The loft suites are on two levels, with a spacious lounge and bathroom on the ground, and the bedroom and main bathroom upstairs. There is a fire in the lounge for colder winter nights, and a set of French doors for opening in summer. Turkish breakfast is served in a bright little cafe which leads onto the terrace.

Special mention must go to the outstanding spa (for a hotel of this size). I guess you would expect the Turks to serve up a decent Hammam, but they had clearly put more investment into this than they needed to.

Easy Ride
For those who know Istanbul, you are probably thinking that being based on the other side of the water would present horrific transport problems, given that most of the attractions are on the European side, and Istanbul rivals Bangkok for the title of 'world's worst traffic'. However, the owners of Sumahan were smart enough to build their hotel just five minutes' walk from a ferry stop. Once on board, it was an easy (fun) ride to the main attractions within half an hour to 45 minutes.

The Historic Sites

As first-time visitors to Istanbul, we did our tour of the main attractions: the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia (the Byzantine Church of 'Holy Wisdom'), and the Topkapi Palace.

All of this is marvellous and well worth visiting out of season when the crowds have vanished. I'll let the pictures of these historical sites speak for themselves and concentrate on some of the newer aspects of Istanbul, especially those connected to wining, dining and shopping.

Fine Dining
As you might expect from a thriving mega-city, Istanbul is opening some fairly splendid new restaurants in a variety of styles.

Great places 1: Cezayir
First on the list for us was Cezayir, which has to be one of the most chilled-out restaurants I have been to recently. Found in a backstreet of the bustling Beyoglu district, Cezayir is housed in a sprawling early 20th century schoolhouse. Apart from the restaurant, it has a cafe, lounge and garden. The renovation of 2005 was extremely creative, with an eclectic mix of the old and the new, the camp and the trendy, the hippy and the yuppie. I loved it! The cuisine is predominantly modern Turkish, with European touches here and there. KB had a fine time with his grilled, fine-sliced fillet mignon, milked eggplant mash and crispy pita bread. An indication is how good this place is that, even though we sat alone in the restaurant for about an hour after arriving at 7 pm, it did not lack atmosphere at all. What it's like when packed, I can only imagine. It will appeal to Istanbul's urban boho set: fashion designers, media creatives, tech entrepreneurs, and the like.

Great Places 2: Changa
Next up was Changa, in the central Taksim district. The culinary creative genius behind Changa is none other than Peter Gordon, the Kiwi chef who made himself a favourite in London with the Sugar Club, and then the Providores. Changa is in much the same vein as the latter: ultra modern, ultra chic, with a menu full of surprises. Once again, Changa arose from the renovation of a 100-year-old building, in this case a four-storey Art Nouveau townhouse. It's an outstanding job, as the designers have managed to create an urban, industrial-factory feel in a surprisingly intimate setting. The food is (you guessed it) fusion, but this time with a capital F, as Gordon has mashed up the best of Turkish-Euro-Asian-Kiwi cuisine to serve his diners something truly unique and memorable. Just saying 'Duck confit with raisins, pomegranite, pistachio pilaf and damson sauce' makes your head spin. The reality was even better. Where would we be without that little Kiwi genuis??

Great Places 3: Ulus 29
Last stop was the ultra-trendy Ulus 29, where Istanbul's beautiful people go for a night out, dining and clubbing, at a spectacular spot looking out high over the Bosphorus to Asia. Ulus was the only place not to reply to my email request for a booking. Frankly, they don't need to. Thanks to our Sumahan concierge, we managed to sneak in. It's the atmosphere which makes Ulus worth a visit. It's a stylish place, if a little on the 'Footballers' Wives' side. The food is much more traditional Turkish than the other places we visited, but none the worse for that. We gorged on small Turkish delicacies and lamb kebab in a rich yoghurt, all washed down with a very good bottle of Pomerol. If you do want to go to Ulus, remember that there is also a Club Ulus on the other side of the river. The restaurant is very hard to find anyway, so make sure you get yourself a very good taxi driver.

Taxi!
Taxis, and the endless traffic they sit in, are, of course, the major downside to visiting Istanbul. It takes forever to get just a few miles. And we did suffer from being at Sumahan when going out to eat in the evening. There were no ferries, and we were forced to endure horrific cab rides, including one who promised he would take us back from Taksim, and ended dumping us in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, a friendlier face stopped by within a minute or so.

Spinning beauty
To offset all of this wining and dining, we also had a fine evening of music, dance and spirituality at Istanbul's new concert hall. It was a performance by the Sufi dancers, commonly known here as the 'whirling dervishes' - an insulting term which does nothing to convey the beauty of this very old art form. As they spin round, slowly picking up speed, with the elders chanting in the background, the dancers are trying to connect with God Himself. They say that the dancers really do achieve this sense of touching the Divine. My experience of watching it will stay with me for a very long time.

The Verdict

Goodbye Istanbul. I hope it's not too long before we are welcoming you as fellow European citizens! You have one of the world's great cities, in the middle of a fascinating renaissance which would be worth twenty visits.

How we got there
We flew Lufthansa business class from Munich to Istanbul. Once again, this was a very basic service, and not worth paying extra for the upgrade. The least that can be said is that it was clean and reasonably efficient. On our return flight from Istanbul to London, the transfer at Munich was comical or infuriating, depending on your point of view, as we were offloaded to go through no less than three full security checks in the airport, before being bused back to exactly the same plane! What fools we have ruling over us, what fools.

Our ratings for Sumahan, Istanbul
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Service
****
Dining
***
Location
****

Click here for the Istanbul Photo Gallery

Munich, Four Seasons Hotel

Sat, 8 Dec 2007 17:44:28 +0000

According to one of those achingly trendy style magazines produced by people named after French desserts, Munich is the best city in the world. Really? The Bavarian capital has a lot going for it. But better than London? New York? Tokyo? To be fair to the style gurus, the actual prize was for 'best quality of life', because of the city's combination of "investment, high-quality housing, low crime, liberal politics, strong media and a general feeling of Gemütlichkeit". I'm not sure what they mean by 'liberal politics'. For years, Bavaria was run from Munich by a crotchety old conservative called Edmund Stoiber, who had the kind of unreconstructed view of the world which would definitely not be welcome in Dave Cameron's new 'green' Tory party. Never mind. Don't let the facts get in the way of a marketing strategy for your new magazine.
Whatever his politics, there's no doubt that Herr Stoiber governed from a very fine city, one of my favourites in Europe. But does it have restaurants to match Paris? Arts to match London? Or hotels to match New York? We had the chance to find out on a weekend break.

The Hotel Vier Jahreszeiten

Our suite at the Vier Jahreszeiten
The Hotel Vier Jahreszeiten Kempinski is 150 years old, and deserves to be considered as one of the best of Europe's revitalised grand hotels. The ideal introduction is to sit in the splendid lobby and have high tea with Munich's haute bourgeoisie. This is where they come after an afternoon's shopping at the fancy stores on Maximilianstrasse. The Germans, of course, love their cakes, and there is an extravagant selection on offer here; although I would recommend having the full 'English afternoon tea' only if you have spent the last month wandering across the Gobi desert. I had not, and felt like a stuffed Bavarian pig after demolishing a full plate-load. The service in the hotel is excellent, and it was good fun watching some of the old retainers fussing over a large table of Munich grande dames.
The 303 suites and rooms at the VJ 'combine the art of modern living with historical ambience', according to the hotel website. I'm not sure what the art of modern living is, but I would say that the suite we had was extremely comfortable, if not quite 'luxurious'. The style is contemporary, if perhaps a little generic. Although everything is extremely well done, the rooms lack a 'killer feature', like an enormous bath or high-definition televisions.
On the first night, we ventured up to the pool and spa area. There we found a good-sized pool, but a disappointing lack of space for lying around on loungers. There were only a handful available when we arrived, and we were lucky to grab the last two. There was a small sauna and steam area, the door of which bore the unmissable sign 'naked area'! As usual, there was a handful of elderly Germans lying around in the buff. They seemed very content, but we were not that keen to join them. It was time for dinner.
Tantris
We drove some distance from the bright lights of Maximilianstrasse. In a quiet, residential area on the outskirts of town sits Tantris, Munich's lone two-star (Michelin) restaurant. An evening here is well worth the plane ticket. What strikes you at first is the extraordinary mixture of colours and shapes which fill the spacious dining room. Your eyes flood with red, black and orange - from the walls, ceiling and fittings. With its bulbous yellow lamps and multi-coloured pillars, Tantris is more like a Tate Modern installation than a restaurant. Service is faultless from the moment you step foot over the door, as smiling, handsome waiters guide you to the table and swiftly serve up a champagne cocktail. The menu offers the best of modern European cuisine. KB thoroughly enjoyed his starter of goose livers, cooked in different ways, followed by a delicious lobster in a creamy sauce. But the highlight was undoubtedly the selection of chocolate desserts (you can tell by now this was not a calorie-counting holiday) and an outstanding half-bottle of Cos D'estournel. A special limousine service whisked us back to the VJ after a first-class dining experience. I will return, some day.

Munich, Christmas city
As most people know, the Germans take Christmas very seriously. And nowhere is that truer than in Munich, where the 'Christkindlmarket' gives a bright, colourful and highly seasonal flavour to the city. The stalls which are set up in front of the town hall from the end of November until Christmas Eve offer a tempting selection of festive goodies, especially loads and loads of cakes, chocolate and other sweets. But it's not really the products which draw the visitor to the Munich Christmas Market. The place is packed with people having a good time, and the atmosphere is genuinely friendly and innocent.

Stroll in the park

After a few more cakes, it was time to head for a long walk through Munich's famous Englischer Garten. This is, by all accounts, one of the the largest parks in Europe. The afternoon of a clear winter day is the perfect time to walk off those excess calories in this beautiful, immaculately maintained public space.

Kultur

Our visit to Munich was rounded off by a spot of high culture. The city had much to live up to, just a few weeks after we had gorged on the finest opera and ballet in St Petersburg; but we had a fine evening at the Bavarian State Opera House (above), just down the road from the VJ on Maximilianstrasse. We were lucky enough to get excellent seats for a production of 'The Tempest' by the state ballet company. This was a new version of the ballet based on Shakespeare's play, with music by Tchaikovsky, Bruckner and Sibelius. After a somewhat slow beginning, this performance picked up pace dramatically after the interval, and turned out to be an excellent evening of dance. It was, however, almost completely dominated by the principal dancer, a sharp-eyed Italian called Alen Bottaini, who played Prospero. He was really splendid to watch, but no one else was quite up to his standard. Neveretheless, this was a very enjoyable evening in a very fine opera house, well worth the 60 euro ticket price.
The verdict
Munich is not the best city in the world, by any definition. But it is a first class choice for a weekend break. And there is much more to Munich for the visitor than consuming gallons of beer during the famous Oktoberfest. It has very good hotels, restaurants, arts, shopping, and public parks in a safe, clean, urban environment. The highlight was definitely our evening at Tantris, a restaurant which should enioy an international reputation, and which is worth each of those two Michelin stars.
How we got there
We flew on Lufthansa from London Heathrow to Munich, Business Class. This service is extremely functional, and probably not worth paying the extra cash. The seats had very little extra legroom, and the cuisine was worthy of Gate Gourmet. On the plus side, the service was efficient, and we took off and landed on time on both legs of the journey.

Our ratings for the Hotel Vier Jahreszeiten
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Service
*****
Dining
****
Location
****

The Astoria, St Petersburg

Mon, 1 Oct 2007 18:52:24 +0100

There is only one statue of Lenin left in St Petersburg now. We pass it on the way to the Astoria. He is standing in front of a municipal building, hand outstretched, inspiring the workers to some heroic triumph of socialism. In 2007, the joke in St Petersburg is that he’s so appalled by what’s happened in Russia that he’s actually calling for a taxi to take him back to the Finland Station. The young citizens of this city must wonder if the revolution they talk about in school ever actually happened.

The Astoria
There are a small number of world class hotels in St Petersburg, and this is one of them. The Astoria has been around since 1912, when the unfortunate Nicholas II was still living in style down the road at the Winter Palace. Just about every world leader who has visited the city since has stayed at the Astoria. In the post-socialist era, it has been revived by the British Rocco Forte group, and they have done an excellent job. The interiors have recreated that grand early 20th century style, but with a light modern feel achieved through touches like wooden parquet flooring in the rooms and marble bathrooms. We dined in some style at the Astoria’s Davidov restaurant, and enjoyed late-night cocktails at the Kandinsky bar. Special praise must go to the concierges who, although besieged by demanding guests all day long, were able to do everything we asked of them. The only disappointing aspect of the Astoria is the spa and gym, which is pokey and not worthy of a five-star hotel like this.

History All Around

If you love dramatic history, St Petersburg is the city for you. It’s dripping from every corner. The difference with other great historical places like London is that the events of the 20th century here were so convulsive, so bloody, so earth-shattering that you can still hear their echoes all around as you move through the city. If you are heading out of town to visit Catherine’s Palace, make sure you stop at the great
memorial to the heroes of the Siege of St Petersburg of 1941-44, when the citizens and soldiers of the city held off the Nazis for 999 days. One million people died, mainly from starvation, before the Germans retreated, destroying everything they could on the way. It is truly a sobering experience to stand at this bleak, striking monument and try to imagine what a superhuman effort it was to survive.

Tsarkoe Seloe

One of the most impressive historical attractions is the Catherine Palace on the outskirts of St Petersburg at Tsarkoe Seloe, the town also famous for being the home of Pushkin.

What’s amazing about the Palace is not the mere fact of its Imperial Grandeur, but that much of it has been recreated in painstaking detail over the last forty years. The Palace was occupied by the Germans during 1941-44, then bombed and almost completely destroyed by them. The highlight is probably the recreated Amber Room, which was unveiled in 2003, and the world has marvelled at its astonishing craftsmanship ever since. I’m glad we were here in October, as I can imagine the crowds here become unbearable in the height of summer.

The Hermitage

It’s one of the top five museums in the world, with incredible collections of Renaissance, Dutch, and French Impressionist art. It’s perfectly possible - as we did - to spend two days here soaking it all up. Once again, it’s much better to be here in the autumn when the visitor numbers are dropping. Given the priceless treasures in their care, I wish the keepers of the Hermitage would be much stricter in enforcing the rules on flash photography. Tourists were engaging in the kind of flash-frenzy which would have you locked up in the Louvre. I shudder to recall one mad tour guide from a neighbouring country pointing an infra-red beam at some of the most famous works of the Dutch masters.

Dining
We must thank the concierge at the Astoria for ensuring that we ate in fine style on most nights in St Petersburg. Highlights were the Old Customs House and the Noble Nest. The latter, dating back to 1751, is considered by many to be the best restaurant in the city. Tucked away behind the palace of Prince Youssupov, it offers a combination of traditional Russian dishes and modern French cuisine. The Noble Nest is also a very intimate setting, with only three or four tables in each room. Impromptu karaoke is definitely not advised. Needless to say, the wine list is excellent, although - like everything else in this city - extremely pricey.

Great Art

Most people know that St Petersburg is home to one of the top ballet companies in the world, the Kirov, which has now reverted to the original name of the theatre which it calls home, the Mariinsky. Thanks to some advance planning, we were able to secure tickets for one of the most notable evenings at the Mariinsky this year. It was a special show from Diana Vishneva, one of the world’s great principal dancers. There were posters all over town for this performance, which was called ‘Silenzio’. Everything was kept under wraps before the show. It became a big talking-point in the city. What was it all about? Did the title hint at an evening of silent dance from Vishneva? Would it be too avant-garde for the lovers of traditional ballet in St Petersburg? What did unfold at the Mariinsky that night was a performance of amazing beauty, as this incredible dancer led us through her personal journey to greatness, with all of the pain, conflict, endurance, love, anger, and sheer joy which is necessary to become Diana Vishneva. I was close to tears at the end. You can read a full review of Silenzio here.

Also worth talking about was our wonderful evening at the Mussorgsky Theatre across town. It was the opening of the season, and on the bill was a performance of Don Quixote, starring the wonderful Denys Matviyenko, guest principal of the Bolshoi, in the lead role. We saw Denys performing exactly the same part for the Bolshoi in London a few months before. It was fascinating to see how much more exuberant he was in St Petersburg, and how much more he seemed to be enjoying dancing with his local co-star, compared to the terribly grand Svetlana Zhakarova, his fellow Bolshoi principal, who appeared with him in London.

Finally, I must also give a mention to the great evening we spent at the new Mariinsky Concert Hall, where the Mariinsky Orchestra treated us to a splendid evening of Tchaikovsky opera and ballet music. Sitting four rows from the front of this hi-tech acoustic hall, the Overture to ‘Romeo & Juliet’ sounded simply stunning.

The Verdict

I could not have asked for more from St Petersburg, and it gave me so much. If you love great art, great history and grand restaurants, there are few cities to match it. What’s more surprising is that this is also a great place to walk around, with its endless canals and long, straight streets. Visitors must also be sure to sample the amazing St Petersburg subway, which puts the London tube to complete shame. Socialism wasn’t all bad! Special thanks must also go to our wonderful guide, Irina, who took us all over the city from the Astoria, and showed us the ‘secret’ St Petersburg, as well as the popular tourist attractions. Irina, you made us feel right at home. You may also want to try the shopping on Nevsky Prospekt, but - be warned - you are very unlikely to get a bargain of any kind. St Petersburg’s treasures come at a pretty steep price. Despite that, I am planning to a spend a few days back at the Mariinsky again next year. Yes, the great stars do come to London most years, but there is nothing like seeing them in their home town.

How we got there
We flew Tyrolean Airways Business Class from Vienna to St Petersburg. For those of you who don’t know, the hot news is: ‘Tyrolean Airways ist der Gewinner des "ERA Airline of the Year Silver Award 2007/08"! ‘ Whatever that means, the title is well-deserved for this subsidiary of Austrian Airways. Standards of service were excellent. We stayed for seven nights at the Astoria.

Our ratings for Astoria Hotel, St Petersburg
1-5 stars

Accomodation
*****
Service
****
Dining
*****
Location
*****

CLICK HERE FOR MORE PHOTOS OF ST PETERSBURG

Vienna, Hollman Beletage

Sat, 29 Sep 2007 18:38:23 +0100

Looking for the Hollmann Beletage Hotel? Do we have the right address? you may ask yourself as you head down Köllnerhofgasse, a short street about five minutes walk from St Stephen’s Cathedral. You stop at the entrance to a grand old apartment building and enter a secret code which opens the heavy door. Once inside, your eyes wander around the cavernous hallway, which looks little changed from the late Imperial era. Contemporary residents pass you with suspicious, unfriendly glances. You begin to feel like you shouldn’t be in here. Then your gaze is drawn to a sign which is utterly at odds with its surroundings. It is bright orange, for one thing, and points you to an old-fashioned elevator. This way to the Hollmann Beletage.

Another World
One floor up, and you are in another world entirely, another time. The gloom of a fin de siecle apartment building has been replaced with a dazzling orange and white twenty first century hotel entrance. But the mystery continues. There is no one here. The imposing oak reception desk stands unattended. Behind the desk is a white wall with an large orange impression of the Prater Wheel (very Third Man). But we don’t need anyone. The key to our room is lying on the desk, left by a mysterious attendant. We pass empty table and comfortable chairs and an undisturbed bookcase and step into the room. It is entirely in keeping with the entrance: white walls, orange bed spreads and minimalist furniture. The relentless modernism doesn’t stop the Hollmann being very comfortable. Instead of the stiff, generic sofas and chairs you find so often in expensive hotels, there is a 21st century chaise longue by the window, a perfect spot to read your morning copy of Der Standard.

Make sure you don’t have your breakfast in the room. The best part of the Hollmann is still to come. The following morning, the place is suddenly filled with staff and other guests. We head into the small, chic dining room where two young Viennese cooks are making breakfast in front of an open kitchen. There are endless pastries and cold cuts available. But I would advise any guests to try the cooked options. We both had poached eggs cooked to order with a delicious mixture of herbs, a unique concoction which would put the bland offerings of many five star hotels to shame.
Innere Stadt

Vienna is looking beautiful on this shining October morning. The crowds are out in force in the main shopping streets around St Stephen’s. Like many other European cities, there are a number of those strange guys who paint themselves to look like statues and stand there all day to earn a few coins from bemused tourists. For some reason, Vienna’s old town seems to have more of these guys than anywhere else I have been to. I counted at least seven in a 300-metre stretch. You have to wonder how competitive they get with each other. Do they have demarcation zones? Does the Statue of Liberty get into a fight with Admiral Nelson if one gets too close to the other? And what kind of career choice is this? What has to happen to your life that you get to the point where the best option you have is to spray yourself with gold paint every morning to stand immobile for eight hours in front of giggling, mocking Spanish school kids?

Demel Delights
We put these questions to the back of our minds and head for one of city’s true delights, a Viennese Kaffehaus. Cafe Demel is in Kohlmarkt, a smart shopping street next to the Hofburg. Make sure you head upstairs for the true Kaffeehaus experience. There will be a big queue, the staff are extremely eccentric, and and they will keep you waiting perhaps 15-20 minute for a table; but it is worth it. The highlight was Viennese ice cream which had so much liquor in it, I was feeling quite tipsy after a few mouthfuls. A government health warning follows: this should not be part of your daily, or even weekly, diet; but every so often it is a mind-blowing treat. I also had one of the best Irish coffees I have ever tasted at Cafe Demel.

High Brow, Low Brow
We try to do high culture in Vienna, but all the big names are out of town. So we book a Mozart concert at the Musikverein Brahms Hall, in the full knowledge that this will be an evening of ‘light’ music designed for the happy-snappy tourist audience. Sure enough, the flashbulbs are popping like crazy as this small ensemble head on stage in their ‘authentic’ 18th-century costumes. Some of these guys look like they want to be anywhere else but here, which is probably no surprise as they must get fed up of repeating this stuff night after night. Well, it’s better than pretending you are a statue of Eros back in the main square - marginally. It isn't a bad concert - a lot better when the orchestra is joined by two lively singers, a tenor and a soprano, for a brisk run through some old favourites from the Magic Flute and the Marriage of Figaro, finishing with a spirited rendition of Papageno.

A Sunny Day at The Schonbrunn

It’s another beautiful morning the next day, Sunday. So we head out of town to the Schonbrunn, the summer palace of Empress Marie-Therese. I am very happy that we are here in October, as it takes us a good twenty minutes to get to the front of the visitor queue. I hate to think what it’s like in the middle of summer. Once inside, it is well worth the wait. The tour of the palace must rank as one of the best in Europe. The decor remains largely unchanged from the time of the Hapbsurg dynasty, the audio guide is excellent, and you get a real sense of what life was like at the Imperial court.

Walking through the comparatively spartan quarters of Emperor Franz Joseph, you can almost convince yourself you are back in the 1890s, and half expect the old boy to come bounding into the room, in the middle of yet another crisis somewhere in his ramshackle Empire. Of course, everyone wants to know about his tragic and beautiful wife, the Empress Elizabeth, the Princess Diana of her day. I’m much more fascinated to be in the very room where the last Emperor, the disastrous Charles I, was forced to abdicate at the end of the Great War, the end of one giant calamity and the harbinger of another. Outside the palace, the Schonbrunn is surrounded by splendid gardens where you can spend a very pleasant day. Climb the hill to Marie Therese’s great monument and sit on the grass looking down on the palace and the city spread out behind it.

Dinner at Drei Husaren
We continue the ‘Grand Vienna’ theme at dinner that evening, with a reservation at the Drei Husaren. This is a restaurant in the old city, very close to the Hollman and St Stephen’s Cathedral, which dates back to 1933. I would highly recommend the Drei Husaren if you are looking for somewhere which combines Viennese tradition and hospitality with a first rate ‘Viennese kitchen’. The wine list is excellent too.

The Verdict

It’s Monday morning at the Hollman, and the staff have magically reappeared again. It’s time to go. This is my third trip to Vienna. I arrived feeling like I have been never been able to get close to the heart and soul of this beautiful city. Our weekend goes some way towards addressing that, but there is still a lot more that I would find out about Vienna. If you are thinking of visiting, there can’t be a better time than mid-autumn. The Hollman is great fun, and doesn't break the bank. We've already booked a weekend for 2008.

How we got there
We flew on Austrian Airlines from London Heathrow to Vienna. Service was a cut above your average British carrier, and Austrian proved again that it is one of Europe's top tier airlines.

Our ratings for Hollmann Beletage
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Service
***
Dining
****
Location
*****

Click here for more Vienna Photos

Pestana Palace, Lisbon

Fri, 25 May 2007 17:54:18 +0100

When did English children’s names become so fanciful? We are sitting at the back of a crowded TAP Air Portugal A310 on the way from Heathrow to Lisbon. In front are three small blonde kids who are fairly quiet and well-behaved. It’s dad who keeps making the noise, shouting over to the little ones about every detail of this grisly journey. He’s also presumably at least 50% responsible for giving his children names like Bran and Thor. Yes, Thor, the Norse God, is now a Christian name of choice for trendy parents in those North London postcodes where silliness is a by-product of material affluence. Apparently Bran, Thor and the rest of the gang are spending the week in a ‘palace’. I bite into my tasty TAP cheese sandwich and pray it’s not the Pestana. What possessed us to have a weekend break in Portugal slap bang in the middle of the late May holiday, I have no clue. It must have seemed like a good idea at the time.

Arrival
There is a great old Scottish phrase which perfectly describes that moment when working folks grab a taste of the good life: high living. It’s ‘high living’ which comes back to me as we roll through the gates of the Pestana Palace in the Alto Santo Amaro quarter of Lisbon, on a steep hill over-looking the Tagus River. This is one swanky joint. It was built in the early 19th century for one Marquis de Valle Flor and his family. This appeared to be the high point for the Valle Flor family, because the palace fell into some disrepair during the last century before undergoing a decade-long renovation and re-emerging as one of the jewels in the Pestana Group collection. I start to get that luxury hotel high washing over me. This is going to be fun.

The Palace

Elaborate doesn’t begin to describe the interior of the Pestana Palace. Although this is a recreation of ‘haute’ 19th century European living, I’d describe it as more Rococo than Empire - the kind of place where Louis XV would have felt right at home (or Sir Elton John, in today’s terms). With endless flourishes and swirls across the ceiling and walls, it feels a bit like being inside a wedding cake, to borrow a phrase from Billy Connolly. There are two salons which you can sip afternoon tea and pretend to be a Bourbon monarch. The opulence continues - and intensifies - as you walk through into what was originally the Grand Ballroom, but which is now the Valle Flor restaurant (more on that later). But the height of the Pestana Palace’s grandeur is in the magnificent consecrated chapel which is situated at the back of the main building. Services take place during our visit. Organ music drifts upwards to the salon where we are reading in the newspaper about the latest carnage in the Middle East.

The rooms
The problem with having such a magnificent main building is, how do you top that? Unless you are among the lucky handful who get to stay in the four Royal Suites at the Palace, guests are consigned to one of two modern accommodation wings which are more Holiday Inn than Highgrove (that’s Prince Charles’ country home, for you non-Brits). Admittedly, we have not splashed out on one of the grander suites, but our room is a little on the cramped side, with no view at all over the gorgeous location, and very basic bathroom and bedroom features. It’s a bit of a let-down, to be honest, which means that we spend as little time in the room as possible.

The Gardens, Pavillion and Pool

It’s much more fun to head back to the main Palace and its beautiful gardens, with its rich collection of sub-tropical plants and trees. I have no ability to describe vegetation whatsoever, so I’ll just stick at saying that it looks splendid. In the middle of the gardens is the ‘Casa do Lago’, the original 19th century Oriental pavillion, reflecting the contemporary craze for all things Chinoise. Being Chinois himself, this is one aspect of European culture of which KB thoroughly approves. The Casa do Lago is a gorgeous spot to have a light lunch or afternoon drinks. It sits high above the pool and spa area, which we are keen to explore. Given my propensity for sitting by water reading some thick political tome, I would happily spend the entire weekend here. Unfortunately, it remains cool and showery during this first week of May in Lisbon; and when the sun does shine, we are joined by several of our European neighbours who have rather - I say this diplomatically - boisterous children. I see three snooty French guys across the pool experiencing the same pain when a group of young Germans decide to begin dive-bombing a few feet away from their loungers. That put a dampener on the Gaulloise! As for the spa, frankly it isn’t up to much. There is one small jacuzzi which KB tries for a while, but evacuates when a Dutch family of four descends upon it. Isn’t it great to be part of this big European family! The hotel isn’t exactly overflowing on this weekend, and I wonder how it would be in the height of summer - a bit like being stuck at the back of that old A310 again. I’m starting to miss Bran and Thor.

Dining & Drinking
Back in the grandeur of the Palace itself, and dressed for dinner, we are in the comfy hotel bar sipping champagne cocktails. Suddenly all seems right with the world. Adjacent to the bar is the chapel, and I’m sure I can hear the faint sound of organ music again. On the first night, we are on our way into town. I ask the Concierge for something Portuguese and modern, and he doesn’t disappoint. Soon we are rolling through the streets of old Lisbon to a fantastic little place called Lisboa à Noite. It’s a seafood restaurant, which might seem a little strange to anyone who knows about my extreme allergy to most fish. But I can’t deny my Chinois friend the chance to sample some of Portugal’s finest fruits de mer. And there is meat on the menu for me. Lisboa à Noite looks like a restored cellar. It has two dining areas with low curved ceilings, funky white and orange walls and smart modern furniture. It’s our kind of place! I see there are tiger prawns on the menu (that’s Camarão tigre flambeado in Portuguese), one of the very few seafood dishes I can eat. They come cooked in a delicious whisky and lime concoction, with just a little dish of soft rice on the side. Perhaps even better is the wine. We decide to go for a pricey Portuguese Gran Reserva red from the Douro Valley, the name of which I would love to tell you, but I forget to write it down! We finish off the evening with - what else - a very nice glass of vintage Niepoort Tawny. On the second night, we dine in the grandeur of the hotel, at the Valle Flore. Although the seafood is of a similar quality, and the wines first class, the restaurant lacks atmosphere compared to our previous dining experience. It would have been nice to be there on a busier evening.

Sight Seeing

Given that much of our weekend is rainy, we decide to devote one afternoon to high culture. We head for the famous Museu Calouste Gulbenkian, the 6000-piece collection donated to the city by a twentieth century tycoon and philanthropist. You can see everything here from rare Egyptian and Greco-Roman art to an extraordinary collection of René Lalique jewellery. The ‘Serpent’s Pectoral’ was one of his masterpieces, and is believed to be the only one in existence. It is an incredible piece of art, but frankly, like most of Lalique, there’s something about it which gives me the creeps. The highlight of the Gulbenkian is the Islamic collection: 12th to 18th century carpets, ceramics, lamps, manuscripts and books from Persia, Syria, Turkey and India. My favourite set is the illustrated copies of the Holy Koran, produced with such care, devotion and skill it makes you want to cry.

The verdict
We picked a fairly lousy weekend to come here, but that was our fault. The Pestana Palace is a truly magnificent hotel, and must surely be first choice in this town. They need to work on making the modern accommodation a little more in keeping with the grandeur of the restored Palace, just a few little touches here and there to sprinkle that aristocratic flavour to the sans-culottes who don’t want to pay Marie Antoinette prices to stay in one of the Royal suites. The pool and spa also need a couple of million spent on bringing it up to scratch. I’d love to come back, just not on a wet bank holiday weekend!

How we got there
We flew TAP Air Portugal from London Heathrow to Lisbon. Although Heathrow was mad on the May Bank Holiday, it was even worse coming back from Lisbon. Online, hand-luggage only check-in was not possible. And, for some reason, all TAP European flights are herded into one giant queue for check-in. It was very, very, very long. Time to get the IT systems up to scratch, I think.

Our ratings for Pestana Palace
1-5 stars

Accomodation
***
Service
*****
Dining
****
Location
****

Click here for more Pestana Palace Photos

Serengeti Under Canvas

Tue, 27 Mar 2007 19:07:35 +0100

We are deep in the southwestern Serengeti, near a place called Ndutu. It’s late March, and we’re here to witness the mass migration of the wildebeest on their centuries-old trek round the great African plains, forever vulnerable to the predators which lie in wait for them on every step of the journey. It’s early in the morning in this vast wilderness. Within half an hour of leaving our tented camp, we see that it’s been a good night’s hunting for the lions. KB spots the familiar mane rolling around under a tree. It’s a male lion, and we soon spot two females and a group of cubs. The terrain between us and the pride is impassable; they are on the other side of a deep ditch. Ivan, our ranger, has to race along to a spot where he can pass over, and then we race back again. Knowing the ground so well, we are there within a few minutes. Lying on the grass is a fully grown wildebeest, a female, freshly killed. A few feet away are the two lionesses and three cubs. They don’t seem in any hurry. Their victim has barely been touched. We guess this must have been the second or third kill of the evening.

A little further away, the male lion is lolling under his tree, uninterested, presumably already full from the night’s cull . It’s the cubs who head towards the dead wildebeest and begin knawing at its hide. Their efforts are singularly unsuccessful. Looking for an easier entry point, one of them tries to chew some flesh from its jaw, a moment we capture on camera (above). It’s time for mum, or auntie, to step in. One of the females starts ripping expertly at the wildebeest’s stomach - to reveal a huge pile of undigested grass. Then she backs off to allow the cubs to have a more productive time inside the soft underbelly.

A live kill

Already another jeep has arrived at the scene - from another company. Ivan has radioed to other jeeps to alert them to this rare scene, their frequency clearly monitored by competitors. The second jeep is occupied by an old man with a white beard and an extremely long lens, powerful enough, we imagine, to capture the climbers on Mount Kilimanjaro several hundred miles away. We decide it’s time to move on. Ivan reverses his route, and we are soon back where we started, with the lions visible on the other side of the ditch. It’s then we notice that white-beard has been joined by two other jeeps, and that they have moved to a spot on the edge of the ditch. Something else is clearly going on. We ask Ivan if he can get any closer. It seems impossible, but somehow - several 45-degree bumps later - we are on top of the scene. Before we see any of the animals, we hear this terrible sound, a high-pitched, agonised whine.

The lions - the three cubs and a single female - are toying with a baby wildebeest, presumably the offspring of the dead female lying about twenty feet away. Mother is standing back, to allow the babies to sharpen their teeth. This is not about food: it’s a training exercise. The lion cubs sink their undeveloped fangs into the wildebeest, causing that same awful whine, one which comes back to me as I lie in bed at night in London. It’s a death howl, but one for an end which is not coming soon enough. The cubs are very small and almost completely inept at the task in hand. The agony and the screams of the wildebeest continue for ten or more minutes. Another jeep is arriving. White-beard orders his ranger to move a little closer to make sure no one else can sneak in. He clicks away greedily. Finally, mum has had enough. She pushes the wildebeest into a corner, picks it up by the neck in her jaw and press down sharply and so expertly that the wretched animal seems to be at peace almost immediately. Now all we can hear are the rapid clicks from the dozen or so lenses gathered at the scene. It’s time to go.

The Serengeti Sunset

We stop for a drink on the wide open spaces and spend some time trying to capture the Serengeti sunset on camera. We pass the spot where we witnessed the kill earlier. It seems to be deserted now, before KB (again) sees another male lion sitting under a different tree. Is it the same one we saw earlier, or perhaps his brother? He tries to stand up. He’s limping badly. One paw is twisted unnaturally. This fellow’s clearly been in a scrap. He roars. We look down the path and see a tiny cub racing towards him. Then another roar. The little guy stops and looks back. It’s his mother calling from about thirty feet away. She wants the baby to go with her in the other direction. He looks back down the path at his injured father, hesitates and then doubles back to follow his mother when she roars again. Dad lies down again in the grass, exhausted, fed up, in pain. What lies in store for him tonight? Typically, competitor male lions will move in when they see the leader of a pride weak or wounded.

The camp

Finally, we are back at the camp for our second-last night of Serengeti Under Canvas, one of the new safari offerings from CC Africa (now &Beyond). This is our fourth &Beyond destination. Under Canvas is a very different experience from the lodges or the private game reserves. We are staying in one of half a dozen tents in a mobile camp which moves round the Serengeti with the wildebeest. There is nothing to separate you from the life of the great plains stretching for hundreds of miles in front of us. Hyenas howl outside the tent most nights. The odd giraffe stumbles by. Leopards are chased away now and again by the staff. We are given a small whistle to use in case of ‘real emergencies’. I wonder what that might be like. On the first night, I feel somewhat vulnerable and find it difficult to get off to sleep. On the next bed, KB points out how secure and robust the tent really is. Our fellow traveller, Claire, is sleeping ten feet away on her own. Don’t be such a scaredy cat, Geoff! When I finally do drop off, I sleep better than I can ever remember.

Breakfast Under Canvas
We wake at six thirty, to the sound of our ‘butler’, Shabani, replenishing the outdoor shower with hot water. This is one of the most memorable parts of Under Canvas: standing under that open shower in the cool of early morning as the tank slowly empties over you, the water so soft it feels like soap. As I shower, Shabani is still busy in the small tent adjacent to ours. This is the dining area where we have breakfast every morning. Like all &Beyond dining experiences, breakfast Under Canvas surpasses expectations. We look out beyond the long grass which surrounds us to the wider plains of the Serengeti. It would be a fine decision just to sit here all day - but there is another safari adventure ahead. We meet Ivan, our ranger, in the tented reception area, where we dine every night and enjoy aperitifs by the fire. Ivan’s jeep is a Toyota land-cruiser, only two rows of seats with plenty of leg room. Early morning is by far the best time to see the animals, especially the predators who are just finishing gorging themselves during the night (if they’re lucky) and have not yet retired for their mid-morning naps. One group which never disappoints by hiding away are the wildebeests, thousands and thousands of them, running on their endless circular quest for better grazing land through the seasons of the Serengeti.

The strange evolution of the wildebeest

The Tanzanians call the wildebeest ‘spare parts’. Up close, it’s easy to see why. The beast just doesn’t seem to fit together: its legs too spindly to support the torso, and the large, ungainly head seemingly bolted on rather inexpertly. It has small horns which don’t appear to provide it with much protection against predators, certainly not the big cats and wild dogs which stalk the herds eternally. The youngsters look desperately vulnerable to an attack of any kind. The only way they seem to have of protecting themselves is to stick together and keep running and running. Yet - and it’s a big yet - by any standards, the wildebeest must be classed as a successful species. Millions of them charge across the Serengeti, and their numbers have increased sharply in recent years, according to Ivan. Compare that to the paltry few thousand lions and cheetahs which populate these vast plains, those incredible hunting skills not enough to stop their numbers sliding slowly year after year. It’s the placid, grass-eating misfits who dominate, not the wildly aggressive carnivores.

Cheetah Chumps
On this morning, we have a funny insight into the frustrations that the big cats experience with this seemingly easy prey. We are in the most open part of the plains - flat with that seemingly endless horizon. Ivan spots two male cheetahs in the long grass. We move a little closer. He tells us they are two young males who have recently been left by their mother to fend for themselves. The boys seem full of beans, but without much of a purpose. Then they perk up. Heading towards them is a huge herd of trekking wildebeest: it must be lunch. The cheetahs creep through the grass to get into position. They must wait for exactly the right moment before pouncing. If the wildebeest continue in a straight line, they will pass within a few feet of the hungry teenagers. KB gets the Canon ready. This must be our best chance of seeing a running kill. With the herd now firmly in their sights, the lads pick their moment. It takes your breath away to see a cheetah running at full speed. They are so fast that they look more machine than flesh and blood. It seems inconceivable that they won’t be able to pounce on one of the small wildebeest running breathlessly alongside the adults.

Foiled Again

And yet (again!) despite the four-legged TGV hurtling towards them, the wildebeest manage to escape without too much difficulty. The impetuous, inexperienced brothers have mistimed their run by a split second. The weakness of the cheetah is that it can’t keep up that astonishing speed for more than a few seconds. Realising that the game is up for now, they can only sit and watch like a couple of real losers as the rest of the herd thunders by. It’s time for a lie-down in the grass. They don’t seem too desperate, this bumbling pair, but they will have to sharpen up their act - or get lucky - before too long.
We move on.

Watching, Waiting

After a splendid time in the company of the cheetahs, we don’t see anything else for several hours. As I said before, this is the ‘real Africa’. The animals are not on display for the visitors. You have to wait for those precious moments. I can imagine impatient western tourists getting frustrated, and we do indeed hear a few such moans at dinner that night. The trick, I think, is to understand that you are here to experience the Serengeti in the raw. It’s not like a Meryl Streep movie. Time spent contemplating this unique landscape, the sheer vastness of it, is just as rewarding as watching the wildlife.

Lion Cubs in the Grass

We are rewarded when we come across a pride of lions enjoying the late afternoon sun. At first, it seems like a couple of lionesses sleeping under a tree. Then we spot something moving in the grass a few feet away. It’s a tiny cub (above). The adults have put it there to keep it safe from vicious competitors, especially the hyenas and other wild dogs who love nothing more than disposing of vulnerable lion cubs. The youngster has awoken and is calling for its mother. It can’t see where mum is and moves out from the safety of the long grass. It’s calling urgently now. Mother looks up and emits a low grunt. That’s enough for the tiny cub to jump across to the tree and snuggle in beside the adults. It’s a wonderful scene. Lions always strike me as a little like the mafia. The males are highly aggressive and ruthless, and routinely fight to to the death to win control of prides. Normally they will also kill the cubs of their defeated enemies - most cubs don’t even make it to adulthood. But if you are inside the family, the parents are profoundly protective and affectionate towards the young.

The end of the day

It’s just before six when we get back to the camp at Ndutu. As usual, Shabani is waiting to offer drinks in the tented area, which we gratefully accept. Then it’s time for a short nap before dinner. The sun has gone down by the time we awake. Shabani calls to escort us back to the dining area, flashing his torch from side to side of the narrow path just in case something is lurking unexpectedly. There are two couples staying at the camp with us, from Los Angeles and Jo’Burg. They are already enjoying cocktails by the fire. We swap stories of what we’ve seen during the day’s safari. Both couples, like us, are &Beyond veterans. I don’t think this is an accident. The Under Canvas experience probably appeals to people who have already had a great time at one of the lodges or private game reserves, and want to take the adventure one stage further - in a more open environment, but with the same high standards of service as the permanent locations.

I’ll Have the Soup
Those standards are definitely maintained when it comes to the camp dining. Every meal is superb, the freshest local produce prepared by an excellent Tanzanian chef. My favourite, as always, is the soup, a rich vegetable concoction which you will just never find in Europe. The choice of South African wines (in inexhaustible supply, be warned) is very decent. After dinner, we retire back to the camp fire. The sky is completely clear, and the constellations highly visible. Orion sits directly above us, the eternal Hunter. Nothing more needs to be said.

Time to leave
The next morning it’s time to leave. We have spent five nights Under Canvas and enjoyed every minute of it. It will be interesting to see how popular this new service becomes for &Beyond. It’s definitely not for everyone - for those with young children or who are at all nervous about sleeping in a tent on the open plains of the Serengeti, with just a loud whistle for protection. That said, the Under Canvas camps have the highest standards of safety and professionalism. Despite being a self-confessed scaredy-cat, there wasn’t a moment when I felt in any danger.

Bumpy landing
We say a reluctant goodbye to Shabani and the rest of the camp staff. Ivan drives us the short distance to the Ndutu airstrip where we await the Regional Air Twin Otter to take us on the hopper service back to Kilimanjaro International. The strip is really just a field, open on all sides. When we get to it, Ivan suddenly starts careering across the landing area. We wonder if he’s gone mad, before he shouts back to us that he is required to do this, to ensure that the incoming pilots don’t encounter a stray zebra or wildebeest blocking the runway. Ivan does his job diligently enough; but when the plane does appear on the horizon, a rogue haartebeest has sneaked onto the grass. The Twin Otter comes within about thirty feet of the ground before it takes off again sharply and radios to the strip to clear the ground again. This time the rangers are more successful and the plane lands, with eight or nine somewhat shaken passengers and two Aussie pilots, totally unshaken.

Goobye and good luck!
It just a few minutes before we are safely strapped in and on our way, waving goodbye to our friends at Ndutu, the endless terrain of the Serengeti now opening up below us. The wildebeest are on the march again to their next destination. Ahead lies the Grumeti River and the terror of the lurking crocodiles. Serengeti Under Canvas will also be there to witness these incredible scenes. I wish I was going with them.

How we got there
We flew London to Nairobi on British Airways Club World and stayed overnight at the Norfolk Hotel before flying to Kilimanjaro, Tanzania on Air Kenya. We flew round three destinations in Tanzania on Regional Air. We stayed five nights at Serengeti Under Canvas. For more information on this destination, please visit www.ccafrica.com

Our ratings for Serengeti Under Canvas
1-5 stars

Accomodation
*****
Service
*****
Dining
*****
Location
*****

Click here for more Serengeti Under Canvas Photos

Ngorongoro Crater Lodge

Thu, 22 Mar 2007 19:07:54 +0000

It’s becoming almost impossible to open a newspaper or magazine these days without coming across some kind of spurious ‘list’. You know the kind thing - the 100 most powerful people in Britain, the top 50 celebrity hairdressers, the most influential town planners in the West Midlands. In the best traditions of British journalism, these lists are, of course, completely made up with little or no sense or method behind them except the random opinions of a few hacks. A little more scientific are the lists which regularly adorn the pages of Conde Nast Traveller, as they are based on the votes of readers. So I am more than a little curious as we draw up at the gates of the resort which was chosen as the second best hotel in the world in 2005. Yes, that’s the world, the whole world. There’s only one other place to go up after this, and then it’s all downhill. Oh well, we better make the most of the four days and three nights ahead of us.

Sumptuous!

Writing about the Ngorongoro Crater Lodge presents a creative dilemma: how do you avoid those cliches which fill the web pages and brochures of travel companies and tour operators? There is an invisible force which draws you irresistibly towards the very worst: sumptuous, stunning, elegant, spectacular, adorned. If you spot any of these from here on, please email me right away. I did spend several years working for tabloids; despite a decade of therapy, I’ve never quite escaped their grip. The one piece of genuine piece of wit I can find about the Lodge is that its style is ‘Versailles meets Maasai’. Well yes, it is rather, in the sense that if Louis XIV were with us today, and fancied skipping his regular two-week break on the Cote D’Azur for something more exotic in Africa, he’d probably come here - and feel right at home.

Room With A View
The Lodge is an ersatz African village, with little huts spread around a large, sloping enclosure, high above the Ngorongoro Crater itself, one of a handful to have that privilege. The view is, um - I was about to say spectacular. It’s probably best if I let the picture above speak for itself.

The Suite

The Maasai themselves are much in evidence. A handsome, smiling chap in a multi-coloured plaid outfit approaches and escorts us to our suite. Although the Lodge is several thousand feet above the Crater floor, the odd buffalo does come wandering through. It’s sensible to have someone with you who knows what they are doing. When you step inside that villa, you enter a genuinely original and imaginative environment which manages to be highly contemporary while staying true to its African roots, and which is swanky without being ostentatious. As with many &Beyond (formerly CC Africa) locations, it’s the bathroom which takes the honours. I could sit all day in that huge tub looking out across the roof of the crater. But then there are animals to see.

The Ranger
She has a smile as wide as the Crater itself and a brilliance in her eyes which speaks of purpose, verve and just a little bit of mischief. Her name is Vicky, and she is our ranger - one of just two women who do this job in the whole of Tanzania, by all accounts. I ask Vicky what this feels like. ‘We are spoiled, just spoiled,’ she says laughing. With her shaved head, Vicky presents a striking figure, and has a natural charisma which &Beyond could use much more to their advantage. She is also a terrific ranger, navigating her way expertly down the steep and rocky terrain which leads from the Lodge down to the Crater floor. Don’t try this at home.

The Crater

On the way to the Lodge, I read a Vanity Fair travel edition with a report from a new private game reserve near the Grumeti River. The writer, an English hack, compares it favourably to the Ngorongoro Crater which, she says, has become so stuffed with visitors that it feels like an NCP car park. Having had some spectacular safari experiences at private reserves before, I am not especially looking forward to the Crater, and rather wish we could spend more time breathing the cool air at our villa. Thanks to Vicky, we have a much better experience than I anticipated. First, it helps that we are here in March than at the height of the tourist season. I could see that easily becoming a nightmare. Second, we have the good sense to take Vicky’s advice about an early start. Getting down to the Crater floor before eight in the morning gives visitors a much better chance of seeing the animals, and avoiding truck loads of Italian school kids. As it turns out, we see an incredible amount. Early in the morning, we come across a pack of gazelles, one of whose number is limping badly. Turning our heads 45 degrees, we see prowling just forty or so feet away, a lioness, getting ready to pounce. We see the rest of the pride behind her - another lioness and three cubs. The hunter picks her moment and goes for it. Surely we are going to see a kill right in front of our eyes. We are astonished to see the wounded gazelle take off at such a rate of knots that it leaves the lioness standing. She turns back to the pride - no early breakfast this morning, kids. No one else was around to witness this classic safari scene.

Black Rhino

Another huge highlight was our sighting of a couple of black rhinos. This species is highly endangered after being hunted illegally for years. There is talk of a much more rigorous conservation policy, and that numbers have stabilised at a very low number. One surprise is that the black rhino isn’t black at all. I’ll let the International Rhino Federation explain:

Black Rhinoceros: Not black at all, the Black Rhino probably derives its name as a distinction from the White Rhino (itself a misnomer) and/or from the dark-colored local soil covering its skin from wallowing.

Ours were grey from some serious early morning wallowing. We wish them well and move on. Vicky also drives right past a spot where two lions are in the middle of mating. Rangers tell you that the lions can’t tell there are people - potentially lunch - inside a jeep because their sense of smell gets confused. After seeing this pair, I’m not so sure. The lady clearly senses that her privacy has been invaded. She’s sitting on a rock, glowing. You may know that when lions mate, they really go for it - every fifteen minutes for several hours. I’m not sure what stage we have reached here, but it’s clearly an intimate moment. After seeing us pull over, the lioness gets off the rock and walks slowly into some nearby bushes. Her mate follows slyly behind. This is not for public consumption.

Filling up
The Crater has been a great experience. It’s only when we get to the resting spot by the hippo pool that we see how many fellow visitors are actually on the Crater floor. Yes, I can imagine that it gets a bit like Euston Road here in July. The only way the authorities can deal with it is to put a limit on numbers or jack up the prices to the point where demand is choked off. Neither solution will meet with universal approval, but this unique place in the world, a three-million-year-old crater, must be preserved one way or another. In the fashionable language of our time, tourism here has to be sustainable.

Dinner

Safely back at the Lodge after another steep climb in Vicky’s jeep, it’s time for dinner. The dining and lounge building is in the same style as the villas, with perhaps a touch more Versailles than Maasai. I don’t want to write about yet another wonderful &Beyond dining experience, as there’s a danger I’ll start to sound like a Marks & Spencer advert. It’s terrific, just take my word for it. We end the day sitting in the lounge on a huge red sofa with swirling pink upholstery, drinking vintage port and listening to our fellow guests, American to a man and woman, recount their adventures to each other. We have no more words. The day has spoken for itself.

The Verdict

I don’t know whether we can say that the Ngorongoro Crater Lodge is the best hotel in the world, the second best, or trailing in at number five. What I can say is that this is an outstanding travel experience which more than justified the bank-account emptying price tag. If I were to come back (which I surely hope to do), I would probably spend less time on the Crater floor, and more at the Lodge itself. It is sumptuous, stunning, elegant, spectacular, and all the other cliches which commercial hacks resort to. But that doesn’t really tell you anything. You’ll have to experience it for yourself.

How we got there
We flew London to Nairobi on British Airways Club World and stayed overnight at the Norfolk Hotel before flying to Kilimanjaro, Tanzania on Air Kenya. We flew round three destinations in Tanzania on Regional Air. We stayed three nights at Ngorongoro Crater Lodge. For more information on this destination, please visit www.ccafrica.com

Our ratings for Ngorongoro Crater Lodge
1-5 stars

Accomodation
*****
Service
*****
Dining
*****
Location
*****

Click here for more Ngorongoro Photos

Lake Manyara Tree Lodge, Tanzania

Mon, 19 Mar 2007 19:07:50 +0000

THERE are just seven used copies left on Amazon of an out-of-print book called ‘Among the Elephants’. I’ve ordered one, because I want to read the incredible story of a Scottish zoologist called Iain Douglas Hamilton, who lived for years among the elephants of Lake Manyara in Tanzania. His goal was to study these incredible creatures in their natural habitat, looking for ways that they could co-habit with man, when both were, in a real sense, in competition for the same land. It seems his mission has been successful. Dr Douglas Hamilton has also been one of the key figures in the battle to stamp out elephant poaching. He and his colleagues have a website, Save The Elephants, where you can read much more about their mission.

Meeting the Manyara Elephants
I don’t know whether it’s anything to do with Dr Douglas Hamilton, but the elephants at Lake Manyara seem much more relaxed than in other parts of Africa. I remember being chased on safari in the Kruger by a matriarch who was furious that we had moved our jeep too close to the little ones. We would have been toast if she’d caught us. Our ranger said at the time, ‘Elephants don’t like humans, and who can blame them?’ At Lake Manyara, the elephants move around our jeep with no sense of anger or alarm. The babies are just a few feet away, and the herd doesn’t feel the need to form the usual Pretorian guard around them whenever humans approach.

The National Park
That’s the thing about Lake Manyara National Park: it’s just a little bit different from other safari grounds. Most visitors, apparently, only spend a couple of hours driving along the lake and then leave. This is party due to the fact that there is only one place to stay within the National Park itself. It’s the Lake Manyara Tree Lodge owned by - you guessed it - &Beyond (formerly CC Africa). On the &Beyond website, the big attraction is billed as the ‘tree climbing lions’ of Lake Manyara. This is, of course, highly unusual for lions, but don’t come here expecting to see them. You can work as a ranger here for years without catching glimpse of a lion sitting in a tree. None of the big cats is much in evidence. There are many leopards here, but they remain typically elusive. We did catch brief sight of one late in the day, high up in the branches of a tree. But don’t let that put you off paying a visit to this extraordinary part of Tanzania.

A Green Land
Lake Manyara National Park is a fertile green strip of land between the lake itself and the Rift Valley escarpment, which provides the most dramatic backdrop. The reason why this land is so green is that most of the rainfall in the area occurs on the highlands just above the lake. The water then sinks into the porous volcanic rock and finds its way to the base of the Rift wall, allowing streams of fresh water to irrigate the forest. There are also areas of hard, non-porous rock where - after heavy rainfall - the water cascades down the side of the Rift. We had personal experience of this after an incredible overnight thunderstorm on our last day at the Tree Lodge. It seemed to be raining hard all night. When we emerged that morning for our last safari drive out of the park, it was a tough job for our ranger to navigate his way through areas which had been brick-dry before, but were now freely-flowing streams. We looked up to the Rift and saw the water tumbling down the rock at a furious pace. When we entered the park, we had crossed the bed of a dried-up river. On the way back, it had been restored in some seemingly Biblical fashion. There was no way we could cross. All we could do is head back to the Tree Lodge for lunch.

The Tree Lodge

t was no great hardship heading back for another splendid three-course lunch! I’ve written before about the outstanding &Beyond cuisine. I loved the lounge and dining area here (above), which reminded me of the company’s private game reserve in South Africa, Ngala. The only difference here is that there were no monkeys around to steal your bread rolls. The tree houses where we stayed were also special, with a refreshing outdoor shower and terrace to have your (very) early morning coffee before setting off on safari.

Baboon heaven

There may be no tree-climbing lions for viewing at Lake Manyara, but there is one species you can’t see enough of: baboons. People have mixed feelings about baboons. My companions didn’t seem overly fussed about spending time with them. I could watch them for hours. They are so animated. There’s lots going on in baboon society! Unlike the cats, they are very aware of you, and even a stare in one baboon’s direction can produce a startled response. It’s a joy to see the mothers scampering expertly up trees with one or two tiny babies in tow. The baboons are grouped into several large tribes at Lake Manyara. I’m not sure they are the best of friends if they encounter each other. It’s that war-like gene which all species of monkey seem to possess.

Beware the Black Mamba
A safari in Lake Manyara National park adds an extra twist to that old dilemma of what to do when nature calls. This is due to the number of deadly black mamba snakes in the Park. You don’t want to be bitten by a black mamba. Its venom will paralyse your respiratory system and you’ll be dead within hours. I thought the chances of encountering one of these Old Testament monsters was slim until we were joined one morning on safari by an elderly American gentleman, who told us that his jeep had disturbed one slithering along a path the previous day. The mamba had apparently reared up in front of the windscreen and shot along the length of the jeep, narrowly missing the left shoulder of our witness. Even our ranger said he was scared of the black mamba. I thought of Dr Douglas Hamilton, living for years out here with his family in the barest of accomodation.

Hello Mr President
When we eventually did set out to leave again, the water subsided sufficiently for us to leave. There was one other obstacle blocking our path at the entrance to the National Park. There were army trucks and scary guys with guns, and some kind of motorcade. It turned out to be the president of Tanzania himself on an official visit. His name is Jakaya Mrisho Kikwete. Mr President, I hope you have had the chance, like us, to stay at the Lake Manyara Tree Lodge. I don’t know too much about you; but from what I have seen so far, you preside over one of the most beautiful and important parts of Africa. I hope to be back many, many times.

Our verdict
Lake Manyara Tree Lodge is an excellent choice to accompany a visit to one of the other &Beyond destinations in Tanzania, such as the Ngorongoro Crater Lodge. It’s not a stereotypical safari experience with lots of big cats jumping around, but it will appeal to the connoisseur, especially those who love exotic bird life.

How we got there
We flew London to Nairobi on British Airways Club World and stayed overnight at the Norfolk Hotel before flying to Kilimanjaro, Tanzania on Air Kenya. We flew round three destinations in Tanzania on Regional Air. We stayed two nights at Lake Manyara Tree Lodge. For more information on this destination, please visit www.ccafrica.com.

Our ratings for Lake Manyara Tree Lodge
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Service
****
Dining
*****
Location
****

Click here for the Lake Manyara Photos

One & Only Reethi Rah

Mon, 27 Nov 2006 20:20:19 +0000

Who dreamed this up? A work of fiction, magical realism, set in the Indian Ocean. Welcome to the One & Only's Reethi Rah, an artificial paradise for the well-to-do and occasionally famous, a fantasy conjured up from an architect’s pen, six kilometres of white sandy shoreline rounded off with twelve hand-carved beaches. Without the pleasure of an introduction, I'm calling the mysterious author of Reethi Rah 'Slartibartfarst', in honour of the dull old chap in the 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' who turns out to have created the Earth for some rich clients, and who is terribly proud of his award-winning fjords in ('what was it called?) Norway.

Perfect

Maldives veterans will, of course, point out that Reethi Rah is not entirely a work of the imagination; from a small strip of land in the east side of the North Male atoll, about 35 kilometres from the capital, it was dramatically enlarged, reclaimed from the lagoon, with thousands of tons of sand. Now it's perfect - in the way that a Pixar animation is perfect, or a tailored Gucci suit, or an Aston Martin. It's close to the last word in manufactured holiday paradises, something which many will find objectionable in this fragile part of the world. The rights and wrongs are a subject for another article, not this one. We are going to dive deep into the Reethi Rah experience; fact or fiction, dream or reality, it occupies a bright corner of my mind.

Arrival
From the moment we step onto the neat One & Only yacht in Male harbour, we are inside the Reethi Rah universe. Four stewards in smart white costumes greet us offering drinks. It is raining as we motor towards the island. We scramble onto the top deck and enjoy getting wet as the Indian Ocean opens up in front us of. An hour passes before we approach the harbour of Reethi Rah itself. After a swift check-in, we are on our way to the water villa in one of the nippy beach buggies used to ferry guests around the island. We pass a couple heading in another direction - a young chap with floppy hair and his very blonde partner. 'Roger Federer', says KB, ever-observant. The current champion has just finished one of the most successful seasons in tennis history, so where better to head after that than Reethi Rah? There is talk later about Alonso, the racing driver, being on the island; but I wouldn't know what he looks like.

The water villa

It takes about ten minutes of racing across the white tracks of the island before we have our first glimpse of the water villa. It's a great sight. The villa is one of four sharing a stretch of the lagoon, but there's plenty of room for everyone. Our 'butler' is at the door to greet us. His name is Kebaso (probably the wrong spelling) and he's from Kenya. That's unusual. Almost all of the staff are boys from one Maldives island or another. He shows us round our new home. Let's start outside. In front of the villa is a set of steps leading down to a four metre long sun-deck which sits out in the lagoon. There is a parasol and two loungers. It looks like a spot you could spend all day quite contentedly. Just above the sun-deck, suspended along the front of the villa, is a wide area of heavy netting, also designed for lounging. The water of the lagoon looks irresistible, and already we can see assorted marine life darting around. Moving inside the villa, it's very hard not to be impressed. At the centre of the main living-sleeping area, two large beds look out to the lagoon. There is a terrific sound system which connects painlessly to an iPod. But the prize for best feature has to go to the bathroom, which occupies at least one third of the villa. A huge sunken bath is by the window, in front of two ample sink areas and a separate shower room. I shudder to think how much the Reethi Rah bathroom would cost in London, if you had enough millions to afford one this size!

One of the great aspects of a Maldives holiday is that it appeals equally to the indolent and the somnolent as it does to the spirited and the effervescent. You can sit by the lagoon all day, perhaps taking the occasional dip, or you can charge around on all kinds of activities, from deep-sea diving to water skiing to para-sailing to semi-professional fishing. We did a bit of both.

Swimming with fishes
Swimming in the lagoon doesn't require much skill or even fitness, but it is tremendous fun. Critics of Reethi Rah will tell you that there isn't much to see in the surrounding waters, especially compared to some of the more distant islands which exist closer to the state nature intended. This may have been true in the very early days of the island, but when we visit it seems like the lagoon is filling up quite nicely. Every day we put on the flippers and head thirty metres out from the villa. From there we float around as shoals of blue and yellow fish swim by. For a Maldives first-timer, it is just magical. I'm sure you can see much more on some of the other islands; but we observe a large variety of marine life including some of the bigger species - stingray, cuttle fish and black-tipped sharks about the size of a human arm.

Flying high

We also sample the more adventurous side of the island. KB chooses para-sailing and I go for a lesson in water-skiing. We are keen to try the day's fishing at sea, but, given the cost of everything else on Reethi Rah, it's one expense we can live without. KB's para-sailing proves to be worth every penny. Strapped into the harness, he floats off into the wind as we speed away in the power boat. He tells me later it feels like falling backwards with nothing to support you. Suspended happily for about fifteen minutes below the parachute, he is gradually hauled back in by our crew and lands with a little bump. I also land with a bump during my water-skiing lesson, but it's not quite so controlled. Never having given this sport more than a moment's consideration in my life, I have no idea of the techniques required to be a good water-skier. My tutor is a friendly, enthusiastic islander who takes us out some distance to the open ocean before he tells me it's time to practice skiing on the harness attached to the side of the boat. It's all in the knees, and the elbows, he tells me. Keep the latter open and the former gently bent. OK, I can do this, I think, expecting him to start very gently. He roars off at such a pace that I immediately fall backwards into the water. What a flop! After a couple more failed attempts, my teacher thinks I am making progress. He urges me to make one last big effort. Sure enough, I am still on my feet as he races away, my arms are loose, and - hey - I'm skiing! What I'm not prepared for is the amount of spray which hits my face and my eyes. I can't see, my senses are confused. My knee straightens involuntarily, and before I know anything else, I am flying backwards for what seems like a very long time before landing in the blue ocean with a great crash. My water-skiing adventure is over, and it's time to head back to the safety of the lagoon despite my resident expert encouraging me to return the next day.

Dining
Dinner on Reethi Rah is special every night of our visit. There are four choices: the main restaurant which serves Asian-fusion dishes, a very chic Japanese sushi joint, Lebanese dining on the beach, and the in-room service. On the last night, we opt for a second serving of sushi, sipping cold saki on the terrace as a spectacular night falls. The dining highlight, however, is probably the lively wine-tasting evening we attend, which seems to be overrun by Brits (there's a surprise). The Italian head sommelier on Reethi Rah has an excellent cellar of 9000 wines from all over the world. He leads an entertaining wine tasting quiz, which we get as hilariously wrong as everyone else. Our host assures us that he has pulled the same tricks on some of the world's leading wine experts, who apparently have just as much difficulty distinguishing between basic types of grape. We share the fun and humiliation with a jolly couple on honeymoon from York and a somewhat mysterious husband and wife from St Petersburg, the latter dark and movie-star beautiful. She sells us on a cultural visit to their home town. We decide not to take the buggy home that night and stagger back along the beaches to our water villa. I'm not sure I would have made it on my own.

Thunder

On the second night, there is a thunderstorm like I have never heard or seen before. It happens in the middle of the night. It may be the world ending, for all I know. I feel genuinely humbled by the power of nature, and oddly safe inside this wooden structure. I reflect on the awesome nature of the problems facing the Maldives from global warming over the next forty years. According to some of the local literature in the villa, there exist the beginnings of a plan, which seems to involve a lot more of Reethi-Rah style engineering - reclaiming islands which lie on the higher ground. Before you ask, the irony of the fact that we did get to Reethi Rah by burning huge amounts of CO2 did not escape me. There are no easy answers to these questions. It's hard to see how the islands could continue to have a viable economic future without tourism. But as I said, such issues for another place.

Chilling out

One of the most satisfying aspects of Reethi Rah is that it’s a great place to read. I came here after finishing one job, and a few weeks before starting another - a perfect time and place to delve into other worlds. I manage to get all the way through Bob Woodward's great slab of a book, 'State of Denial' about the management of the Iraq war, the grotesque stories made all the starker by the peace and remoteness of our surroundings. And then it's time to leave. Kebaso comes to pick us up. He gets a good tip for looking after us well. All the staff are polite and attentive, putting youths their age in our own country somewhat to shame.
Time to go

We head back to the harbour and the trim cruiser which awaits to take us back to Male. The white-costumed staff greet us with drinks and - this time - excerpts from western newspapers, as if to give us a gentle jolt back to our troubled world. The International Herald Tribune, dipping into celebrity news for once, reports that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes have cut short their honeymoon in the Maldives because of the heavy rain. Can this be true? What were you thinking of, Tom-Kat? You should have been tucked up inside a Reethi Rah water villa, like us, instead of bobbing around on that movie star boat the whole time!
Gradually, Reethi Rah fades from view behind us, now just a series of digital impressions, a daytime reverie, a mere possibility of an island.

How we got there
Before leaving Reethi Rah, I have to say a word or three about Qatar Airways. We travelled to Male via Doha, spending three nights at the excellent Four Seasons hotel. KB got some kind of deal from our grateful travel agent to go first class on the Doha leg, a journey which has the distinction of being the first flight which I would have quite happily continued for a bit longer. It's not just the brand-new A340-600, the wonderfully roomy seating areas, or the widescreen entertainment systems, or the chic on-board lounge, or the Montrachet Premier Cru on tap which makes Qatar First a stand-out. It's - above all - the terrific service from the Qatar crew, unknown, in our experience, on western airlines. Special mention must go to Christina, a Malaysian Chinese stewardess who made us all feel right at home. And if you want to feel like a real VIP, make sure you get a ticket to the new Premium Class Terminal in Doha. We were there in the week that it opened, and it is a quantum leap beyond anything which is available in Europe.

View from the Four Seasons, Doha

Our ratings for Reethi Rah
1-5 stars

Accomodation
*****
Service
****
Dining
****
Location
*****

Our ratings for Qatar Airways
1-5 stars

Seating
*****
Service
*****
Dining
****
Lounges
*****
Ground staff
****

Click here for the Reethi Rah Gallery

Angkor, Cambodia

Wed, 25 Oct 2006 19:20:03 +0100

By KB. Having popped back to Kuala Lumpur to visit mum and dad, I was asked by mum if I wanted to make a side-trip to Cambodia to visit Angkor. Naturally, I said yes – especially as we were going to get free flights from Malaysia to Siem Reap courtesy of my brother who works for Air Asia (Malaysia’s low-cost carrier – “Now Everyone Can Fly !”)

Arriving in Siem Reap, its clear that Angkor is no longer off the beaten track. Multiple hotels line the main roads and tourist buses cause mini traffic jams in town. I was anxious that the main temple sites of Angkor outside Siem Reap would be overrun but fortunately our guide planned a circuit of the temples specifically to avoid the crowds. It did however, mean that we drew up to the Angkor Wat in the full glare of the midday sun.

Angkor Wat
It's an unbelievable monument ! Generally considered to be the world’s largest religious edifice, Angkor Wat itself doesn’t disappoint. Built by King Suryavarman II in the 12th century, the silhouette of the Hindu temple is instantly recognisable when you pull up to it. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Angkor Thom
Its difficult to imagine a city of 1 million inhabitants in the 12th century (as a comparison the population of London reached the million mark around 1800). There are several gates to the ancient city entered through causeways which are lined by angels and demons. Modern day tourists can choose to enter the city on elephants but we took the air-conditioned option of our Toyota minivan.

Bayon

Angkor Thom was established by King Jayavarman VII in the twelfth century and at its centre lies the Bayon temple. In contrast to Angkor Wat, Bayon is a Buddhist monument and again, strangely familiar. (I think I must have watched too many travel programmes on the Discovery channel!)

More temples and Tonle Sap lake
We spend a few more days exploring the large numbers of temples in the region (wish I could remember the names of them !). Many of them have beautiful carvings of apsaras or ‘celestial maidens’. We also spend an afternoon on Tonle Sap lake visiting the floating villages on the lake.

Cambodian food
Yummy ! Cambodian food resembles Thai food but is less spicy. They seem to use coconut milk more liberally in their food in comparison with the Thais. In particular, I got hooked on the coconut ice-creams / sorbets.

How we got there
We flew from Kuala Lumpur to Siem Reap on Air Asia and stayed in Siem Reap for 4 nights. Our hotel (the Preah Khan hotel) was a nondescript 4 star hotel full of Korean and Japanese tour groups.

Our ratings for Angkor
1-5 stars

Accomodation
**
Service
***
Dining
***
Location
*****

Click here for the Angkor Gallery

Iguazu Falls

Mon, 3 Apr 2006 19:32:39 +0100

I’m always fascinated by ugly towns: Chongqing, Nairobi, Detroit, Dundee. They’re ugly because they are (or have been) centres of industrial-economic activity: working towns. They may not have a Hyde Park or a Champs Elysee, but if you scratch just a little beneath the surface of an ugly town, you’ll find hidden treasures, quirky stuff which doesn’t exist anywhere else. For example, next time you’re in Detroit, check out the Cadieux Cafe, one of the last places in the United States where you can play authentic Belgian feather bowling and enjoy a bowl of steamed mussels at the same time.

Foz do Iguaçu
Given my enthusiasm for ugly towns, you can imagine my joy at landing on the Brasil-Argentina border. We are on our way to the Parque Nacional do Iguaçu, and its magnificent falls, the world’s biggest. But forget that. I want to head downtown - to Foz do Iguaçu, the town of 300,000 people which sits, as the name implies, at the mouth of the river. Due to its busy industrial past, this town is a heady mixture of Arabs, Chinese, Germans, Italians, Lebanese, Paraguayans, Argentinians, Palestinians, French, Swedes, Portuguese and Ukrainians. Now there has to be something fun going on here. I have visions of a small, smoky club - like the one I went to in Rio - where you can listen to Bossa Nova and drink one of those industrial Brasilian liquors all night. So on our first night, we ask our guide to take us to the heart of the action. He thinks for a time and then comes up with the answer. There is a great show, he tells us, in town which is a celebration of the three nations which are joined at this spot on the continent: Brasil, Argentina and Paraguay. Ok, it sounds promising, we agree. But first dinner. I know just what you’re looking for, says our driver. We can see the city about a mile ahead of us. Then he turns off in what looks like an area which has been faithfully recreated from one of those ‘business districts’ on the outskirts of your average American town: all shopping malls and warehouses. It turns out we are going for a Chinese buffet. In the city which has more Chinese people than almost anywhere in Brasil, this might have been fun. But it’s not. It’s one of those plastic places designed exclusively for tourists, with plastic food to match. I shudder to think what kind of journey this ‘cuisine’ has taken to reach us.

Fun in Foz

OK, the food wasn’t up to much, but now for the show. Our driver doesn’t get any closer to the city. Instead he gets further away. Now we are in an even darker district, with fewer street lights, and big old ugly hotels on both sides of a large freeway. We turn into one, and I start to fear the worst. We enter a large auditorium which must hold about a thousand people. The trouble is, there are only about a hundred here tonight. Then the curtains open, and what follows is one of the worst-best evening’s entertainment I have ever had. Yes, it is a ‘celebration’ of the cultures of the three countries, but one which might have been conceived by Roger De Bris, the hapless director from Mel Brooks’ ‘The Producers’. The opening is priceless: three of our dancer-entertainers glide on stage balanced on top of what looks like a small set of aircraft steps. In fact, that’s exactly what it is! The trio are dressed in the official outfits of the three national airlines, waving and smiling with an authentic degree of inanity. I start to get annoyed. My one night downtown in Foz Do Iguacu will not be spent listening to a sweet Bossa Nova singer, getting drunk on cahacha. Instead, I have two hours of low-end tourist tack ahead of me. The show gets worse. But as it gets worse, I regain my sense of humour. It’s getting camper and camper. At the end, I’m in sitches as the entire cast take to the stage for a Brasilian samba, many of them wearing little more than carefully placed feathers. They start to invite members of the audience up on stage to dance with them. One girl with an especially large feather lands on me. How can I refuse? She smiles broadly at me and winks. Maybe this is some kind of self-knowing parody designed to send up the watching tourists as much as anything else. I laugh my head off as the curtain comes down.

Did you have fun? Our driver is anxious to know. Oh yes, oh yes, is all I can say as we speed towards our hotel. It’s no later than 9.30 and our evening is over.

Das Cataratas Hotel
It’s over because there is precisely nothing to do at our hotel. We thought we were doing very well to get a booking at Das Cataratas, the only hotel actually inside the national park. It’s positioned right at the edge of the Falls, a genuinely spectacular spot, and the handsome pink building looks every inch the grand colonial residence. The truth is somewhat more prosaic. This hotel has clearly seen better days, and is in need of serious investment. The standard rooms are threadbare and uncomfortable, and the dining is second or third rate. There is a pleasant pool area, where one could easily spend several hours with a good book (I did). But the rest of it leaves a great deal to be desired.

The Falls

But the reason we’ve flown from one end of Argentina to the other is not to stay here. It’s to see the world’s largest falls. The trouble is that, even though the hotel is in the Falls national park, we have to travel back to the Argentine side, an ugly trip which takes more than an hour, to get to the Falls themselves. On the first day we go, there is a horrible accident on the narrow road which runs to the border, and we hear that a party of French tourists has been seriously injured.

As for the Falls themselves, what can I say that so many have not said before me? Yes, they are spectacular. Yes, I’m glad I went. But I didn’t get that same sense of awe and wonder as I did when facing the Victorian Falls in Zambia. The smoke thunders at the Iguazu Falls too, but not with the same mystery and magic (for me) as it does in the heart of Africa.

Border Town
On the way back to the airport, Foz do Iguaçu fades into the distance behind us. I ponder on what bizarre set of circumstances it would take for me to be back here ever again. What business might I have in this strange old town? As we approach the border crossing, there is a huge billboard for the vast duty-free shopping paradise just over the border in Paraguay. Apparently it’s legendary across Latin America. Our driver tells us the neighbouring towns on the Argentine and Brasilian side aren’t at all happy with this development as it takes a lot of business from them. Their citizens can be seen carting piles of ersatz Swiss watches and cheap DVD players back across the border every weekend. Could this be the first serious diplomatic incident, I wonder, over fake Gucci handbags?

How we got there
We flew on Austral (Aerolineas Argentinas) from Buenos Aires to Iguazu and stayed at the Tropical Das Cataratas for three nights. The Austral trip on an MD11 was ‘standard’ but with a good level of basic service.

Our ratings for Iguazu Falls & Tropical Das Cataratas Hotel
1-5 stars

Accomodation
**
Service
**
Dining
**
Location
*****

Los Notros, Patagonia

Thu, 30 Mar 2006 19:32:47 +0100

If I had to choose one place to be at the end of the world, it would be here. I would stand and watch the last glacier on earth crash into Lago Argentino, leaving the mountains of Patagonia up to their necks in cold water - long, long after our civilisation has become flooded and empty. The idea of Perito Moreno being the last glacier is not so fanciful. It’s only one of three in Patagonia which, in 2007, is not retreating. If the worst predictions about climate change are true, then this could well be one of the last to fall. Its relative stability does not stop some mammoth pieces of ice breaking off every couple of years. Just a few days before we arrived, this was reported by the Associated Press:

BUENOS AIRES, Argentina (AP) - A vast Patagonian glacier shed a 60-meter (200-foot) wall of ice with a roar during the night, sending debris plunging into a lake in southern Argentina as hundreds of tourists struggled to watch in the dark.
About 400 tourists were on hand when the Perito Moreno ice bridge collapsed, a phenomenon that has been repeated every few years. This time, cameras were unable to capture the final crack late Monday night.
Carlos Corvalan, supervisor at Los Glaciares National Park, said a section of ice had been showing signs it was ready to fall for three days before it finally gave way at 10:55 p.m. (0155 GMT).
Corvalan told the independent Diarios y Noticias news agency that many spectators had been keeping a round-the-clock vigil, sleeping in their cars at an overlook. Although it was a cloudy night with visibility obscured, he said the booming sound of cracking ice could be heard for kilometers (miles).
"It was quite a sonorous event, quite impressive," Corvalan said.

Seeing Perito Moreno

Now, two weeks later, we are standing across from the Perito Moreno glacier in bright sunlight. Now and again, small (by comparison) chunks of ice crash into Lago Argentino. It is quite something just to be this close to such an awesome natural phenomenon. Deep within its blue veins, could there be something magical - Superman’s secret hideaway, perhaps? We could stand there all day, but it’s time to head back the short distance to the Los Notros hotel.

I should emphasise the word ‘short’. It only takes about fifteen minutes to retreat to Los Notros, the only hotel within Los Glaciares National Park. This is a tremendous privilege. All other visitors must make a journey by road lasting at least an hour to reach Perito Moreno. The wooden lodge of Los Notros sits high on a slope looking directly at the glacier just a short distance away. The view from our bedroom window the next morning (above) has to speak entirely for itself.

Challenge
“Aren’t you going on the Big Ice?’

The hotel manager’s words are seriously probing.

“Well, I thought I’d go for the, um, Regular Ice.”

She stares back at me, seriously unimpressed. The issue is that I have chosen to go on the excursion to Perito Moreno designed for the, well, less energetic visitors.

“But you are young. You should do the Big Ice!”

This lady has hit the right buttons: she’s playing to my vanity and male pride. So I’m still young, (41 this year), sure I can do the Big Ice!!

The Big, Big Ice

A day later, we are standing on the very edge of the Big Ice itself after a demanding two hour march across the National Park. There are only a dozen of us, and I am indeed the oldest one. I glance across to the far side of the glacier, where it gently slopes upwards from the earth, rather than rising violently as it does in front of us here. I can see a party of slow-moving visitors descending from a bus and stepping gingerly onto the glacier. It’s the Regular Ice party. I’m glad that I’ve made this decision - because of that vanity and male pride.

Then the fun starts. It’s time to put on the crampons. We have three expert guides with us who are excellent. They tell us the trick is to walk like a penguin. This is much more difficult than it sounds. You have to concentrate with each step, or you might be in trouble. We have about five minutes of practice on flat ice before reaching our first slope. It’s then you realise how important it is to do the penguin walk. Keep your knees bent, your weight upright, and crunch with every step, or you could - at best - end up with a face full of hard ice, or - at worst, with several parts of your body seriously broken.

Two hours pass. The slopes have become steeper and more complex. The really tricky parts come when we have to navigate a steep downward path to a narrow crevice, then leap across to a sharp incline, gain a firm footing and then march up again. I become more and more convinced, the deeper and deeper we go, that I am not going to get out of here without breaking something. Oh for that Easy Peasy Ice now! I stupidly ask one of our weather-worn young guides if anyone has broken a limb. He tells me the story of a teenager who went over on his ankle and couldn’t move. There are no helicopters available for airlifts here - if they could land. It took them eight hours to stretcher him back to base. Ouch.

We stop for lunch in the middle of a deep cut in the surface of the ice, an area which looks like it has been scooped out with a giant spoon. Sitting about twenty feet below the top of the glacier, we sit and marvel at the shapes and colours around us - that strange glacier blue - the little streams running here and there. It’s time to move on again. There is one more challenge to my rapidly crumbling male vanity and pride before we start to head back.

It’s the most spectacular spot we have reached: below us is another gorge in the glacier; our task is, once again, to edge our way down to the lowest point, jump across and start climbing again. The difference this time is that there is a running stream at the bottom leading to a sink-hole - a gap in the ice of about fifteen feet in diameter where the water tumbles into infinity.

One of our brilliant guides is standing by the sink-hole to hold on to each visitor while we look down. I am about half way down the queue. Everyone else has made it more or less intact and is now climbing the other side. I keep my penguin walk going steady right to the last step, and then start to feel my balance going. Instinctively, I push one leg out to balance myself, then realise I am going the other way. So I push back - right into the arms of our guide who grabs me with all the strength he can muster and utters a small cry of genuine concern. Without him there, I would probably have disappeared down that sink-hole forever.

There are about another two hours before we reach terra firma again. It’s been about six since we set off. I feel great waves of relief when we reach the point where the crampons can come off. It’s been once of those experiences that you are really glad to have completed, but will probably not want to do again. Our young crowd have really bonded in these six short hours. We swap email addresses like old friends and go our separate ways - mercifully all in one piece.

What a day.

Torrentes, essentially Argentinian

Cut to eight o’clock that night. We are sitting in the comfortable dining room at Los Notros, a restaurant with one of the best views in the world. An impressively cosmopolitan young man is recommending some Argentine wines. We have already ordered the Patagonian lamb. Having gorged on some exquisite Malbecs in Buenos Aires, we are looking for something just a little different.

And our guy delivers. He orders up a very fine Torrontes, a grape now more or less unique to Argentina. This is how welcomeargentina.com describes it:

“Torrontés has turned into the symbolic white grape of Argentina, its unquestionable representative in the international market. This grape is part of the criollo vines. Of doubtful origin, recent research has proved it comes from Malvasia, in the Mediterranean area. Its recognition is the result of wines produced in the Valley of Cafayate, in Salta. It is due to the microclimate of this area that the grapevine has had an exceptional development, thus giving origin to fruity, tasty wines with a long aftertaste.”

I love that bit about its origin being doubtful, somewhat mysterious, like the subject of one of Borges’ detective stories. It is the perfect unusual end to one of the most unusual days of my life.

We head upstairs to the room. The curtains are open. Perito Moreno stares back at us, quietly, gently mocking me for my absurd attempts to conquer it today. For something so immense, so seemingly permanent, how strange to recall the intrinsically temporal nature of this natural phenomenon. And how disturbing to realise that the northern cousins of the Perito Moreno are already crumbling into the sea. One day, who knows when, the melting glaciers will take us along with them.

The verdict

If there is one hotel in the world I would choose to pay over $2,000 dollars to stay in for three nights, it would be Los Notros. Its status as the only hotel in the Los Glaciares National Park, with that stunning position overlooking Perito Moreno, push it to top spot for me. Having lunch on the terrace, on a bright, sharp autumn day, is a moment to remember for the rest of your life.

How we got there
We flew Iberia Business Plus from Madrid to Buenos Aires, then Aerolineas Argentinas to Calafate. For more information, visit www.iberia.com and www.aerolineas.com.ar.

Our ratings for Los Notros
1-5 stars

Accomodation
*****
Service
*****
Dining
*****
Location
****** (yes, six stars)

Click here for the Los Notros Photo Gallery

The Faena, Buenos Aires

Wed, 22 Mar 2006 19:33:30 +0000

In a city which is know for its magical realism, the Faena Hotel & Universe is, in many ways, the ultimate location. Just a few miles from where Borges wrote about fantastical other worlds - some fiction, some fiction within fiction - the Faena is almost certainly on another planet, although which one I’m not entirely sure. If this all sounds too fanciful, then you must level the same charge at Phillipe Starck, the creative mind of the Faena. Hotel and Universe. It sounds absurd, but once you step inside, to the long hallway known as ‘The Cathedral’, you understand immediately what old Phil was trying to achieve. The Faena is a universe composed of many different worlds, each of them unique and unforgettable.

Surreal Experience

Let’s start with the surreal dining experience. It’s Day Two of our five-night stay at the Faena, and we are sitting in shimmering white and gold of the ‘Bistro’. Four white unicorn heads stare back at me from the wall opposite. Two massive crystal chandeliers look as if they are suspended by magic in the centre of the ceiling. The room is so white that it should be overpowering. If you ever made it to Heaven, you can imagine it would look something like this. I say ‘should be’, because it is not overpowering or tacky or over the top. Somehow Starck has managed to overdose on his imagination without ending up with something which should be in Las Vegas.

We move to the next world down the hall for the evening’s entertainment. ‘El Cabaret’ is a treat in deep red, black and gold. Instantly we are plunged into the intoxicating atmosphere of old Buenos Aires, and a professional tango performance which has the authentic sensuality of real lovers who just can’t get enough of each other. Then it’s time to retire to the ‘Library Lounge’ for a nightcap. It has the look of an Edwardian salon in a thoroughly modern setting. Groups of the Buenos Aires smart set crowd around the ample sofas, laughing and smiling at each other as if only they existed in their own little universe.

Belle Epoque
Finally we drag ourselves upstairs to our room, a modest one by Faena standards. According to the hotel’s own literature, each room is ‘infused with the romance and decadence of la belle epoque’. Whatever that means, it’s all very white and red again - reminiscent of the Bistro - with enough mirrors to make even Paris Hilton feel a little self-conscious.

Pool Party
The next morning we are out at the pool-side with the beautiful folk. There is some unspoken competition going on here for the best body and the skimpiest swimming costume. I am relieved to be an observer rather than a participant. This feels like the kind of place where movie stars go to escape from public view, but still let it all hang out - Beverly Hills by the River Plate.

More discrete, more secluded is the fabulous Hammam at the Faena, a contemporary recreation of the steam-filled delights of old Arabia. Sitting on white marble in the misty half-light of the Hammam, it’s easy to forget where in the world you are. The Faena takes elements of different cultures and histories and mixes them up into a bewitching cocktail.

I could go on for several thousand more words. True to its imaginative roots, the Faena deserves its own novel. Maybe that’s a sponsorship idea for Alan Faena, the local Buenos Aires entrepreneur who persuaded Philippe Starck to venture south for this unique project, and who is now remaking large parts of the refurbished docklands of the city in his own name.

Eating, eating & eating
M Starck, according to one of the ‘experience managers’ at the Faena, likes to dine at a BA institution which hasn’t changed much in decades. It’s El Obrero in the working class, inner city neighbourhood of Boca. Bono (of course!) has also known to have dined at El O. On the night we visit, there are no celebrities (although Starck may well have been sitting at the table next to us, as I have absolutely no idea what he looks like). In fact, there don’t appear to be any tourists either. It’s a Tuesday night, all the streets of Boca seem to be pitch black. However, inside the restaurant, it’s like stepping into a living tableau of the city. Soccer flags and pictures cover the walls of the large salon. This district is the home of Boca Juniors, after all, as famous a team here as Liverpool in Europe. There is a match on several television screens, with a surprisingly understated commentator. Smoke is everywhere in the air, so unusual now to European senses. No one pays any attention to us. Then I notice a table in the far corner which has a big cardboard notice with my name on it. We sit down somewhat hesitantly, and are approached by a smiling middle-aged waitress who has clearly been here for decades. There is no English, no concession to tourists here, and that’s a good thing. What follows is two hours of hearty River Plate peasant food and a bottle of very decent table wine, a Malbec naturally, in a rich atmosphere that I could have soaked in for days. I loved this place. Good choice, er, Bono.

The other two restaurants we visit, like the Faena, represent the contemporary Buenos Aires. One is Sucre, which is a cavernous, ultra-modern place in the Belgrano district, which appears to be in the middle of nowhere. It takes us forever to get there from the Faena, and we’ve missed our table. So they put us out on the pavement! So all we can do is look longingly through the glass at the fashionable young set dining in the chic, faux-industrial surroundings of Sucre. Once again, we did have a very excellent Malbec to take the pain away. The final dining experience is no letdown whatsoever. Bar Uriarte, from the same people who are behind Le Sucre, is in the funky area of Palermo Soho. Like its sister, the kitchen at Uriarte is very prominent, but the decor is very different. With loads of long, comfy sofa space, where you can eat if you so choose, Uriarte is all about indulgent urban dining (pizzas!) in an ultra-laid back environment.

Passionate Palermo

A colourful rooftop cafe in Palermo

I’ve been going on and on about dining in Buenos Aires. But that’s appropriate for this most physical, sexy and sensual of cities. On our walk from the Faena through the new docklands developments, young couples cram the benches. They look so into one another. If you want to hear, see, smell, touch, and taste the essence of this magical place, head for the Palermo district, the old Italian neighbourhood where Borges himself grew up behind iron gates and cultivated one of the most extraordinary imaginations the world has ever seen. I could live in Palermo. With its trendy boutiques, fabulous little cafes and book stores, and multi-coloured buildings, Palermo is everything that the so-called ‘fashionable’ areas of our European cities are just aching (but mostly failing) to be. If I ever get tired of old London town, I may well decide to lead an alternate existence here. As it stands, I have a beautiful brown suede jacket to remind me of Palermo.

The old town looks the same

As we discovered in Boca, the old BA is alive and well, living happily alongside the striking new creations of Faena and his generation. On our last full day, a Sunday, we discover the old downtown market in San Telmo, which is full of genuine treasures such as galleries selling the creations of up and coming BA artists. The tat is also fun. I am nearly persuaded to buy a t-shirt which features a cartoon of Maradona punching the ball past England’s Peter Shilton during the 1986 World Cup - La Mana De Dios.

Back at the hotel, the fallen star is on television - as an overweight spectator at the local derby between Boca and River Plate. I think about getting tickets for the game, but am quietly informed that attending this fixture is not for neutrals, the faint-hearted, or foreigners. Maradona is shown celebrating wildly as Boca score. He has no shirt on and looks horribly unwell. I recall a friendly fixture at Hampden Park, Glasgow, in 1979, which I watched as a fourteen-year-old, as a dazzling, unknown teenage newcomer ripped Scotland’s defence to pieces in a 3-1 victory.

He’s still with us - only just - after his much-reported serious heart problems. But his city is very much alive, reborn, in fact, after the financial calamities of a few years ago. The Hand of God must have helped to fashion this wonderful city, and has returned to remake it for the twenty first century.

The verdict
There is only one thing I want to say about Buenos Aires, the Faena and everywhere else we visited: I can’t wait to get back. I must also give a mention to the little town of Colonia, which sits an hour across the River Plate, just over the border in Uruguay. If you want an antidote to the intoxicating city, head for Colonia. It’s a charming, chilled-out little town which has long been loved by the ‘turn on, tune out’ hippy contingent. There is some amazing art for sale on the old, cobbled streets near the river, some excellent restaurants, and the remains of one of the few genuine Spanish bull-rings in Latin America.

Sleepy, dreamy Colonia in Uruguay

How we got there
We flew Iberia Business Plus from Madrid to Buenos Aires. For more information, visit www.iberia.com.

Our ratings for Faena & Buenos Aires
1-5 stars

Accomodation
*****
Service
****
Dining
****
Location
****** (yes, six stars again!)

Click here for the Buenos Aires Photo Gallery

Xian, China

Sat, 16 Jul 2005 19:33:38 +0100

KB is always driven mad by those documentaries on satellite TV about Rome which refer to 'the greatest Empire the world has ever known'. The worst offender recently was the bombastic Boris Johnson in his BBC series on the glories and grandeur of the Romans. As an educated, worldy, Asian-born scientist, KB finds this kind of casual, narrow-minded claptrap infuriating; and who can blame him? By the time Julius Caesar was rolling around the Dordogne, the great Chinese Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi had been underground with his Terracotta Army for over 200 years, having created what was (and is) really the 'greatest empire the world has ever known' - with a culture, arts and sciences far ahead of anything which existed in 'the west'. The Romans were little more than a disciplined bunch of thugs who conquered most of the Med by being far more ruthless and savage than anyone before or since. If any town stood in its way, it would simply be eliminated - women, children, old people - it didn't matter to the Romans. In fact, it was an essential part of their way of doing business. Unlike the Greeks, they left little in the way of arts or culture which has lasted. There was no Roman Plato or Aristotle. The 'empire' of these ancestors of Tony Soprano is, in reality, a second-league player in the history of the world's great nations. Top of the list - in times past and to come - is the China created by Qin Shi Huangdi!

Emperor Qin
Old Qin didn't exactly have a great human rights record either. You couldn't forge an Empire of Ten Thousand Generations from several warring states without breaking a few heads. He was 38 when he became the First Emperor, and only lasted a decade in power before he died of mercury poisoning from taking pills which his doctors told him would guarantee immortality. He had a constant fear of death, apparently. Oops.

All the time he was Emperor, Qin was planning for the life to come. It was known when he died - or shortly afterwards - that Qin had forced 700,000 workers to toil ceaselessly in the creation of a subterranean city, a scale model of the palace, the empire, the world, filled with unimaginable treasures designed to keep Qin living (or 'after-living') in the manner he had become accustomed to. Automatic weapons were installed to thwart robbers, and the principal architects and builders walled up by Qin's successor to stop them spilling the beans on all of his secrets.

Qin's insane plan worked, and - to this day - his mausoleum remains undisturbed at the site roughly 35 kilometres from Xian. Even our technology has not been able to uncover his glories yet. But, quite by chance, we have uncovered parts of his secret army: the Terracotta Warriors.

Arriving
We have been in Xian for a couple of days before we head out of the city to the wilds of Shaanxi Province. Our guide in this city is a charming local girl who likes us to call her 'Sheryl'. We are staying at the Shangri-La in the centre of town. This is a modern, luxurious hotel which is extremely comfortable. We get upgraded to a suite which has both a lounge and a kitchen. On our first night, we head down to the bar, where the professional band is leading visitors in a karaoke. The Shangri-La is not the best hotel in town, but I would definitely recommend it for comfort and location.

The City of Xian
Like most of China, Xian is modernising and growing fast, but not in a way which neutralises or eliminates its rich history. You'd have to spend a lot more time here than we did to get under the skin of Xian; but thanks to our Sheryl, we had a brief but memorable visit.

Before Terracotta day, we spent time at the Big Goose Pagoda, the Buddhist temple which dates back to the seventh century; when Europe was largely rolling around in its own filth, the Chinese were building seven-storey temples designed to last thousands of years. And they have! It's quite an effort to get to the top, but worth it for a great view of the city. After a day walking around in the mid-summer heat, Sheryl took us to the perfect location: a Chinese foot spa. For just a few dollars, a polite and attentive local will give you the best foot bath you will ever have in your life. Sheryl sits in while I have mine, which is quite amusing. We ask our hostess for a dining spot which is not designed for tourists. She takes us to a big joint in the centre of town, where we order the local Chinese fortified wine. This stuff is so strong that I can only take a few sips of it. It must have been about 90% proof.

Just as well we didn't get dehydrated when we head out to the Terracotta Army. It is bloody hot here in July, and I'm smothered in 100% sun block. Thankfully, Sheryl is calm and in control.

The Terracotta Army

We drive to an area which looks like it is in the middle of nowhere. And it is. This was the spot where, in 1974 - with Mao still very much in power - the secret army of the first Qin Emperor was discovered. This is how UNESCO's world heritage site describes the find in a 1986 document:

In 1974, a chance discovery made the mausoleum of Qin Shi Huang one of the most famous archaeological sites in the world. While sinking a well 1.5 km from the exterior eastern wall of the mausoleum's inner room, three peasants from the small village of Yangeun-west came upon a pit in which there were life-size terracotta statues of warriors. Excavations were immediately begun. Pit no 1 contained a veritable army of 1,087 warriors, the infantry and cavalry corps standing in battle formation with archers protecting the flanks. Today it is estimated that there are a potential 6,000 statues of warriors and horses in that one pit alone, which has floored galleries 230m long. It is now entirely enclosed by the site museum inaugurated on 1 October 1979.

Today, it is estimated there are over 8,000 soldiers in the Terracotta Army. Just a thousand of them have been uncovered and stand proudly in three large, covered pits. Some have been restored from many hundreds of fragments. Visitors - some two millions a year - can't get too close to them. This is very much a working archeological area. Apart from the security of guarding these priceless artefacts, there is the constant battle against decay caused by pollution and oxidisation. To appreciate the army to the fullest extent, bring a pair of binoculars and study each warrior closely. You will see that each one of them is unique, said to be modelled on a real person. There are many terracotta horses with the army, most of them amazingly intact or restored. There is a museum next to the excavation sites, which contains some of the fabulous riches of the First Emperor. Most impressive is this solid gold chariot and four horses (below). Qin liked to travel in style.

The soldiers may be showcased more impressively when they make the occasional trip to museums abroad, as part of some clever Chinese diplomacy, but you have to see their astonishing home for yourself, out here in the centre of the Middle Kingdom, and marvel at what might be uncovered in the hundred years ahead of us. By that time, when China will be the world's biggest economy and power, once again the greatest empire the world has ever known.

As we head back to Xian, Sheryl tells us she is taking us to a show in town. Yes, it's a display for the tourists, but how can I refuse our delightful guide when she tells me firmly but politely, 'You will enjoy'.

Honoured Guests
The next morning, Sheryl comes to pick us up for the trip to Xian airport. She has with her a giant watermelon, a gift from her mother, in return for a gift we gave her for being such a great guide. We say, naturally, that we are 'very honoured', and find the will to devour this giant fruit before it's time to head for the airport. Watermelon has never tasted so sweet as it did here in the home of the First Emperor.

How we got there
We flew from Yichang to Xian on Hainan Airlines, www.hnair.com, which seemed to be an excellent and efficient service.

Our ratings for Shangri-La Hotel, Xian
1-5 stars

Accomodation
****
Service
****
Dining
***
Location
****

Grand Hyatt, Shanghai

Fri, 8 Jul 2005 19:33:42 +0100

Our guide has a smile so wide it’s uplifting just to look at her. ‘My name is Ping Ping. It means Safe Safe, or Double Safe.’ We’re in good hands for this visit to what will probably become the world’s most important city of the 21st century: Shanghai.

Our journey has been a good one, Virgin Atlantic Upper Class from Heathrow. It’s July the 8th, the morning of my fortieth birthday. I should be excited, thrilled even. It’s my first visit to China as well. And yet, we still can’t quite get over what we left behind in London: a city shattered by three bombs on public transport. Dozens of people are dead. We only just made it onto the flight. It’s hard to be having a good time.

Safe Safe
Thank goodness for Ping Ping. This girl has charisma. She is quite a saleswoman for her home town. ‘Shanghai is a wonderful city,’ she smiles at us as we race along a large, empty highway to the centre of the city.

The Jin Mao Tower

I am going to spend the first day of my fifth decade 74 storeys up. Welcome to the Grand Hyatt, Shanghai; reception is on the 53rd floor of the Jin Mao Tower, the crown jewel of the new Shanghai, the Pudong District.

This is a strange choice for someone who has developed an irritating aversion to heights which borders on vertigo. KB, however, is firmly in favour of aversion therapy, and I’m determined to go along with it. The first glance of the panoramic view of Shanghai from the 53rd floor will make you gasp. Sheer awe replaces any kind of fear. Then it’s up another 21 floors to our room. In this more enclosed space, I have to confess to being somewhat fearful of approaching the window. It seems beyond imagination that we will be sleeping soundly more than a thousand feet in the sky.

Pudong

Before dinner, we head down to the ground floor for a stroll around Pudong. It’s all brand new, bright and shiny, big and bold - just across the river from the old town. This is where Shanghai is building its world financial centre. At the end of this century, if we are still here, that’s almost certainly exactly what it will be. Old Europeans may not like what is being built in Pudong, massive temples serving international trade and business. But I find it oddly comforting, this confident vision of the future. It’s certainly a lot better than the alternative. We have a glimpse of that in the English-speaking Chinese newspapers. There has been some sabre-rattling between the US and China over Taiwan. The Pentagon has produced a report saying that China is a strategic threat to American interests. The Chinese, in the most understated diplomatic language, have called this remark ‘very rude’. We head down to the walkway that runs along the river, and stop off at a bar where we are greeted with a Busby-Berkeley-style line-up of stewards rushing forward to assist. It’s early evening, and we are the only people there.

We look across at the famous skyline of old Shanghai. I’m starting to feel this is a very special place and a very special day.

Soon it’s back to the Grand Hyatt and time for dinner at Club Jin Mao, very near the top of the 88-storey building. After a splendid meal of Shanghai delicacies, we move just one floor up to the very top for drinks at the Cloud 9 bar. The fashionable young people of Shanghai fill this extraordinary room. With floor to ceiling windows, it really does feel as if you are suspended in mid-air. We sit by the window and look out. A real cloud floats by. I’ve had too many cocktails to worry about anything now. It’s been one of the strangest 24 hours of my life. Midnight strikes. I am 40 and one day. It’s all downhill from here!

Now you will see the old Shanghai

Ping Ping is full of beans the next morning. After all those cocktails, I am feeling my age. It’s also extremely hot in the middle of Shanghai in July. Nevertheless, as we head across the river, I am excited about seeing the old city. We are heading for the Yuyuan Gardens, a 16th century Ming Dynasty paradise with gorgeous pavilions, rockeries, cloisters and gardens. To get to Yuyuan, you have to pass through a little shopping area which is packed with local people out for an afternoon stroll. Once inside, the Gardens are much quieter and amazingly beautiful. Apparently Yuyuan was built up a Ming government official to please his parents in old age. It was almost destroyed during the Opium Wars with the west, but painstakingly restored and re-opened by the communist government in 1961.

We work our way back through the crowds milling around the shops to our car. The sense of just shoals of people coming at you from everywhere, whizzing past at a hundred miles per hour, is with you all the time in Shanghai.

The next stop is the city’s famous Jade Buddha temple, although Ping Ping cheerfully informs us that, officially, the Chinese have ‘no beliefs’. Once inside, it’s clear that at least some people do have beliefs, as they sit praying at the feet of the main Buddha statue, almost two metres high made out of precious jade. There are a few different statues of Buddha here, my favourite being the Reclining Buddha, who looks very comfortable chilling out in his own hall.

Ye Shanghai
If you were going to live in Shanghai (which would be a great adventure for a few years), you would want to be in Xintiandi. This is the old French Quarter of the city, which has been transformed into a very fashionable, car-free district stuffed with galleries, cafes, great restaurants and beautifully restored stone houses. Property prices here are high even by western standards. We are dining in one of those chic places, called Ye Shanghai, known for its ‘inventive Shanghainese cooking’. We gorge ourselves on delicious prawns and duck in the bright upstairs dining room, while a jazz pianist tinkles away in the corner.

Out of town

Ping Ping is determined for us to see a more traditional way of life outside of the city, so we spend the next day travelling to the old village of Zhujiajiao about two hours from Pudong. Zhujiajiao is a well-preserved water town, which you can sail serenely through on a barge, under a series of bridges which date back to the Ming Dynasty in the 1500s. The narrow houses of Zhujiajiao close in on you from all sides, endless washing lines hang outside. This way of life seems almost untouched by all of the turbulence in China’s history over the past 200 years. I’m sure this is deceptive. We stop at a little tea shop along the way and drink a sweet, green concoction. The owner asks KB where his family is from. He replies Fujian Province. For the Chinese diaspora, the mother country is still ‘home’, even after a hundred years or so away from it.

We head back to Shanghai via the inevitable tourist shopping outlets. Ping Ping seems determined to take us there, so I get into the spirit and buy a wonderful black silk shirt with dragon patterns on it. This will go down a storm in Shoreditch! We also stop at a massive tea warehouse. Given my addiction to char, I can’t resist buying some splendid and pricey Chinese blends.

M on the Bund

Dinner that evening is special. It’s at M on the Bund, the legendary Eurasian location on Shanghai’s waterfront. M has become something of an institution in the city, even though it opened as recently as the late 1990s. You don’t come here for a taste of Shanghai. You come here for a wonderful view of the city, excellent modern European cuisine, and - above all - to celebrate Shanghai’s growing status as a world city. As a ‘thank you’ for being a wonderful guide, we invite Ping Ping and her friend, who speaks perfect English. A highly entertaining evening follows. After dinner, we sit on the terrace and soak in the view of Pudong across the river. Our temporary home on the 74th floor beckons.

On Day Three in the Jin Mao, I realise I am well on the way to conquering my fear of heights. KB’s aversion therapy is working! I understand this when I go to the superb gym and spa at the Grand Hyatt. I jump onto a running machine which is right by the window. You can’t see anything below you except air. It feels like your next step will take you right out into the sky. It’s fun!

Nanjing Road

It’s our last day in Shanghai, and time for some serious shopping. If the Chinese have ‘no belief’, they are crazy about retail! Nanjing Road is officially the longest shopping street in the world, and we walk most of the way along it on a wet day when - mercifully - the temperatures have dropped. It’s an experience in itself to walk along this street. My favourite is the multi-storied grocery selling the freshest local cuisine and, of course, tea. The manager of the tea department is like a French sommelier. She expertly brews several kinds to allow us to choose our favourites. I could stay there all day.

We also stop off at No 1 Department Store, which was one of the few places you could shop in Shanghai before the reforms. Now it’s stuffed full of goodies over 22 floors, but has retained its utilitarian communist name. It’s somehow strangely appropriate for the best-known store in what will become the world’s No 1 City.

Towards the end of the Nanjing Road, we reach our destination: the concert hall where we are going to see the local acrobats. I know this is something of a tourist cliche, but it’s in no sense a disappointment. The performers have the most amazing skills you will ever see on a live stage. How much dedication and training it requires to get to this level, I have no idea. I think it’s totally beyond the decadent west.

Leaving Shanghai
It’s time to for us to depart from this incredible city. We say goodbye to Ping Ping at the airport. She has been a fabulous ambassador for Shanghai, and highly entertaining to boot. What this city will be like when she reaches her fortieth birthday, I can only imagine. World City No 1.

How we got there
We flew Virgin Atlantic Upper Class from London Heathrow to Shanghai Pudong airport on July 8th, 2005. The service, with a mainly Asian crew, was excellent. We stayed at the Grand Hyatt for five nights.

Our ratings for Grand Hyatt, Shanghai
1-5 stars

Accomodation
*****
Service
****
Dining
****
Location
*****