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iCel ANd Where tWo continents collide

Dune buDDy

desert camping, Morocco style

Isl anD IDy l l discover thailand’s trangs

bonne nuI t, be l l e v Il l e

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InCReDIble

JoUrneYs for 2017

Paris after dark

ISSN 1449-3543

ArgentinA | AustrAliA | indiA | itAly | Mexico | tAiWAn | usA

88 Explore every corner of the globe on these six incredible journeys

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ArGENTINA

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IcELANd

Spot wild fauna on a patagonian road trip

ThAILANd There’s something special about Trang

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Morocco

Feel the power of this volatile isle

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Barefoot luxury in the Sahara’s shifting dunes

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AUSTrALIA Take the plunge with cuttlefish in Whyalla

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WorLd Eye-poppers from the best photographers

get in the know A storage tank full of molasses collapsed in Boston in 1919 flooding the streets and killing 21 people.

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contents

mera, 8 Olympus cares tour, 15 ntu Urban Adve ggage, 16 lu te Pakli ture, 44 Arctic adven

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Festival pArTy hArd IN MEMphIS

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like a local dELVE INTo MExIco cITy’S cooLEST ’hoodS 24 hoT FIVE

118 Food

Travel happenings around the globe

places to lurk near lava

catch your own snack in Taiwan

drink it down

16 hAppy SNApS

28 yoU WISh

120 phoToGrAphy

Shooting snaps under the sea

126 rEVIEWS

Kayaking Venice

30 GET pAcKING

122 TrAVEL JoB

12 oN ThE rAdAr

Send us your photos and win!

20 pLAcES To STAy The weird and wonderful

22 Top TrIpS

Get going in a group

An instant itinerary for India’s southwest

What happens when a doctor catches the travel bug?

124 BArS All the gadgets you’ll need

128 coNFESSIoNS

Take a chance on serendipity

32 AFTEr dArK

plant yourself on paris’s right Bank

get in the know The name Lucifer is a banned in New Zealand; in the state of Victoria you can’t call your child Satan.

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Frame your view winner

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here really is no experience like waking up and watching the sun rise over a beautiful landscape. The red soil and red rock of kata Tjuta really come alive at this time of day. This cluster of huge, domed rock formations, previously known as the olgas, is located in the southern part of the northern Territory in the heart of australia’s outback. The 36 towering mounds that make up the landmark are spread over an area of more than 20 kilometres and sprout from the earth just 30 kilometres from Uluru. The warm sunlight that spills over the domes saturates the colour and gives the rock face a fiery feel. Using a polarising filter helps the clouds pop out of the blue sky and creates a beautiful contrast with the land.

• canon eos 6D • canon eF 24–105mm f/4l is UsM at 67mm • iso 100, f/10, 1/20 sec Congratulations to Dave Pidgeon, who’s won an Olympus camera for entering this shot.

Think you’ve got a winner? send us your best travel photos for a chance to win an olympus oM-D e-M10 Mark ii, valued at aU$999, plus a double-page spread in the magazine! This stylish, compact, interchangeable-lens camera is perfect for travel. it has five-axis image stabilisation, built-in flash and a range of creative in-camera functions. olympus.com.au

To enter, send your photos to competitions@getlostmagazine.com T&cs at getlostmagazine.com

The Right Bank’s where it’s at when it comes to partying in Paris these days.

Nikola Sarbinowski drinks her way through the old and new of Belleville and beyond.

Photography by Nikola Sarbinowski and Lachie McKenzie

Aux Folies is the place to be on a balmy night in Belleville.

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here’S LiTTLe iN BeLLeviLLe To hiNT that this northeastern neighbourhood was once a wine-growing village that lured Parisians beyond the city’s walls.

Today, maneki neko lucky cats beckon from windows in Chinatown, shishas sweeten the air, art studios abound and cool twenty-somethings cram into cafe patios, drinking Stella and chain smoking.

But trace Belleville’s roots beyond the shuffle of gentrification, past its days as a seedy ’burb and you’ll discover it has long been a place to party. Before Paris swelled and, in 1860, swallowed the popular weekend retreat, the town was praised for its produce and loved most of all for the hundreds of taverns, goguettes (singing clubs) and cabarets that sold cheap wine and good times – two ingredients you’ll still uncover today. Make this your home base and explore the surrounding neighbourhoods that have usurped the rive Gauche’s (Left Bank’s) claim over the city’s creative types. With inexpensive vélib’ bike stations every 300 metres, it’s best to set off on two wheels, then switch to foot and métro when booze dances through your blood.

4pm The French start drinking early, so you should too. But that doesn’t have to mean popping a cork. Despite the nation’s love affair with wine, the landscape is shifting, and Paname Brewing Company (PBC) is one of the new kids crafting beer. Hovering over the Bassin de la Villette, a 10-minute bike ride from Belleville, PBC opened its doors in an old granary in June 2015. “It’s like Brooklyn 10 to 15 years ago,” says manager Fred DeBelge of the area, once a bustling port. As one of just 10 or so breweries in Paris, PBC is hoping to break down what DeBelge regards as an impenetrable “beer geek” culture. It seems to be working – there’s usually six brews on the go, the brewery produces 2000 litres of beer a week and seats start filling in the early afternoon. Slurp a pint of Barge du Canal, an American-style IPA, and run your eyes over the shiny vats or the blackboard detailing the preparation of malt. If you’d prefer to sit in the sunshine, choose a spot on the pontoon next to the 150-year-old cherry tree and watch little boats go by.

Paname Brewing Company 41 bis Quai de la Loire 75019 Paris panamebrewingcompany.com 34 get lost ISSUE 51

Not a drop of sock juice in sight at La Fontaine de Belleville.

6pm

Checking the merch at Paname Brewing Company.

That the term jus de chausette (sock juice) is part of the French vernacular for coffee is rather telling of the quality of the stuff.

Uncovering an espresso that wasn’t burnt to bitterness was, up until five years ago, like finding a gluten-free baguette.

Now, dozens of cafes serve single origin brews. At the helm is Belleville Brûlerie, a roastery whose shopfront is only open for six hours on Saturdays. The good news is it supplies many of the city’s best cafes, including La Fontaine de Belleville. Just a short walk away from PBC, it’s open later than most, so you can perk up from your pale ale-induced haze. Here you’ll find the best parts of Paris’s famous cafe culture with the added bonus of excellent coffee.

Sit among patterned tiles and round tables and watch Belleville dwellers pass by. Don’t be surprised if a hundred-strong troupe of rollerbladers scoots around the corner, only to disappear before you’ve had time to whip out your phone.

La Fontaine de Belleville 31–33 rue Juliette Dodu 75010 Paris lafontaine.cafesbelleville.com

get in the know Canal St Martin is drained every 10 to 15 years, uncovering treasures and trash. In 2001, more than 40 tonnes of rubbish was removed from the 4.5-kilometre stretch.

after dark Paris

9pm

I spy the Iron Lady.

“Beware of words,” warns the wall.

7pm Strolling Canal St Martin.

6.30pm Trade vessels and houseboats trundle along the man-made waterway of Canal St Martin.

Just before it dips underground to emerge again at Bastille, its banks are flanked with massive plane trees offering shade from the sun in summer. Wander along, crossing over the iron footbridges and ducking into the boutiques that line the streets on either side. On a warm evening, join the droves dangling their legs over the concrete edge and imbibing bottles of 1664 and inexpensive supermarket vino.

Canal St Martin 75010 Paris

In a country so famous for food, restaurants need to pack a punch to stand out. Stroll from Canal St Martin back towards Belleville and you’ll hit a favourite, Le Chateaubriand.

Ten years ago the restaurant lit a fire under the stuffy food scene by making fine dining accessible. Basque-born chef Iñaki Aizpitarte creates a new eight-course tasting menu each day, often marrying typical French dishes such as foie gras with ingredients like miso soup.

The experience will set you back €70 but it’s worth every euro. Reservations for the 7pm seating open three weeks in advance, and if you miss out on one of these you can take your chances lining for the second slot.

Le Chateaubriand 129 Avenue Parmentier 75011 Paris lechateaubriand.net

get in the know When Edith Piaf died more than 100,000 people filled the streets to mourn her.

French gardens are usually orderly, with manicured shrubs, gravel paths and metal chairs, but Parc de Belleville has a haphazard mix of plants, a vegetable patch and, as a nod to the region’s wine-growing past, 140 grapevines. Come here around twilight, before a park officer drives picnickers out of the grounds with the help of a whistle, in a ritual that takes place every night in parks across Paris. Up the hill, just above the greenery, the Belvédère de Belleville terrace looks out over the City of Light. An excellent place to watch the sunset, it’s where locals go, often with guitar in hand, to spy the Eiffel Tower without the risk of losing their nonchalant facade in front of tourists. If you’ve been walking the avenues between tall, almost identical buildings, this helps to reset your sense of perspective.

Scan the terracotta chimneys popping up like periscopes from every roof and spot Notre Dame and the stone skeleton of SaintSulpice in the distance. In the last of the golden light, wet your lips on the terrace of Moncoeur Belleville. Sunset calls for a coupe de champagne, don’t you think?

Parc de Belleville 47 rue des Couronnes 75020 Paris

10pm What do you get when a pharmacist, gallery owner and sound engineer walk into a bar?

La Cave de Belleville. Keeping up with the creep of gentrification through the area, they transformed a former leather supply store into a wine bar that sits among kebab shops, boulangeries and cheap Asian takeaway joints. An impressive library of French and international wines covers one wall, complete with a ladder to help you reach drops perched up high. Fromage in various stages of mould fills the cabinet near the front, and saucisson and olives make an appearance too, ready to be dished up onto slate platters. Ask the staff to help you tackle the wine list – they’re always excited to share their knowledge of each bottle and will point you in the way of a natural, sulphate-free drop.

La Cave de Belleville 51 rue de Belleville 75019 Paris lacavedebelleville.com ISSUE 51 get lost 35

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Usa

In the home of the blues, Grant Lancaster takes one for the team and immerses himself – and his liver – in Memphis’s magical Beale Street Music Festival.

Photography by Grant Lancaster

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wise cab driver by the name of Quantel once told me, “Memphis is made up of three words: Graceland, blues and barbecue.”

For the most part, he was absolutely right.

Now, someone please hand me a coconut water and a Panadol because Quantel definitely forgot the fourth and most important word: hangover.

Flooding has started in Memphis as a massive rainstorm hits the lively southern city right on schedule for the weekend’s festivities. The consensus, on my United Airlines flight from New York, is that this is by no means an unusual occurrence. For the past four years, a conveniently timed and almost predictable deluge has graced Graceland directly preceding the festival. This has happened so often, the locals now lovingly refer to the Beale Street Music Festival as Memphis’s Music Mud Fest.

The 40-year-old Beale Street Music Festival (BSMF) is the three-day, kickoff event of the annual Memphis in May celebration, a month-long line-up of special events, competitions and shows to honour the city and its rich history. Every year the festival attracts more than 100,000 people from all over the country for a musical smorgasbord of big-name stars and local legends who play side by side at the humble waterfront venue, Tom Lee Park.

Originally a festival exclusively celebrating the blues, BSMF has, over the years, opened its offerings to rock, hip-hop and pop to accommodate the ever-expanding interests of music fans. This time around, a total of 69 performers, of both national and local acclaim, are here to be a part of the fun. Headliners include household names – Beck, Paul Simon, Neil Young, Cypress Hill – alongside a swathe of up-and-comers like Grace Potter, Courtney Barnett and Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats. Regardless of whether your musical druthers span country or rap, there’s guaranteed a little something for you here.

Music rumbles in the distance as I approach the gates to find a long motley queue of loyal festival-goers patiently awaiting entry. Hippie and hillbilly, black and white, young and old – this diverse crowd stands united with their ponchos and gumboots, having travelled from far and wide to fulfill their love of music.

Inside, three gigantic stages run parallel to the majestic Mississippi River, as an envious Arkansas watches all the fun from across the water.

As I walk further into the grounds, the footpath transforms from cement to dirt and finally to mud. The heavy, wet air of the Mississippi mixes with the lingering scent of Black & Milds, light weed smokeage and the distinct aroma of fried food. That smell wafts from tents near the stages, where vendors are serving up local delicacies like gator on a stick, bourbon chicken and medieval-sized drumsticks.

The energy is playful and fun. Children chase one another past elderly couples wandering hand in hand. Mothers and daughters bond on blankets at the back, listening to Paul Simon as they clink with cold 40 get lost ISSUE 51

Bud Lights. Mud is flung through the sky as teenagers jump around the pit while Meghan Trainor belts out their favourite tunes. Everyone seems to be there for their own reasons, and yet somehow they all seem connected. While at one stage you see three generations swaying back and forth to Neil Young, you can walk one stage over to catch Yo Gotti, a hometown hero back for a big performance on his old stomping ground, performing to an eclectic crowd of booty-shakers throwing up their hands to the beat.

Not in the mood for a big crowd? You’re covered. Stop by the Blues Shack, hidden between towering stages, for a more intimate experience.

Here you might see local blues veteran Leo Bud Welch sitting alone on a stool with a guitar and harmonica. He’ll destroy you with his painfully brilliant music.

Variety of performances aside, another home run for the organisers of this unique spring festival is its affordability. For seasoned festival-goers, a weekend of music can be upwards of a thousand dollars (sorry, did someone say Coachella?). Yet at BSMF, even music aficionados working hard just to rub two coins together can gather the funds to join friends and family for a truly enjoyable three days of memory making. Food is affordable, beer is comparatively cheap, and sponsors like Rockstar, Fireball and Marlboro hand out free products all weekend. Vices? Check.

Another huge bonus is the fact you can come and go as you wish, a privilege seldom found at other festivals of this size. The boisterous, dangerous (in a good way) bedlam of Beale Street is no more than a short jaunt away.

Speaking of which, it’s time to jump into the fray.

The final act of the night has played its encore, and an ocean of smiling strangers begins its exodus to chapter two of the night’s festivities: the after party. As I trudge up a small hill with my fellow carousers, the dreamlike neon playground of debauchery that is Memphis’s Beale Street shows its seductive face on the not-sodistant horizon.

Armed with my press pass, I embark on the noble mission of exploring all 42 music-filled drinking establishments they’ve managed to cram into these three bacchanalian blocks. I do this for you, and your benefit alone. Yes, I know, you’re welcome.

To give a full rundown of this street would take a lifetime, and three extra kidneys. But here’s the skinny.

Relatively new but notably fun, the Tin Roof boasts two levels that open up to a main stage.

With two separate bars on each level and twerk music videos playing on all screens, it attracts a young crowd there for one thing and one thing only: the inevitable hangover.

The historic, two-storey Jerry Lee Lewis has something for everyone.

Veer right at the entrance and visit Keith downstairs for a drink and some history. This bartender has witnessed 20 years of music and drunkenness behind his bar, which serves the stage where stars are born. This is a real local spot where, until 5am, the drinks flow constantly and live music from aspiring artists plays. What is special about this place is its dynamic. Where there’s an unexpected amount of culture in this particular room, I walk across the hall to the other ground-floor bar where I proceed to meet a young man named Neebs, who wastes no time sharing his newly tattooed shoulder bearing a monkey fingering its own arsehole. I take my beer upstairs to where the music thumps faster than my heart rate and from where I can watch the chaos below.

get in the know As well as the blues, Memphis, and in particular Stax Records, was the birthplace of soul music.

Usa UK

The 901 Heavy Hitters play at Alfred’s on Beale.

Daisyland nightclub.

Joe the Show at Tin Roof.

Tuning in to the Violent Femmes.

Yo Gotti pulls a crowd.

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Magellan used the word patagĂłns to describe people he thought were giants when he explored this part of the world.

It’s not surprising the name was passed on to the region taking up the southern half of Argentina.

John Malathronas explores its changing moods.

Photography by John Malathronas

Hiking the Sendero Cocinero in Los Alerces National Park.

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ArgentinA

A male sea lion with his harem.

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ho would have thought a marine safari could be so exciting? I’m on a boat swaying by a rocky platform where male sea lions are guarding their harems with strangled croaks. The persistent Patagonian wind ruffles their manes – surprisingly dry, for the males dare not dive into the sea.

If they did, competitors would steal their females in a flash. The harems are delineated with virtual walls – should any other male step beyond an imaginary partition, a fight ensues. But not for long. Every macho on the platform is worried about the teenagers swimming in the sea below.

Not as well built but horny and tenacious, they wait for an opportunity to pounce when a herder isn’t looking. Suddenly all hell breaks loose.

One harem disappears under the manic flapping of a million seagull wings. A male chases them off only to be attacked by a flock of South American terns. Other males scoot away awkwardly on their flippers.

Their females follow them with the pups flapping clumsily behind. The teenagers swimming under the rock ledge prick up their ears. A giant petrel dives imperiously, disperses the terns with authority and picks up something bloody with its beak.

It’s a sea lion placenta, and I’ve just witnessed a birth; Patagonia certainly humbles you in more ways than one.

It’s difficult to believe the pup hasn’t been pecked to death, but there it is, tucked safely under its mother. She’s pushing to birth the last bit of placenta under the hungry eyes of a kelp gull. In a week she’ll be in heat, her mate will demand her favours and she’ll conceive next year’s baby.

Watching wildlife is a big tourist industry on Peninsula Valdes and every season has something different to attract the traveller. Although the southern right whales that migrate between June and December to give birth in the safe waters around Valdes have disappeared by the

time I arrive, Magellanic penguins are still feeding their chicks along the Patagonian shore. At Estancia San Lorenzo, at the northern tip of Valdes, the overwhelming smell of regurgitated fish makes me wish I had not stuffed myself with barbecued lamb an hour earlier. Here, the penguin parents are doing their silly walks to the sea to catch fish, and their chicks open their beaks trustingly at anything remotely big and black, like my Nikon camera. When the Almighty created birds, She certainly had fun fashioning the penguins.

Most other wildlife is best seen around the artificial irrigation systems of the estancias (farms). Apart from the ubiquitous sheep, the easiest animals to spot are the graceful guanacos, always eyeing humans curiously as if debating whether we’re harmless enough for a closer look. Rheas, the stumpy cousins of the ostrich, have made up their minds and keep a respectful distance.

The next day I’m on my way to the mountains, hitching a ride with Gustavo and Paula who are working in Puerto Madryn, the gateway to Valdes, and are visiting family in Esquel, the regional administrative centre in the Andes.

Leaving Valdes, I become acquainted with the tinamu, a pheasant-like bird. Unlike rheas, tinamus don’t just cross the road in front of us – they panic and change trajectory halfway across. Gustavo slams on the brakes, raising huge amounts of dust so we can never tell whether we’ve dodged or flattened them. It’s hard to put hand on heart and swear we left the roadside tinamu population as we found it, but I promise we tried.

get in the know More than 260,000 sea lions were slaughtered in the waters around Valdes between 1914 and 1958, when the Argentine government stopped issuing licences.

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The spectacular Goðafoss falls in Iceland’s north.

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ICELAND

Image: Michael Sarbinowski

It’s a land of spitting geysers, icy fjords and temperamental tectonic plates.

Daniel Scott feels the earth’s energy on a road trip around Iceland.

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Far from Marrakesh, Danika Porter discovers another Morocco, where the ruins of ancient trade routes are all that’s left behind, the Sahara seems to stretch on forever and dunes offer a playground in the desert.

Photography by Danika Porter

Stopping for a stretch on the camel trek across never-ending dunes.

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Morocco

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n the High Atlas Mountains, Cheikh is handling the switchbacks like a Formula One racer, negotiating trucks, cars, bikes and donkeys along winding oneway roads. We give way at each unguarded hairpin bend, swerving into the gravel perilously close to the cliff edge.

In just two hours since leaving Marrakesh, we’ve climbed nearly 2000 metres. Daylight reveals the iron hues of the High Atlas and the enormous scope of the mountain range. For the next three nights I will be camping on Morocco’s biggest and wildest dune, Erg Chigaga, about 500 kilometres southeast of Marrakesh. Getting there is a rugged 10-hour journey across inhospitable terrain.

We pass clusters of Berber villages camouflaged by the mountains.

At times the buildings are hard to distinguish from abandoned ruins.

Hunched elderly women piggyback bulging loads, seemingly en route to nowhere, and children lead donkeys laden with cargo along dangerous passes.

Mid-morning we turn off at Telouet, a decrepit kasbah built in the late 1800s for the ruling Glaoui family. It’s positioned along the ancient trade route between the Sahara and Marrakesh, and its crumbling facade conceals protected spoils inside. In room after room, every centimetre is covered in ornate mosaics and carvings. It seems an eager designer was given carte blanche and adopted every material and technique in the artists’ handbook. It’s incredible this deserted time capsule is so well preserved and open for visitors to freely explore. I wish our visit lasted longer than a leg stretch.

We next stop at the fortified city of Aït Benhaddou, now a UNESCO World Heritage site. Located beside the dry Ounila River, its imposing defensive walls conceal a labyrinth of packed-earth buildings.

Decaying alleys are filled with shops catering to the hordes of tourists drawn here by its Hollywood fame. You have to use your imagination, but Lawrence of Arabia, The Mummy and Gladiator were all filmed here. More recently, the city also formed the backdrop for Yunkai and Pentos in TV juggernaut Game of Thrones. After I channel my best Russell Crowe impression in the gladiatorial arena, we are swiftly back on the road.

We travel through the Anti-Atlas range then on to Agdz at the start of the Draa Valley. A lush oasis of three million date palms accompanies us on the two-hour journey to Zagora. There’s an occasional roadside dune, and Cheikh explains just how far the sand has blown beyond the ISSUE 51 get lost 63

A longtail boat resting in the water near Koh Mook and the Emerald Cave.

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Thailand

getting of it Even during the chaos of Songkran, Graeme Green finds a cluster of Thai islands where calm prevails and the living is easy.

Photography by Graeme Green

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