JRNY Travel Magazine - Issue Five

Tourism Gran Canaria is delighted to support

Issue Five of JRNY Travel Magazine.

This beautiful volcanic island is known as a ‘continent in miniature’ and definitely worth exploring, with over half of its territory having been declared a World Heritage Site and Biosphere Reserve by Unesco. In this exquisitely prepared issue, we want to inspire you to explore the more authentic side of Gran Canaria, its people, culture and breathtaking landscapes.

ISSUE FIVE

The JRNY Team

Founding Editors: Kav Dadfar & Jordan Banks

Editor-in-Chief: Emma Gibbs

Sub-Editor / Head of Digital: Simon Willmore

Art Direction & Design: Jo Dovey

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Thanks

JRNY Travel Magazine would like to thank Judith Neilson and the Judith Neilson Institute for Journalism and Ideas for their generous and continued support.

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Cover Image

By David Jervidal | Enjoying the views of Roque Bantayga on Gran Canaria, Spain.

Issue Five

First published June 2023.

ISSN 2752-7077 (Online)

WELCOME TO ISSUE FIVE

Fantastic photography has always been at the heart of JRNY – hardly surprising, given we have two professional photographers as our founders. In our opinion, there is no better way to tell a compelling travel story than through captivating text and immersive images, and – call us biased, if you like – we reckon that combination makes JRNY one of the most beautiful travel magazines on the market.

With this in mind, we’re particularly proud to have made Issue Five a photography special, which has allowed us to really showcase the work of some of the most exciting and inspiring travel photographers around. In addition, this issue sees the launch of the World Travel Photography Awards, a new competition we’re running in conjunction with ild rontiers to find the best travel photographers from around the world. The awards are open to both professionals and amateurs, and could lead to you seeing your photograph grace the pages of JRNY. For more information, visit jrnymag.com/photo-comp – we can’t wait to see your work!

icking off our photo essays for this issue is Lynn Gail, who introduces us to the people and traditions of the staggering island of adagascar. Another island this time, adeira is the focus of Giulia Verdinelli’s photo essay, where we see how much its topography has influenced its cuisine. In eonju, South orea, Mark Parren Taylor’s photos bring to life the ancient art of traditional bibimbap bowl making, while Kav Dadfar introduces us to the atmospheric festival of Loi Krathong in Thailand. Lewis Burnett brings us face to face with sharks as he shares his experiences diving with these mighty creatures off the coast of southern Africa while Julian Elliott takes us on a journey through the remote Upper Mustang region of Nepal.

Complementing these pieces are a handful of insightful articles, including our cover story by Ross Clarke which explores the often overlooked but magnificent interior of ran Canaria. Simon Richmond shows us the quiet drama of the so-called ‘Fifth Continent’ on Kent’s southeastern coast, and Imogen Lepere leads us into Brazil’s interior to see how remote communities are using ecotourism to secure their future. Sustainability plays a significant role in Simon Urwin’s travels in Cambodia, too, while in Oman, Joe Worthington travels the Frankincense Trail in search of this aromatic resin and lost cities.

As always, producing this magazine would be impossible without the support of a few select sponsors, so a huge thank you must go to our issue sponsor, Gran Canaria. We’re delighted to have also worked with Alabama to celebrate the state’s ear of irding in an additional photo essay.

Finally, don't forget to head to jrnymag.com/podcast to hear Season Four of the JRNY podcast, where our sub-editor Si Willmore speaks to astronauts, professors and sustainability specialists who are pushing the envelope in our industry. We are always so grateful for your support; through buying, reading, subscribing and listening to JRNY you enable us to keep sharing these amazing stories.

Thank you.

Emma Gibbs Editor-in-Chief

THE GRAN CANARIA COAST IS AT ONCE MAJESTIC, DESTRUCTIVE, SOOTHING AND DELICIOUSLY APPEALING, BUT VENTURE TO THE ISLAND’S INTERIOR AND YOU’LL FIND ANOTHER WORLD AWAY FROM THE SEA, SUN AND SAND, SAYS ROSS CLARKE

‘A

s islands go, this is not large, and the tremendous variety of scenery in Gran Canaria, and the extraordinary ferocity of so much of the landscape are, therefore, all the more remarkable’ or so says Elizabeth Nicholas in her 1958 book Madeira and the Canaries. She’s right, of course. Many people know the famous dunes of Maspalomas – beaches and sand often go hand in hand with descriptions of this little piece of paradise (and rightly so) – but have never heard of Roque

Bentayga, chorizo de Teror or Negramoll red wine. It’s the reason I’m here in the Atlantic archipelago for a few days – to explore the interior of the island and learn about its views, vines and volcanoes.

Elizabeth Nicholas’s description is still ringing in my head as I’m met by my guide for my trek into the mountains. Guillermo looks a bit like a park ranger dressed head to toe in khaki and olive-green hiking gear – and in some ways he is. A naturalist with a degree in environmental science and (as I learn) an encyclopaedic knowledge of birds, butterflies and blooms, he echoes familiar thoughts as we begin our long, winding drive

to the island’s sunken centre. ‘It’s a bit cliché, but it’s true when people describe it as a miniature continent.’ Gran Canaria is about 15 million years old, but its current volcanic landscape was created by multiple eruptions over millennia, the last of which was some 2,000 years ago. ‘The south is arid and hot, reminiscent of Saharan Africa; there are lush parts such as the valleys and ravine floors of Fataga and Agaete, and a lot of the north coast.’ He explains that it’s to do with the trade winds, the clouds of which get stuck on the high volcanic ridges.

‘It’s a collapsed volcanic crater,’ says Guillermo, who, without taking pause for breath, interrupts himself to point out plain swifts and Canary birds (which are in fact a sort of lime colour), ‘and is pretty much the centre of the island.’ The giant eruption here was so quick and explosive that it destroyed itself.

We’ve picked a great day weather-wise and as we drive higher, we catch glimpses of El Teide volcano on neighbouring Tenerife, Spain’s highest peak. It’s almost inconceivable that the cone of the crater we’re skirting could have been as tall as Teide.

‘Where exactly are we going?’ I ask as we wind up precariously narrow roads that cling to the mountainsides. ‘Roque Bentayga. Have you ever been?’ asks Guillermo. I admit that I haven’t. Even when I lived here many years ago, I never managed to tick this soaring monolith off my list.

With each hairpin turn we climb a little higher and the views get more impressive. Gently swaying Canarian palms are replaced by sturdy and fragrant pines, vibrant poppies and bright (Canary) yellow broom. It’s di cult to comprehend the magnitude of this mountain and ravine landscape that’s been forged by fire and unsympathetically carved by water and wind. Unsurprisingly, the whole landscape has protected Unesco status: El Paisaje Cultural de Risco Caído y las Montañas Sagradas de Gran Canaria – the Cultural Landscape of Risco Caído and the Sacred Mountains of Gran Canaria. And they do give a certain scared majesty and awe as I look up, down and as far into the distance as I can and am greeted by undulations of reddish-brown rocks peppered with sage-green foliage. It’s easy to see why

OPENING SPREAD: View of Roque Nublo.

PREVIOUS PAGES

LEFT TO RIGHT: Roque Bentayga; Low-lying cloud around Roque Bentayga.

RIGHT: Looking up at Roque Bentayga.

IT’S DIFFICULT TO COMPREHEND THE MAGNITUDE OF THIS MOUNTAIN AND RAVINE LANDSCAPE THAT’S BEEN FORGED BY FIRE.

these peaks were revered by the island’s original inhabitants.

Roque Bentayga was one of the main settlements of Gran Canaria’s indigenous peoples. They were cave-dwelling people and from across the caldera (crater) Guillermo points out the cave openings carved into the cliffs. ‘It was one of the biggest settlements and there is evidence showing dwellings, burial chambers and grain stores. Roque Bentayga was in some ways their last stronghold. A natural fortress.’ Rising up out of

the centre of the crater on a sort of pedestal, it wouldn’t look out of place in a fairy-tale or a Tolkien-inspired fantasy film.

We climb the rocky path on foot and Guillermo points out a nearby plateau that was likely used for growing grains and cereals, and the Roque Nublo in all its grandeur. Standing at nearly 262ft tall, with its top point at 5,948ft above sea level, it seems to reach up into the sky. ‘Don’t just look up and out,’ says Guillermo as we reach the summit. ‘Look at the floor here. It’s been levelled out and there are the

RIGHT: Pilancones Natural Park, in San Bartolome de Tirajana municipality.

FOLLOWING PAGE: Admiring Roque Bentayga in the mist.

markings and holes where perhaps there would have been wooden poles.’

I ask what this sort of key-shaped carving means. ‘The truth is that no one really knows. It could have been for defensive purposes and held some sort of weapon, it could have been ritual or spiritual, a sort of altar…’ Guillermo trails off. ‘That’s the mystery and what makes all of this landscape so interesting. There are still many unknowns. But what I will say is that at a certain point, the sun perfectly aligns with the rocks and projects light right here where we’re standing.’ It’s not the only place this happens. uillermo knows of at least five sites where on the solstices the light enters a tomb, illuminates a particular carving and structure or even tells the story of fertility – as is the case of the Risco Caído cave. It’s not unfathomable

to believe that the original inhabitants had a particular connection to the sun, moon and heavens; these sacred monoliths reaching up and projecting them closer to a higher being.

It’s market day in Teror, and the normally rather quiet town in the northeast of the island is awash with people. The stalls are set up around the imposing church Basílica a la Virgen del Pino that’s dedicated to the island’s patron saint, and sell everything from miniature statues of the Virgin to bright bougainvillea plants. I’m in search of many things but mainly I’ve come for the chorizo. It’s not like a solid sausage, but rather a spreadable paste made with pork, garlic, spices and paprika, which helps give it its shockingly orange colour. It has a deep, rich meaty flavour and contains the right amount of natural fats to melt satisfyingly on the tongue. Every stall seems to have some in either its traditional string-of-sausages form or is selling bocadillos (rolls) spread thickly with the unctuous pate and paired with soft, white queso tierno (fresh cheese). I snap up a roll and instantly devour it as the bright sunshine radiates off the traditional Canarian buildings that surround the square.

There are lots of cheeses on offer too, many from nearby Valsequillo and Guía, ranging from fresh to crumbly cured varieties, their rind often rubbed with pimentón or gofio (a toasted flour that’s possibly the most Canarian foodstuff you’ll find). If you say something in local dialect, people will often tell you that you’re ‘m s canario que el gofio’ more Canarian than gofio. I also bag Canarian black pudding. It’s different to what you might know, as it contains warm spices and nuts that makes it taste like Christmas when fried in slices, or baked whole in the oven or over the wood-fired grill.

Suitably stuffed with savoury goodness, my eyes and mind turn towards pastries, which are plentiful and varied. The towns around the north are particularly known for their sweet treats, possibly because of the proliferation of almond trees that grow in these parts. Truchas de batata (sweet potato pasties) sit alongside

CLOCKWISE FROM THE TOP: Roque Bentayga sitting majestically above the clouds; Roque Nublo in the early morning sun; Key-shaped carving at the foot of Roque Nublo; A small village in the shadow of Roque Nublo.

bizcocho de Moya (a crunchy, light, dry biscuit laced with lemon and sugar), various queques (this comes from the English word ‘cake’ and is a remnant of the ritish influence on the island back in the late 1800s) and bollos (fried crunchy rings of dough often flavoured with matalauva – aniseed), and my favourite, pan de huevo (a soft, sweet bread that tastes a bit like a Chelsea or hot cross bun but without the dried fruit, and covered in crunchy sugar).

I’m not sure I need lunch, but I can’t resist popping into one of the local restaurants thronging with jovial diners to get my fill of beloved Canarian classics such as gofio escaldón the aforementioned toasted flour mixed with potent fish stock and served with mint and red onion ‘spoons’ for scooping the umami mix into your mouth. Most of the restaurants around here are family-run affairs and have always had a zero-mile food ethos, as they’ve never needed to go far for fresh ingredients. That microclimate comes in handy for growing pretty much anything – from tropical fruits to coffee. Time for a siesta, I think.

If yesterday were about food, today is all about drink and my guide is Maria, who greets me with a ‘You’re a lot younger than I thought you’d be’. I reassure her that I’m plenty old enough to enjoy the wine we’ll be sampling. We’re heading to Bandama in the northeast where there’s a giant volcanic crater but also several vineyards. As we drive, Maria explains that Canary Island wine used to be famous across the world, especially in the UK. Shakespeare even mentions it in Twelfth Night: ‘Thou lack’st a cup of canary!’ The wine then was likely more fortified than present day, but thankfully the Canaries are reclaiming their status using native grape varieties and the incredibly fertile volcanic soil to produce some standout wines – even Spanish footballer and Canarian native David Silva has got in on the act, with his vineyard Bodegas Tamerán. We won’t be seeing David today though as we’re off to one of the oldest wineries on the island, Bodega San Juan, which was founded

THIS PAGE FROM THE TOP: The town of Teror; A bakery stall at Teror’s market; A market stall in Teror; Bocadillos (rolls) with chorizo de terror and fresh cheese.

OPPOSITE PAGE FROM THE TOP: View of Teror; The Bandama Natural Monument volcanic crater near Las Palmas.

THE BRIGHT, CHERRYCOLOURED WINE GLUGS INTO THE BULBOUS GLASSES IN CONSIDERABLE MEASURE.

in 1912. It forms part of the new Ruta del Vino de Gran Canaria – a self-guided wine route encompassing wineries, restaurants and more.

It’s a grand estate and we enter through a large, pillared gateway. ‘We’ll jump out here,’ Maria says, ‘it’s a great walk.’ She not lying: the tree-lined drive is grand and impressive. The vineyard also has a small wine museum and we see implements of yore (wine presses, bottles etc) perfectly preserved in their wonderfully well-used state. The vineyard is

naturally organic, planted with wildflowers between the rows of vines to distract insects from the grapes, and everything is harvested by hand. After a history lesson, it’s time for a tasting and we take our seats on the patio terrace next to the red-washed buildings that were apparently inspired by the British. The bright cherry-coloured wine glugs into the bulbous glasses in a considerable measure. It’s a blend of Negramoll and Listán Negro grapes and is fresh and fruity, with red-berry

OPPOSITE PAGE CLOCKWISE FROM THE

TOP LEFT: The Church of San Juan Bautista; Enjoying a glass of rum at Arucas Rum Factory; Arucas Rum Factory entrance; Barrels of Arucas Rum.

flavours and just a hint of the volcano. It slips down rather easily, but I daren’t have another as the alcohol level is about to take an upward turn as we jump back in the car and head north to Arucas – a rather grand looking town with a mighty Gothic-style church.

Arucas once had huge wealth due to the 19th-century cochineal industry. Gran Canaria was the ideal environment for the little cochineal bugs and the islands bet their lives and livelihoods on it. Sadly, artificial dyes put paid to the lucrative trade. But another product was also grown here – sugar cane. It’s said that Columbus took the cane with him to the Caribbean, and the rum tradition was born. However, I’m here to learn about what happens to the sugar still grown in these parts at the Arehucas rum distillery.

The distillery opened in 1884, and has been producing the famous ron (rum) ever since. These days, they also make a range of liqueurs and spirits but the rum is what brings up to 95,000 visitors here every year. There’s a little tour to show you the process and I’m lucky to be here in sugar-cane harvest time (March to May) to see the long spindly canes get crushed and extracted of their precious juice. With one of the biggest and oldest rum cellars in Europe, there are barrels signed by famous names stretching back decades (as a proud Welshman, I’m delighted to see Sir Tom Jones has been here). At the tasting rooms housed in the former on-site home of the founder, I’m offered multiple measures of the warming, dark amber liquid. ¡Salud!

Watching the sun set over the banana plantations that surround my hotel, a glass of slightly chilled tinto – this time from Bodegas Bentayga – in my hand, my mind comes back to those words by Elizabeth Nicholas. Flicking through the images on my camera from the last few days – of vertiginous precipices, gargantuan ravines, heaven-scratching nature-made sculptures, and passion-filled products made with the best of the land and ancestral know-how – it strikes me that this island, particularly its interior, is both tremendous and remarkable in gloriously generous equal (Canarian) measure.

TOP AND BOTTOM: The Banana Museum at Hacienda La Rekompensa in Arucas, in the north of the island.

Photo Credits: Gran Canaria Tourism; Alamy; Dreamstime; Ross Clarke.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

Flights from all over the world arrive into the island’s only airport (LPA). There are also ferries from Cadíz and Huelva in mainland Spain to Las Palmas port.

BEST TIME TO GO

Anytime: Las Palmas de Gran Canaria claimed the title of the city with the best climate in the world for many years thanks to its year-round temperate climate, though be aware that summer temperatures can soar.

CURRENCY Euro

TIME ZONE GMT

FOOD

Canarian cuisine is a bit of a mishmash, with influences from mainland Spain, Africa, Latin America and northern Europe. Basic Canarian food is farmer’s food, with vegetables, stews and meat cooked simply. Seafood and shellfish are of the best quality and freshness.

WHERE TO STAY

Opt for boutique or rustic hotels for something a bit different, such as Hacienda del Buen Suceso near Arucas or Be Cordial Malteses in the old town of Las Palmas.

HOW TO DO IT

Hiring a car is the easiest way to get around. Guided tours with Guillermo Bernal can be booked via Gran Canaria Sightseeing on Facebook or Tours by Locals.

MUST-PACK ITEM

Gran Canaria’s unique microclimate means you can experience all the seasons in one day depending on where you are on the island. Pack sun cream and hiking boots for trekking the mountains.

WHY GO

It sounds clichéd but there really is something for everyone, from mountain peaks to sand dunes, secluded coves to vibrant city neighbourhoods.

THE HEART OF

Shaped like a teardrop, Madagascar, the world’s fourthlargest island, pierces the Indian Ocean with an evocative mix of Asian, French and African customs. Isolated from mainland Africa, it’s home to cool highlands, forested lowlands and turquoise coastlines, all rooted in traditional culture. With many people visiting for the astounding wildlife, few realise that the island is home to 18 ethnic groups, from the zebu-herding Bara to the semi-nomadic Vezo, who still practise their ancient beliefs. Spending some time getting to know the Malagasy people provides a real insight into life on this beautiful island.

PHOTO ESSAY BY LYNN GAIL

OPENING SPREAD: Malagasy women use mudpacks to protect their skin from the harsh sunlight.

ABOVE: The layered granite landscape near Fianarantsoa.

LEFT: A family in Zombitse-Vohibasia National Park.

ABOVE: Herding zebu through Isalo; the herding journey can take up to a month.

RIGHT:

Local villagers sift for sapphires in a muddy riverbed in Ilakaka.

ABOVE: A young farmer in Isalo National Park

ABOVE: Farmers harvesting bamboo in the Isalo region.

A Vezo woman carrying scarves to sell in the Ifaty coastal region. LEFT:

woman sells fresh fruit in Toliara.

THIS PAGE CLOCKWISE FROM THE LEFT: Sifting the sand for bait at Mangily; Young girls carrying fish walk along the coast; Wooden dugout canoes stretch along Ambolomailaka village’s beach in Ifaty.; A Vezo man paddles his seaweed-laden boat in the Mozambique Channel; Pulling the morning catch in.

FOLLOWING PAGES: Vezo fishermen rowing an outrigger canoe, guided by a sail made from old sacks.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

Ivato International Airport is about 30 minutes’ drive from Antananarivo, Madagascar’s capital city.

BEST TIME TO GO

Aim to visit during the dry season from May to October when it’s cooler with less rainfall, making it perfect for outdoor experiences.

CURRENCY Malagasy ariary

TIME ZONE GMT+3

FOOD

Madagascar is famous for the breakfast dish vary amin’anana – a soupy rice served with chopped greens and dried, smoked meat. For lunch or dinner try the traditional speciality ravitoto sy henakisoa, consisting of cassava leaves and chunks of pork cooked in coconut milk. Sweet-toothed travellers should visit one of the French bakeries for melt-in-yourmouth black vanilla macarons.

WHERE TO STAY

Accommodation varies from basic to luxury chateaux. Book in advance for peak season (July to September) as options can be limited.

HOW TO DO IT

While self-drive is an option, Madagascar is best visited with a tour guide who knows the landscape and culture well, and who can introduce you to the local people for a more in-depth experience of the country.

MUST-PACK ITEM

Pack warm layers for the dry season, and good-quality hiking boots as forest terrain can be steep and slippery.

WHY GO

To immerse yourself in the incredible Malagasy culture, to learn about unique, deep-rooted customs, and to connect with the island’s people. The vast southern landscape feels limitless as you travel through its wideopen spaces.

W ORLD TRAVEL

A W

KINGDOM THE TUCKED-AWAY

Sitting in the rain shadow of Annapurna, the once closed and heavily restricted area of Upper Mustang is a barren landscape in northern Nepal. Once known as the Kingdom of Lo, this region on the Tibetan border has only been open to outsiders since 1992, and even today only welcomes about 6,000 visitors a year, thanks in part to the costly permit that’s required to enter. As a result, the people of Upper Mustang have been able to retain a traditional way of life that has been largely untouched by modern influences, and a visit here offers a fascinating insight into both uddhism and Tibetan culture.

PHOTO ESSAY BY JULIAN ELLIOTT

THIS PAGE FROM THE TOP: uddhist prayer flags in Marpha; ag Chode monastery in agbeni.

OPENING SPREAD: Looking over Lo Manthang.

BELOW: A stupa overlooked by the haulagiri mountain range.

ABOVE: Snow-covered peaks of Nilgiri North, part of the Annapurna range.

RIGHT FROM THE TOP:

ag Chode uddhist temple in agbeni; The barren landscape near Ghami.

sadhu, or holy person, on the pilgrimage route to Muktinath,

A man sits with his prayer wheel in Lo Manthang.

PAGES:

LEFT FROM THE TOP:

A temple of the indigenous on religion in the village of Lupra; Looking over the rugged and mountainous landscape to the village of hakmar.

RIGHT FROM THE TOP:

The village of Lupra, with the Annapurna range behind; Stupas in Ghar Gumba; Monks walking through the village of Tsarang.

FOLLOWING

The pre-dawn light hits the mountains near Lo Manthang.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

Upper Mustang is reached by either a 20-minute flight from Pokhara to Jomsom, or by a long drive from Pokhara.

BEST TIME TO GO

April to early October. In May, visitors can witness the Tiji Festival in Lo Manthang.

CURRENCY Nepalese rupee

TIME ZONE GMT +5:45

FOOD

Staple food includes dal bhat, Tibetan noodle soup and steamed, filled dumplings called momo

WHERE TO STAY

Accommodation in Upper Mustang is basic and limited. You’ll be given a hot water bottle or an electric blanket to keep warm as central heating is not available. Regardless of where you stay or the limited facilities, you can always be assured of a warm welcome.

HOW TO DO IT

The region is best explored by trekking or in a 4x4. In both instances, you’re required to have a permit and a registered guide.

MUST-PACK ITEM

In early spring, pack thermals and a hot water bottle as temperatures can be sub-zero. Sunscreen is a must all year round due to the high altitudes and mostly clear days, Be sure to visit your doctor in advance to discuss altitude-sickness medication, as heights here reach above 3,000ft.

WHY GO

For the stunning mountain scenery of the Annapurna and Dhaulagiri mountain ranges, as well as the untouched Buddhist culture that still thrives in the region.

SIMON RICHMOND RIDES THE MINIATURE ROMNEY, HYTHE AND DYMCHURCH RAILWAY ACROSS KENT’S ROMNEY MARSH TO THE OTHERWORLDLY SHINGLE HEADLAND OF DUNGENESS.

THE EDGE OF THE

FIFTH CONTINENT

There’s a saying that Dungeness is the last place that God made, but that he forgot to finish it. This cuspate headland on

the southeast Kent coast is Europe’s largest expanse of shingle. Its principal man-made features are a monolithic nuclear power station, a pair of priapic lighthouses, a miniature railway, and a scattering of cottages and weather-beaten fishing boats. These disparate elements, emphasised by the Ness’s extreme flatness and wide-open horizons, seem haphazard and surreal. Small wonder it featured as a location in a 1970s Dr Who story. Aeons of longshore drift joined this one-time island to the mainland. The lagoon of sea caught behind a shingle bank silted up and was later drained to form the wider Romney Marsh. Much of the land around here remains below sea level. And, although often referred to as a desert, Dungeness is in fact teaming with diverse, but fragile, plant and invertebrate communities. For this reason, it is designated as a National Nature Reserve, Special Protection Area and a Special Area of Conservation.

Perhaps most remarkably, this isolated, wind-blown location has become a contemporary cultural landmark thanks to the modern history of Prospect Cottage. This early 2 th-century fisherman’s dwelling was the home of the artist and filmmaker erek arman

from 1987 until his death in 1994. The cottage was, according to Jarman, ‘the last of a long line of “escape houses” I started building as a child at the end of the garden.’

As a solace and distraction from being HIV positive, Jarman retreated to Prospect Cottage to make art and plant his own garden. Designed to survive in the harshest of conditions, this collection of hardy plants, carefully curated pebbles and stones, and enigmatic sculptures crafted from driftwood and scrap metal, was ahead of its time. It has been an inspiration to subsequent generations of gardeners.

(It was while on an outing to Dungeness in June 1990 that the renowned British horticulturists Beth Chatto and Christopher Lloyd came across the cottage and chatted to Jarman about his gardening methods and plantings. Chatto, a star of the Chelsea Flower

Show, was particularly impressed and would later seek advice from Jarman as she set about creating her own gravel garden –now world-famous – at her home in Great Elmstead, Essex.)

I have long been fascinated by Prospect Cottage and its garden, and have made frequent pilgrimages to Dungeness since moving to nearby Folkestone in 2015. At this southern edge of Romney Marsh – a place of maritime danger and natural wonder, known, only-half jokingly, as the Fifth Continent – I come to immerse myself in the mercurial environment, to dig deeper into its multi-layered history and to savour its solitary atmosphere.

It’s early April, the sun is beaming down after a long winter, and there’s a sense of anticipation at the Hythe station of the Romney, Hythe

OPENING SPREAD: Fishing boat on Dungeness beach.

OPPOSITE PAGE FROM THE TOP:

Abandoned boat on the shingle beach at Dungeness; Common starfish washed ashore at Dungeness; Prospect Cottage, home of the late filmmaker and artist erek arman.

ABOVE: Fairfield Church on Romney Marsh.

and Dymchurch Railway (RHDR). A small crowd has gathered to welcome back the newly overhauled Doctor Syn on its first public outing in five years. Chugging into the station, trailing candy-floss clouds of steam, this one-third scale, Canadian-Pacific-style steam locomotive gleams handsomely in its bootpolish black and brass livery.

Extracting himself from the diminutive engine cab is train driver Mark Lane. Looking dapper in a black cap with a red kerchief knotted around his neck, Lane has maintained and driven the venerable Doctor Syn since 2010. ‘I must have done over 100,000 miles on it before its service,’ he tells me of this black beauty named after the 18th-century vicar/ smuggler hero of a series of novels by Russell Thorndike that are set in nearby Dymchurch.

That old-fashioned coastal resort is the first stop along the -inch gauge track

that runs for 13½ miles between Hythe and Dungeness. This ‘Kent mainline in miniature’ was the dream project of racing driver Count Louis Zborowski (whose racing car, named Chitty Bang Bang, inspired Ian Fleming’s children’s book of the same name) and an eccentric Edwardian millionaire and fellow speedster Captain J E P Howey.

Killed while racing in the Italian Grand Prix, Zborowski never lived to see the railway open in 1927. The RHDR’s immediate popularity saw the line extended from New Romney to Dungeness the following year. In those preWorld War II years, it became famous as the ‘smallest public railway in the world’. Following Howey’s death in 1963, the RHDR’s fate looked bleak, until a consortium headed up by railway enthusiast Sir William McAlpine came to the rescue in 3. Today a fleet of vintage steam engines and two diesel locomotives are the pride and joy of a much-loved operation with 3 paid staff and dedicated volunteers.

At a little after 9.15am, with a long toot on its steam whistle, Doctor Syn begins its journey towards Dungeness. If proof is needed of the special place that the railway has in locals’ hearts, it’s provided by the parade of people who show up along the track or stand in their back gardens waving and photographing the train as it rattles by.

Chugging along at a leisurely speed of no more than 20 miles per hour, the RHDR is the ideal way to take in the surrounding sights. Romney arsh’s pancake-flat fields, etched with dykes and drainage channels (known locally as sewers) and grazed by flocks of sheep, hold many curiosities and surprises, including Alpaca Annie’s herd of fluffy alpacas on Haguelands Farm, shortly before Dymchurch station.

The service I’m on is not stopping at Dymchurch, home to one of Kent’s best

THIS PAGE FROM THE LEFT: Doctor Syn being readied for service; Mark Lane shovels coal into Doctor Syn.

OPPOSITE PAGE FROM THE TOP: Engine driver polishing the Green Goddess loco, which operates a passenger service between Hythe and Dungeness; Sunset on the beach at Dymchurch.

beaches. The town was a smuggling hotspot during the 17th and 18th centuries, with the biannual Day of Syn playing up to this notoriety. The pageant, which sees Dymchurch thronged by costumed revellers re-enacting smuggler battles and trials, has been a fixture of the August bank holiday since 1964.

Doctor Syn does briefly pause at ew Romney, the RHDR headquarters that’s home to its engineering works, train sheds, heritage centre and model railway exhibition. Captain Howey’s ashes were scattered at the station and just beyond the 24-lever signal box is Red Tiles, the house that he built so that he could live close to his railway.

Lane and engineering manager Richard Featherstone make checks around the locomotive, lubricating its moving parts and stoking the engine with Welsh coal. Among the fans on the platform is a character wearing a red fez, studded with pins in the shape of Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. By way of explanation, ‘Mad Paul’ tells me how the Hollywood legends dropped by the station in 1947 to cut the ribbon for the reopening of the line to Dungeness.

Another blast on the steam whistle and Doctor Syn chugs off for the final leg of the journey. Punctuating the horizon to the west across Denge Marsh are the wind turbines at Little Cheyne Court and the bell tower of All Saints Church at Lydd. One of Romney Marsh’s collection of characterful medieval churches, All Saints incorporates a fragment of Roman basilica dating to the late 5th century. Nearby, but hidden from view as we pass through Romney Sands station, are the tussocky dunes of Greatstone. West of the station, shielded by the chalets and caravans of the Romney Sands Holiday Park, sit the Denge Sound Mirrors. Built between 1928 and 1935, these giant concrete listening ears became obsolete when radar was invented. They are now protected as part of the RSPB Dungeness Nature Reserve.

A few minutes later the train emerges from its narrow corridor between the homes

at Lydd-on-Sea to the panoramic vistas of Dungeness. Tracing a graceful arc, Doctor Syn pulls into the terminus. Here, station manager Stephen Waters tells me that visitors often ask where to find ‘the film-man’s garden’.

Before heading there myself, the sunny weather tempts me to take in the amazing views from the top of the old lighthouse opposite. Since 1615, eight lighthouses have been erected at Dungeness, and this one, completed in 1904 and in use until 1960, was the fourth to guide sailors around this treacherous promontory.

From the lighthouse balcony, 150ft above ground, the RHDR looks even more like a toy train set. The elevated perspective does little to diminish the looming menace of the

LEFT: Mad Paul’, wearing his pin-studded fez,

ABOVE: Lydd-on-Sea sandy beach and Dungeness Nature Reserve.

OPPOSITE PAGE FROM THE TOP: Denge Sound Mirrors; Lydd High Street.

nuclear power station, which is in the process of being slowly decommissioned. I can also see directly into another Dungeness garden – that within the wall-sheltered base of what was once the third lighthouse. Jarman was not the first resident of ungeness to find a way of gardening in this unpromising terrain.

In fact, Dungeness Nature Reserve is home to some 600 species of vegetation, an incredible third of all plants found in the UK. Through the shingle naturally burst glaucus sprays of sea kale and the buttery yellow flowers of dwarf broom bushes. Around Dungeness Open Studios – the home, studio and gallery of artist Paddy Hamilton – I spot wallflowers and grape hyacinths.

Hamilton has lived at Dungeness for over

THE BLAZE OF WILDFLOWERS TRANSFORMS DUNGENESS INTO A POINTILLIST PAINTING OF COLOURFUL DOTS.

20 years. In that time, he’s nurtured his own remarkable garden around an artful group of buildings, including a chicken coop built in 1886, an old winch house and a shed once used to store shrimps and fish bait. ere, too, is one of the 30 old train carriages, converted by railway workers into their homes in the 1920s, which are still located across the Dungeness estate.

Don’t be fooled, however, by the rustic, ramshackle look of Dungeness. Only two fishing families remain in the hamlet and most properties on the estate are now holiday homes, with a particularly stylishly converted railway carriage selling for £425,000 in 2021.

The price tag on Prospect Cottage, and all its contents, was £3.5 million following the death of Keith Collins in 2018; Collins was

arman’s close companion in his final years, and it was to him that he bequeathed the property. In 2020, a successful crowdfunding campaign secured Prospect Cottage for the nation. It also created an endowment, to conserve and maintain the building, its contents and the garden in perpetuity.

Creative Folkestone has been appointed the cottage’s custodian and now runs residencies here as well as small-group guided visits inside to view Jarman’s artworks and personal belongings. Nearly 30 years may have passed since his death, but everything you see – from Jarman’s tactile tar paintings and props used in his films, to the driftwood sculptures and rosaries of hag stones – speak of his imaginative, iconoclastic life.

As I approach the iconic pitch-black

building with its distinctive yellow painted window frames and door, and gable end inscribed with a poem by John Donne, I can see a small team of people tending to the garden. By happy chance, I’m here on one of the three annual volunteer days arranged by Jonny Bruce, the garden’s long-time caretaker. ‘I also try to come once a month for a couple of days,’ says Bruce, ‘but the garden was always designed to be low maintenance.’

ruce first learned about Prospect Cottage after receiving a gift of Jarman’s book Modern Nature from his mother when he was studying art history at Cambridge. Later, while working at nearby Great Dixter, he began to assist Collins with the garden. ‘We maintain it in

the spirit of Jarman and Collins without being too constrained by the history of the place,’ he says before returning to weeding around a rusted anchor chain shaped into a circle on the shingle.

In two months, the garden’s muted palate of mottled browns and greys will be augmented by the blaze of wildflowers that transform Dungeness into a pointillist painting of colourful dots. Orange and red California poppies, blue echiums and magenta foxgloves will be the floral stars in erek’s beautiful garden. As I stroll away, ready for lunch at the nearby Dungeness Snack Shack, I can’t help but agree with my partner Steve that this place is ‘magical in the weirdest way possible’.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

The most convenient mainline trains stations are Ashford International, Folkestone and Rye, from where buses run to Hythe, New Romney and Dungeness.

BEST TIME TO GO

From early April you’re likely to spot newly born lambs gambolling in Romney Marsh’s fields. The end of May into early June is best for flower displays at ungeness.

CURRENCY Pound sterling

TIME ZONE GMT

FOOD

Heaven on a plate is a grilled scallop bun from the Dungeness Snack Shack (dungenesssnackshack.net), operating out of a converted shipping container. The Pilot Inn (thepilotdungeness. co.uk) at Lydd-on-Sea is also famous for its fish and chips.

WHERE TO STAY

Bloom Stays (bloomstays. com) represents several of the Dungeness’s most unique self-catering holiday cottages, including a converted 1950s coastguard tower and the contemporary-styled Pump Station.

HOW TO DO IT

Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway (rhdr.org.uk) trains run year-round, but only daily from the end of March to the end of September.

See Creative Folkestone (creativefolkestone.org.uk/ prospect-cottage) for details of Prospect Cottage tours.

MUST-PACK ITEM

Everywhere Means Something to Someone – The People’s Guidebook to omney Marsh (strangecargo.org.uk) brings the region alive.

WHY GO

When it comes to extraordinary British landscapes with incredible histories and rich biodiversity, it’s hard to beat Dungeness.

THIS SPREAD FROM THE TOP: onny ruce, caretaker of Prospect Cottage’s garden; Lighthouse on the beach at Dungeness.

Photo Credits: Dreamstime and Simon Richmond.

Celebrations of change

Known as the ‘Festival of Light’, Loi Krathong dates back over 700 years and is a cherished Thai cultural event, celebrated on the full-moon night of the twelfth lunar month. Paying homage to the water goddess Mae Khongkha, the festival serves as a thanksgiving for the abundance of water, and is celebrated around the country by people releasing intricately crafted and decorated banana-leaf boats – known as krathongs – on rivers to symbolise the letting go of negativity and their wishes for a brighter future. The festivities in the northern city of Chiang Mai have evolved to become one of the country’s most vibrant celebrations. While you can still witness traditional river o erings and lantern releases, a visit during Loi rathong will coincide with beauty pageants, folk music and extravagant parades.

PHOTO ESSAY BY KAV DADFAR

RIGHT: The city is decorated with lanterns for the celebrations, especially around the Old Town.

OPENING SPREAD: Wat Phan Tao decorated during Loi Krathong.

ABOVE: A young girl gets ready for the festival’s beauty pageant.

ABOVE:

All of the temples in Chiang Mai are decorated during the festival, such as Wat Phan On temple complex.

LEFT FROM THE TOP:

A band prepares to start the evening parade; Makeup is applied to one of the evening’s performers.

ABOVE FROM THE TOP: Lanterns are hung in the streets during the festival; An extravagant float during the parade; More lanterns in Chiang Mai’s streets.

LEFT:

Two performers dressed and ready to star in the evening parade.

FOLLOWING PAGES:

Wat Chedi Luang becomes a vibrant hub of activity and celebration during the festival. The temple premises attract both locals and tourists who gather to participate in various traditional rituals and festivities.

THIS PAGE: People flock to the moat around the ld Town to float lanterns on the water.

OPPOSITE PAGE FROM THE TOP:

Performers dressed in traditional clothes; Food stalls, such as this one selling pork meatballs, keep the spectators fed.

FOLLOWING PAGES:

Floats travel through Chiang Mai’s streets during the evening parade, often representing various aspects of Thai culture and folklore.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

Chiang Mai International Airport is well served by both domestic and international flights.

BEST TIME TO GO

The festival is typically held in November and spans several days, with the main events concentrated around the full-moon night.

CURRENCY Thai baht

TIME ZONE GMT+7

FOOD

Be sure to try khao soi, a popular and distinctive northern Thai dish of egg noodles in a creamy and aromatic curry broth, topped with tender meat (usually chicken or beef), crispy noodles, pickled mustard greens, shallots and lime.

WHERE TO STAY

From hotels to hostels and everything in between, there are plenty of options. Be sure to book well in advance as the city gets very busy during this time.

HOW TO DO IT

As the exact dates may vary each year, it’s recommended to check local announcements for the specific dates of the festival and arrive a day or two before the events kick off. It’s a good idea to sort your accommodation as soon as dates are confirmed as hotels book up quickly.

MUST-PACK ITEM

Insect repellent for the evenings.

WHY GO

This is a captivating celebration that allows you to immerse yourself in Thai culture, witness stunning lantern displays and participate in traditions associated with gratitude and letting go.

A tale of three communities

IMOGEN LEPERE VISITS THREE REMOTE COMMUNITIES FIGHTING TO SECURE THEIR FUTURE – AS WELL AS THAT OF THE LAND THEY CALL HOME – THROUGH ECOTOURISM, AGAINST A BACKDROP OF WIDENING INEQUALITY IN BRAZIL

Bobbing in a little boat towards the Ilha do Ara jo, off the coast of Paraty, photographer Mark Rammers and I are struck by the fact that everything seems to be painted blue. The pier is the colour of the sky in children’s books, as are the shutters of the church and the doors of the tile-roofed houses. A tiny caf , where dreamcatchers made of driftwood shift slightly in the soupy breeze, is daubed the same cheerful shade.

‘ ow come everything’s blue ’ I ask our guide, Cristiano ernandes da onseca.

‘Probably because it was the only paint they had so they all decided to share,’ he shrugs.

Making the most of what’s available and sharing the rewards is a theme that crops up throughout my ecotourism-focused three weeks in Brazil. At the time of my visit, left-wing Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva has just returned for his third term as president, taking over from right-wing Jair Bolsonaro who chose to fly to lorida rather than attend his rival’s inauguration. Although political opinion remains bitterly divided among Brazilians –not least because Lula was released from jail for corruption barely three years ago – even Bolsonaro’s supporters don’t claim the environment is top of his priorities. Upon assuming o ce, he promptly eliminated the Climate Change Division (which had until then spearheaded razil’s climate efforts at the U ) and granted numerous new licenses meaning that 2021 saw deforestation in the Amazon reaching its highest level for 15 years.

Despite this, community-run ecotourism projects continue to thrive, although Brazil’s worsening inequality crisis (the World Population Review named it the ninth most unequal country in the world this year) means

they’re facing a new set of struggles.

Back on the Ilha do Araújo, we sit down for syrupy coffee with -year-old Almir T who apologises for the slight whiff of prawn on his shirt. Although he’s been leading the community’s efforts to protect the bucolic tuft they call home since the 1990s and was instrumental in founding the Ilha do Araújo Association – which has been coordinating ecotourism on the island since 2012 – he still gets up at 3am most days to fish.

‘I’m a bit of everything,’ says Almir, who learned to read at the age of and established a public library of 3,000 books (which have since sadly been lost to termites).

‘I take my social and cultural obligations seriously but providing fish for my family all these years is my greatest accomplishment –and pleasure.’

is sister comes over and offers us a stillsteaming coxinha (plump dumplings stuffed with shrimp) and a jug of fresh coconut water. ‘The sea is so important to Caiçara people that men often name their canoes after their wives,’ Almir laughs.

The Caiçaras are a distinct group who live in traditional communities in the surviving fragments of Atlantic Forest that wind like an emerald serpent along the coast of southeastern Brazil. Their heritage is a blend of indigenous Amerindians, European colonisers and enslaved Africans, and although fishing and farming still provide the lion’s share of their livelihoods, the younger generation is flocking to the cities of Rio de aneiro and S o Paulo.

‘Our traditional jobs are less reliable because there’s no equilibrium in the climate anymore – seven of my siblings died in landslides caused by last summer’s floods,’ he tells me, looking down at his clasped hands. ‘Then there are government-led initiatives. For example, it’s illegal to catch prawns between March and June nowadays.’

He leads the way slowly along the island’s only ‘road’, a dirt track lined by forest that opens up to provide glimpses of men mending nets and gardens shaded by trailing hibiscus blooms. The teal of the Bahia Grande is occasionally broken by the beaks of pelicans plunging through its surface like torpedoes.

OPENING SPREAD: Engenho Lodge, part of the Ibiti Project.

THIS SPREAD FROM THE LEFT: The Ilha do Araujo; White heron on rocks on the Ilha do Araujo.

‘Electricity only came here in 2018 and young people like all that excitement in the cities…’ His voice trails off vaguely disapprovingly.

Tourism arrived on Ilha do Araújo in the 1980s in the form of sailors anchoring yachts in the bay and rowing ashore for food. By the 1990s, day-trippers were coming to the island’s beaches by the boatload from Paraty, leaving behind mounds of litter but little money.

‘We realised that if they spent more time here it would be a chance to share our traditions with them – and learn from them too. My son, Alex, learned English from a tourist and now works in the Pousada Literária hotel in Paraty. We set up homestays and created

a tour that includes a visit to my woodcarving studio, the chance to try fish cooked in banana leaves and an introduction to the plant knowledge our ancestors handed down orally.’ He pauses to pluck a few carrapicho pods from his sleeve, which will later be steeped into tea to treat anxiety. ‘These days, around 30% of the community’s income is from tourism and there are still 130 families living here.’

As we approach the northern shoreline, the blare of daytime TV replaces the whistling of monkeys. More than 55 families have sold to second homers in the last few years and although the Ilha do Araújo Association has

ABOVE: The Marina Pescador Praia Grande, from where taxi boats take people to the Ilha do Araújo.

RAIN CLOUDS SWIRL AROUND THE PEAKS OF TIJUCA STATE PARK ABOVE OUR HEADS, GIVING

EVERYTHING A SECRETIVE, INSULATED AIR.

stringent policies (new owners must meet the whole community before signing contracts and can’t fell any trees), T worries about the inevitable watering down of Caiçara culture.

‘Some months, this part of the island is a ghost town. See these walls?’ He points to a fence more than ft high. ‘They are a symbol of town people. We don’t put barriers between our houses because we trust each other.

Money can’t buy you that.’ The association is currently funding an ecotourism guiding course for the island’s teenagers in the hope that it will encourage them to stay.

Back on the mainland, the four-hour drive to Rio de Janeiro winds through a landscape that looks as if it has been plucked from the pages of The Hobbit. Waterfalls gleam

like knives hundreds of feet above us, while vast Brazilwood trees cradle ecosystems of bromeliads in their expansive arms. The iconic beachfront of Copacabana, where luxury hotels such as Emiliano Rio gleam above the Malecón, gradually gives way as the road curves up again towards the Vale Encantado.

‘We’re the end of the road both literally and figuratively,’ says sixth-generation resident Otavio alves Barros, leaning against a wooden slide and surveying the skyscrapers of Barra, one of Rio’s glossiest neighbourhoods, spread out like a carpet far below. Rain clouds swirl around the peaks of Tijuca State Park above our heads, giving everything a secretive, insulated air. We’re so far above the city it feels as if we’re floating. The metal roofs of the ale’s houses stand out against the emerald of the forest, which grows so verdantly on all sides it feels as if it might swallow them in the end.

There’s a crash. Mark has climbed up on the slide to get a better shot and shot right through the rotten wood. Otavio helps him up and sighs. ‘The government built this playground in the run up to elections years ago so they could say they cared about the favela families, but there’s been no money to maintain it. Now it’s a danger to kids – not that there are many left.’

Although it’s barely more than a 30-minutes’ drive from downtown Rio, this picturesque community is also battling population loss due to the closure of the granite mine, which once provided much of the villagers’ income, and a lack of public transport. In 2015, there were 140 residents; now only 100 remain.

‘Only ten people in the village have cars and we’re always helping each other out,’ says Otavio (who is a licensed tour guide), leading the way past an anaerobic sewage system he fitted himself with the help of ouTube. ‘The reality is it’s hard to get into work, which is why both my children moved to the city. But I’m so proud to come from this place and we know ecotourism can help protect all this for generations to come.’ He gestures at a blue orpheus butterfly the size of his fist, flitting towards a banana blossom. ‘Where else can you find tranquillity like this so near the city ’

When researching the Vale Encantado, I came across an article in a local newspaper from 2015 which described it as ‘Rio’s most sustainable favela’ (although the term ‘community’ is currently considered more politically correct), citing self-made achievements such as solar panels and a kitchen garden nourished by food waste from a restaurant that catered to hiking groups. All were overseen by a community cooperative founded in 2005, with initial funding provided by a French NGO called Abaquar Paris (which ceased to operate in 2 2).

Today, both the administrative and physical infrastructure is still in place and

Otavio remains committed to his vision of creating an ecotourism haven complete with several guest rooms, hiking trails and a farm-to-table restaurant. As I stand on the former and hopefully soon-to-be-again restaurant’s deck drinking in spectacular views, I understand why. However, the kitchen below is coated in dust and none of the appliances are plugged in.

‘Since Abaquar closed down we’ve relied on private donations and they pretty much dried up in the pandemic,’ admits Otavio, cooking dinner in a home decorated with

rosary beads and family photos. ‘We need around US , to finish the guest rooms and kitchen and don’t know where we’re going to find it. Right now, that is.’ e wraps his hands around my bowl of feijoada (black bean and pork stew) to check it isn’t too hot before handing it to me.

Just before sunrise, I lie in a crochet hammock and listen to the forest’s fanfare. The ocean blushes opalescent peach. Otavio is cheerfully slicing home-grown papaya by candlelight as the valley is experiencing one of its frequent power cuts. He’s one of the

warmest hosts I’ve ever met and the beauty of the landscape is otherworldly but I can’t help feeling concerned about the project’s future – and what might happen to the community if they can’t raise the funds to see it through. Although it’s based on similar principles, the luxurious Ibiti Project feels like another world. While the Ilha do Araújo and Vale Encantado have emerged organically, this patchwork of , hectares of degraded farmland in the mountains of Minas Gerais has been acquired by Brazilian businessman Renato achado, specifically with the vision of

ABOVE:

OPPOSITE PAGE FROM THE TOP: Pedra da Gávea rising above Barra da Tijuca in Rio de Janeiro; Tile map and water fountain at Tijuca Forest National Park; A brown capuchin monkey, commonly found in Tijuca Forest National Park.

Otavio Barros shows samples from his self-built water purification system.

creating a regenerative community powered by ecotourism. A key part of the vision is funding low-impact microbusinesses owned by locals throughout the country.

One example is Engenho Lodge, which we approach in the lilac evening when its lights dance on the lake’s surface to the sound of a grand piano. It looks every inch the hacienda from Brazil’s colonial past but was in fact built entirely from upcycled and local materials in 2008. In comparison to the building site I slept in at the Vale Encantado, my bedroom seems even more exquisite: a Scandinavianmeets-Latin-American dream complete with a standalone bath, door as thick as a monastery’s and an embroidered wall hanging in the dazzling fuchsia of bougainvillea flowers.

For all its charm, I initially feel a little biased against the Ibiti Project, particularly with Almir and Otavio’s worries so fresh in my mind. It seems its professionalism must come at the cost of its heart. However, my scepticism melts when I meet owner Claudia Baumgratz, whose father’s farm is nearby. Over a dinner of exquisite local ingredients – ravioli swimming in butter fragrant with forest herbs, river fish gleaming with sugarcane jus she fills in the histories of the 3 staff currently involved in the project, almost all of whom are local.

‘That lady stirring the pan is Tatiane Aparecida da Silva. She ran away when she was as her parents were making her sleep in their room so she couldn’t meet her boyfriend at night. That young guy is Alyson da Silva. He moved back from the city when he got the job in our kitchen.’

A waiter whispers in Claudia’s ear. Her face lights up. ‘One of the guides, Junior, has just radioed to tell us that he saw a jaguar with two pups crossing the path on his way home from work. Before the project, this land was around 10% forest and 90% degraded pasture and we’re hoping to get it back to 98% forest. It takes 500 years for a forest to fully recover –but if the jaguars are back, we’re on the right track.’

After dinner, I stand on the terrace and stare into the darkness. The project may still be way off its target, but there’s no doubt this land is alive: leaves whisper, unfortunate prey gives its final squeak, the hotel workers return to their village and, somewhere out there, a jaguar believes in this ecosystem enough to choose it to raise her pups. What better proof of hope could we ask for?

CLOCKWISE FROM THE TOP LEFT: Houses in the beautiful Vale Encantado; Tatiane Aparecida da Silva, one of the chefs at Engenho Lodge, prepares a late lunch; Engenho Lodge as seen from the road; A traditional wood stove at Engenho Lodge.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

The best way to reach all three communities is by flying to Rio de Janeiro and then hiring a car.

BEST TIME TO GO

Southeastern Brazil can be visited all year round, though June to December is generally considered peak season. The rains pour from December to March making some rural roads connecting the Ibiti Project impassable.

CURRENCY Brazilian real TIME ZONE GMT -3

FOOD

Both the Ilha do Araújo and Vale Encantado provide home-cooked comfort food like rice, feijoada and white fish steamed in banana leaves. At Engenho Lodge, much of the food is grown on-site and the breakfast buffet is exceptional.

WHERE TO STAY

Homestays on Ilha do Araújo can be booked on airbnb. To stay in Otavio Barros’s house, message @vale_encantadorj on Instagram. Visit ibiti.com to book Engenho Lodge.

HOW TO DO IT

Private tour specialist Jacada Travel (jacadatravel. com) offers an ethical Brazil itinerary that includes a day trip to the Ilha do Araújo with accommodation in Pousada Literaria and five nights at the Ibiti Project with bookending nights in Rio at Emiliano, a luxurious design hotel. Book tours and stays at Vale Encantado through Instagram (@vale_encantadorj).

MUST-PACK ITEM

Deet-based mosquito repellent.

WHY GO

To have a positive impact on remote communities and an authentic cultural experience in Brazil’s Atlantic Forest, which is far more accessible than the Amazon and equally biodiverse.

Photo Credits: Marcio Brigatto; Alamy; Mark Rammers; Dreamstime.

THE BOWL

MAKER

The iconic Korean dish bibimbap finds its roots in Jeonju, 120 miles south of Seoul in North Jeolla province. It’s a hearty mix of rice and an array of toppings — from raw or grilled beef and egg yolk to yellow-bean jelly and ginkgo nuts. Appropriately, Jeonju’s maeul (old town) is a mix too, of historical dwellings and contemporary street food, cultural heritage and 21stcentury distractions. In an unassuming farming village on the eastern edge of the city lives Jong-deok Lee, recognised as an ‘Intangible Cultural Property’ and one of just a handful of artisans still making bibimbap bowls in the traditional way. Known as bangjja or yugi, the bowls are made following an extraordinary 14-step process that can be traced back nearly 5,000 years to ancient Persia.

PHOTO ESSAY BY MARK PARREN TAYLOR

Jong-deok starts hammering the plate into bowl form, which requires many reheatings to make the alloy consistently pliable.

RIGHT:

A couple stroll through Jeonju’s old town in hired hanbok costumes.

ABOVE:

ABOVE: Despite the cluttered appearance of his workshop, Jong-deok’s work is methodical and precise.

OPENING SPREAD: It’s hot work in the workshop, and the heat of the furnace and the physical e ort takes its toll on ong-deok.

ABOVE:

When repeatedly heated to 1,300°C, the bowl can be hammered, pulled and formed.

LEFT: Jong-deok Lee, ‘Jeonbuk Intangible Cultural Property No. 43’.

ABOVE:

Jong-deok Lee starts by heating a disk of copper and tin alloy to 1,300°C.

FROM THE TOP:

At the end of the hammering process, Jong-deok gets ready to move the bowl into cold water; One of Jong-deok’s apprentices burnishes the newly formed bibimbap bowl; Jong-deok shoves the lava-hot bowl into a vat of cold water to shock it.

Jong-deok continues to form the bowl through heating and hammering, a stage that can take two hours.

ABOVE:

A beautiful, shimmering bibimbap bowl, handmade by Jong-deok.

BELOW:

Enjoying a bowl of bibimbap at Hanguk-jip Restaurant in Jeonju.

ABOVE: The morning’s work in Jong-deok Lee’s hands.

BELOW: The streets of Jeonju’s maeul buzz as the sun gets low, and visitors in traditional hanbok costume enjoy street food.

FOLLOWING PAGES: The view over the maeul rooftops at dusk from Café Jeonmang, on top of Jeonmang Guesthouse.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

Jeonju is connected to Seoul by frequent trains.

BEST TIME TO GO Spring (March–May) and autumn (Sept–Nov) are full of pleasant sunshine without the extremes of icy January and sticky July.

CURRENCY Won

TIME ZONE GMT+9

FOOD

As home to bibimbap, this is definitely the dish to try in Jeonju. Hanguk-jip Restaurant (Eojin-gil 119) makes arguably one of the best versions. Invention rules here, too: try a bibimbap baguette at Gyodong Croquette (Gyeonggijeon-gil 126).

WHERE TO STAY

There’s a wide range of accommodations, including well-priced internationalstyle hotels, in the modern city. Head to the old town for homestays and more interesting places to stay, including Jeonmang Guesthouse (Hanji-gil 89) and the charming Hagindang (Hyanggyo-gil 45; hagindang. modoo.at), in a traditional hanok courtyard house.

HOW TO DO IT

Explore the town on a segway or e-scooter; some maeul hotels and homestays also provide complimentary oldschool pushbikes.

MUST-PACK ITEM

A translation app, such as Google Translate, for your phone. As well as assisting with polite day-to-day communication, it will help translate all those bewildering restaurant menus.

WHY GO

Jeonju’s old town provides an alternative take on Korean tradition, cuisine, and both ancient and contemporary culture. It is accessible, varied and welcoming, and handily focused on a small central area.

THE YEAR OF ALABAMA BIRDING

More than 400 species of birds grace the blue skies above Alabama, including the majestic bald eagle, the endangered red-cockaded woodpecker and the multicoloured painted bunting. There has never been a better time to experience this birding paradise than now – the Year of Alabama Birding. With birdwatching trails and events on offer across the state, the initiative provides the ideal opportunity to explore Alabama’s huge array of sights and sounds. From the foothills of the Appalachians to the sugar-white sands of the south, with forests, meadows and swamps – and more – in between, Alabama’s diversity of landscapes has created a plethora of avian habitats. Beyond birds, there’s plenty more to discover here – not least the state’s 22 state parks, which encompass 48,000 acres of land and water and provide endless opportunities to enjoy the great outdoors.

RIGHT: A male painted bunting.

ABOVE: The critically endangered red-cockaded woodpecker.

ABOVE: A great blue heron on Orange Beach.

OPENING SPREAD: An osprey in mid-flight.

PREVIOUS PAGES: Sandhill cranes in midflight.

OPPOSITE PAGE: A brown pelican.

THIS PAGE FROM THE TOP: A northern mockingbird; A lone osprey.

A great blue heron.

RIGHT:

A northern cardinal.

FOLLOWING PAGES CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Unclaimed Baggage’s 50th anniversary truck; A bald eagle; Whooping and sandhill cranes; Fat Boys BBQ in Prattville.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

Alabama’s major cities – particularly Huntsville, Birmingham, Mobile and Montgomery – are well-served by domestic flights. Most international travellers arrive via Atlanta, New Orleans or Nashville.

BEST TIME TO GO

April and October are the best times for birdwatching as they coincide with the spring and autumn migrations. The spring is arguably the best time, as birds tend to be easier to spot due to being tired from their long flights. That said, during autumn the migration is spread out over a longer period of time.

CURRENCY  US dollar

TIME ZONE   GMT -6

FOOD

Alabama is as big on flavour as it is on personality. Follow the BBQ Trail, which lists restaurants on a smartphone app, including pit stops at gas stations and Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q in Decatur, where the original Alabama White Sauce was developed in 1925. For a change from BBQ, check out Chris’s Famous Hotdogs in Montgomery, and the award-winning restaurants in Birmingham, known as the ‘Dinner Table of the South’. Finally, be sure not to miss the fresh-from-the-gulf seafood, which includes shrimp, red snapper and crab.

WHERE TO STAY

There’s a whole host of places to stay in the state, from boutique and city hotels to log cabins.

HOW TO DO IT

The easiest way to explore Alabama is by car - rental agencies are based at all the major airports. For more information on birding trails, visit alabama.travel.

MUST-PACK ITEM

Binoculars and a camera. If you really want to capture those close-up bird photos, make sure you take a telephoto lens.

WHY GO

Alabama is home to one of the rarest birds in North America, the endangered whooping crane; known for its whooping sound, this is the tallest North American bird and one of only two native crane species.

Photo Credits: All photos courtesy of Alabama Tourism Department and Beth Cowan Drake; Chris Granger; Art Meripole with the exception of p124 top image: Alamy and p125: Dreamstime.

BROUGHT TO YOU IN PARTNERSHIP WITH

The Frankincense

Frankincense Trail

FOLLOWS THE GHOSTS OF MERCHANTS, SULTANS AND CAMELS IN SEARCH OF AN ANCIENT TRADE ROUTE AND A GLIMPSE OF A LONGFORGOTTEN WORLD.

JOE WORTHINGTON

rankincense. The ancient Egyptians used it in their religious rites; the Jewish Torah refers to it countless times as a purifying incense so divine that it was reserved for only the holiest of occasions; and it was one of the three gifts carried across the desert by the Magi for the baby Jesus. This most precious of resins had the power to make or break great empires.

I’m in Oman, the land of frankincense, to follow the ancient caravan routes along the trail left behind by this mystical ingredient. Locals in Salalah, a city in the arid Dhofar region in the south of the country, proudly tell tales passed down through generations of visits from legends of history, including Marco Polo, Lawrence of Arabia and the Queen of Sheba. ‘They came here for al luban [the Arabic name for Frankincense]. Queen Sheba even

built a palace in Sumhuran [an ancient port city near modern-day Salalah] on the trade route,’ a stallholder in the souk tells me while he wafts frankincense bakhoor (fragrancesoaked woodchips) in my face. ‘She used to intercept shipments and hoard chests full of frankincense because she loved the smell so much.’

Bottles of liquid frankincense are everywhere in the souk, alongside piles of milky white frankincense boiled sweets, skin creams and fragrant pure oils. It’s obvious the resin remains important in everyday Omani life, but to see its real influence not just how it appeals to modern consumers I need to get out of the city.

Fy first stop on the rankincense Trail is Al-Baleed Archaeological Park, a Unesco World Heritage Site that was once the site of the ancient city of af r. uring medieval times, after the decline of the city of Sumhuran, this area became the most important port for frankincense shipping in the Middle East. It was included on a map drawn by Roman geographer Ptolemy, and visited by merchants and explorers Marco Polo from Italy, Ibn Battuta from Morocco, Ibn al- ujawir, and heng e from China.

I walk between 144 towering round stone columns laid out in 13 neat rows, the remnants of the Grand Mosque, where desert Bedouin and windswept sailors would meet to pray before exchanging their frankincense and going out to sea or trekking back through the desert for days on end. I can almost imagine their ghosts praying around me.

Just behind the mosque are layers of bricks from the former sultan’s palace one of the most important buildings in Oman at the time while crumbling stone walls lie to the north and west of the area, used to protect the town from seasonal floods. This is where people from across the known world

PREVIOUS PAGES FROM THE LEFT: Frankincense tree growing in a desert near Salalah; Frankincense burning in a market.

LEFT: A creek at Al-Baleed Archaeological Park. THIS PAGE FROM THE LEFT: Ruins at Al-Baleed Archaeological Park; The landscape near Salalah.

converged. All brought together by the power of a simple resin from a tree.

It’s easy to imagine locals haggling over the best price, goats and camels wandering the streets, and the sweet smell of frankincense combining with salty sea air and burning wood, while the sultan watches from on high.

I head next to the archaeological ruins of Sumhuran at hor Rawr , an hour or so from Salalah. This ancient port, dating back to the first century A , was the final stopping off

point for frankincense trade caravans before it was loaded onto dhows and shipped to India, Africa, urope and even China. I walk through mounds of crumbling stones once houses and warehouses and past the remains of a defensive wall to a small museum. Inside, a stone tableau refers to the city of Sumhuran, home to the port of oscha the largest frankincense port in Ancient Rome’s vast trading empire. It was also one of the wealthiest trading posts in the world, guarded by fleets of Roman warships. Afterwards, I stand in the creeping midday shadow in front of the museum and look out to sea. The khareef (monsoon) season is just starting, and thick mists are gradually rolling in from the water, swallowing up the rocky coastline in a grey soup. I think I can smell a sweet ambery scent rolling in on the mist the cloying fragrance synonymous with frankincense but perhaps it’s so overtaken my brain that my olfactory senses are playing tricks on me.

I retrace my steps back through the ruins, searching for what could have been the mythical palace of the Queen of Sheba. Local legend says that she collected frankincense resin each year which she locked in a heavily guarded room until she had enough to fill a boat, which was then sent to King Solomon in Jerusalem as a token of her love (or lust) for him. I don’t find any sign of her palace, just

I RETRACE MY STEPS BACK THROUGH THE RUINS, SEARCHING F OR THE MYTHICAL PALACE OF THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.

a few dusty pathways and a ruined wall or two, but I like to think it was there, somewhere.

I ask my driver to take me to the historic source of the frankincense industry. I had seen the end products in the markets and its final stops before being exported around the ancient world, but I wanted to retrace the start of the route of the endless camel caravans that, for centuries, transported the resin from the fields of trees to the ports.

We follow a sandy road out of Salalah along the rankincense Trail proper, supposedly built on top of one of those ancient trading routes, into a vast area of emptiness known, quite appropriately, as the Empty Quarter. No settlements, no shops, not many people, and most crucially for those ancient traders no fresh water. After an hour of driving, questioning whether we were actually lost, a sparse misshapen tree appears, then a few minutes later a cluster, then minutes later a field of crooked trees. The air fills with that ambery sweetness that I thought I had smelled

CLOCKWISE FROM THE TOP LEFT: Driving through sand dunes in the Empty Quarter; The sand dunes of the Empty Quarter; Frankincense resin; Frankincense tree in Salalah; A bowl of frankincense resin for sale.

I THINK OF THE QUEEN OF SHEBA IN HER PALACE, COUNTING HER PEARLS OF FRANKINCENSE LIKE WE MIGHT COUNT MONEY.

at the port, and even my driver, Ahmed, has a gleaming smile on his face. ‘This is the smell of my childhood. When it was harvesting season, this is the scent that filled my home,’ he tells me.

espite the once-priceless nature of frankincense, I wouldn’t say the Boswellia trees from which the resin comes from are particularly attractive to look at. Each one is

sparsely vegetated, distorted and bent. I guess there’s a moral in those trees: it’s not what something looks like that counts, it’s what it can do that is most important.

e are just outside of Thumrait, which has been the most important frankincense growing region in the world for millennia. It is Alkashem, the end of the tree tapping season; local men, heads bound in patterned masar turbans, were cutting the outer bark of the trees. A thick and milky off-white substance slowly emerged from the wounds; a fully grown tree can produce over 8lbs (4kg) of resin twice a year one tree that I see, I am told, has been oozing for over a week. I watch as a man chips away at the tears of resin, flicking them into a bucket, one after the other. Each time, a faint lemony waft hits my nose.

With the wave of a hand, I follow the man and his bucket along a dusty track towards a small cave in the side of a jagged cliff. Inside, row after row of buckets overflow with small jewels of white resin. ost are the Al- awjri variety the whiter and clearer version of frankincense. I think of the Queen of Sheba in her palace, counting her pearls of frankincense like we might count money; no doubt she would have thought she had hit the jackpot had she seen this cave.

Before heading out to Oman, I had read some of explorer ertram Thomas’s writing Thomas, by all accounts an interesting character, was the first westerner to cross the mpty uarter. Like his counterparts Lawrence of Arabia and explorer ilfred Thesiger, he wrote of how he had tried, and failed, to find a settlement known as the ‘Atlantis of the Sands’. I ask one of the workers at the frankincense farm if they know of the city but am met with a few shakes of the head. My driver, however, knew what I

LEFT: Evening light on the dunes of the Empty Quarter.

THIS PAGE FROM LEFT: A Boswellia (frankincense) tree; Resin seeping out of a frankincense tree

was talking about. ‘You mean the lost city of Ubar. A city that might not have existed, but if it did, it revolved around the frankincense trade. I’ll take you.’

Apparently, Bedouin storytellers had told Thomas tales of the residents of Ubar being so wicked that God destroyed the city and erased all trace from existence. The edouin also recounted to Thomas how they thought they had also seen castles of the fabled king d on their journeys through the desert, mentioned in the uran as ‘the City of the Pillars’ only to find they were actually mirages. Countless explorers had searched for the city, to no avail. y hopes of finding this mythical city at this point are, it is fair to say, quite low.

Nevertheless, we get back onto that endless, sandy, bumpy road that connects almost nowhere to absolutely nowhere for miles and drive deeper into the Empty Quarter. We follow the road towards the modern settlement of Shisr from the south, veering off the paved highway slightly along adi Ghudun, a deep and dusty valley that cuts through towering cliffs, to a pile of grey stones that, if I squint hard enough, look a bit like a section of a tower. If this was once the grand city of Ubar, not much of it is left.

We pull up alongside the ruins and I get out of the car to explore. Below the stones is a deep collapsed well filled with gravel and bricks. Perhaps this was a stopping-off point for camels carrying frankincense from the farms in Thumrait, through the desert, and north to the editerranean. There is nothing else for as far as the eye can see, other than sand, a few mountains in the far distance, and the odd thorny bush here and there. This must have been a settlement. Gazing out across the desert, I can easily imagine a line of camels carrying hessian sacks filled with frankincense, setting off for days of walking to a port filled with boats waiting to ship the resin around the world.

It may not have been the lost city of Ubar, with its bustling streets and vast wealth, built for and by frankincense merchants. But, standing there, at the end of the rankincense Trail, it seems to me that it could be that maybe I have discovered what Thomas had failed to. Travelling out here had been a journey, not just through the sometimes seemingly endless deserts of Oman, but along a trail that provided a glimpse of a long-gone, ancient world and the liquid gold that once helped sustain it.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

The nearest airport to the Frankincense Trail and the Empty Quarter is Salalah Airport. Most travellers will need to travel via Muscat or airports in the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan or India.

BEST TIME TO GO

From June to September, when the monsoons hit the region, transforming the arid deserts into forests of trees, plants and wildlife; temperatures are also cooler than during the drier months.

CURRENCY Omani riyal

TIME ZONE GMT +4

FOOD

Seafood is available in abundance in Salalah, with locally caught kingfish, snapper and cuttlefish appearing on many menus. Ma’ajeen (camel meat dried and then fried in fat) is a popular local dish.

WHERE TO STAY

Salalah is the only major settlement in Dhofar with hotels. Al Baleed Resort Salalah by Anantara is close to the archaeological park.

HOW TO DO IT

A 4x4 is required to visit the remote desert ruins and frankincense farms in the Empty Quarter. You can either rent a car at the airport or, preferably, hire a local driver and/or guide to add colour and context to what you see and make sure you don’t get lost. Hotels can give recommendations on local tour companies to use.

MUST-PACK ITEM

A scarf to cover your head and face, especially if visiting the desert in the wind and midday sun.

WHY GO

To experience a side of Oman that is often overlooked but which has shaped the country and its culture over thousands of years.

PAGE

THE TOP: Jeeps driving through the desert near Shisr; Ruins near Shisr.

Photo Credits: Dreamstime.

and

The waters off the southern African coast are known for being home to a number of shark hotspots – and so, planning a road trip across South Africa and Mozambique, I added a number of them to my list of must-visit places. Having heard divers elsewhere rave about shark-packed dives here, my expectations were high. And they were more than met: on almost every dive, I was treated to a diverse array of countless shark species that I hadn’t been fortunate enough to see elsewhere. A highlight was photographing smooth hammerhead, mako, pyjama and broadnose sevengill sharks in the murky, dark, frigid waters off the coast of Cape Town.

Up close personal

PHOTO ESSAY BY LEWIS BURNETT

personal

roadnose sevengill sharks in the cold, murky waters near Cape Town.

LEFT BOTTOM:

Schooling fish and soft corals in Ponta do uro.

LEFT TOP: A clownfish hides in a stinging fortress in Sodwana ay.

RIGHT BOTTOM:

My dive buddy getting close to the action on the Aliwal Shoal.

RIGHT TOP: Shoals of fish on a reef in Mozambi ue.

THIS PAGE FROM THE TOP:

RIGHT:

e were fortunate to spend over an hour with this smooth hammerhead.

PREVIOUS PAGES: An ceanic blacktip shark surrounded by a school of suckerfish.

FOLLOWING PAGES:

A huge school of mixed snapper species.

ne of the highlights of my dives was encountering these huge schools of bluestripe snapper; A close-up of the eye of one of the resident red snappers of Sodwana ay in wa ulu-Natal.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

There are international airports at Cape Town, Johannesburg and Durban.

BEST TIME TO GO

Winter is generally considered the best time for diving in southern Africa, and although temperatures are substantially colder, wind and water visibility is usually a lot better than at other times. To ramp up the excitement, time your visit to coincide with the annual sardine run (May to July), particularly in KwaZulu-Natal.

CURRENCY Rand

TIME ZONE GMT+2

FOOD

Be sure to try bunny chow, a delicious Indian/African curry served in a hollowed out loaf of bread. Both meat and vegetarian options are usually available.

WHERE TO STAY

Most of the dive centres offer accommodation, but you’ll also find a good range of airbnb properties available.

HOW TO DO IT

Cheap car hire in the major cities makes exploring easy. It’s easy to cross from South Africa into Mozambique at the Kosi Bay border post – just make sure you have a letter from your car-hire company allowing it. Use a local dive operator such as Shark Explorers (Cape Town), Blue Ocean Dive Resort (Aliwal Shoals), Pisces Divers (Sodwana Bay) and Gozo Azul (Ponta do Ouro) to get out to the best shark-spotting sites.

MUST-PACK ITEM

Don’t forget a GoPro –the sharks get up close!

WHY GO

The chance to swim with shark species that are hard or rare elsewhere in the world, including the broadnose sevengill, make it completely worthwhile.

ISLAND OF ABUNDANCE

Off the northwest coast of Africa, the Portuguese archipelago of Madeira offers a vibrant gastronomical culture that reflects its subtropical climate and diverse landscapes. Colourful boats set off each morning to catch mackerel and octopus off the rugged coastline, while the farming traditions of the lush inland mountains provide succulent chicken and beef. To retain their natural flavour, meat and fish are often grilled on a barbecue and accompanied by fresh local vegetables and sweet-potato bread, bolo do caco, all seasoned by olive oil and garlic. Served alongside a strong local punch, it’s the perfect companion for exploring this rugged island.

PHOTO ESSAY BY GIULIA VERDINELLI

ABOVE: Preparing mackerel for

ABOVE:

Polvo à lagareiro (roasted octopus with potatoes) is a well-loved local dish.

grilling.

LEFT: Children practising their surfing at Praia do Porto do Seixal.

PREVIOUS PAGE LEFT TO RIGHT:

A natural swimming pool near Porto Moniz; Gutting fish at Câmara de Lobos.

THIS PAGE:

Mixing and serving poncha, a traditional Madeiran alcoholic punch. It is made with aguardente de cana (a rum-like spirit made from sugar-cane juice), honey, sugar and fresh fruit juice, with lemon, orange and passion fruit being the most common flavours. The drink is mixed with a wooden muddler called a caralhinho (little cock) and served in small glasses..

OPPOSITE: View of Paul do Mar beach, on Madeira’s west coast, from Miradouro do Massapez.

LEFT: Inland, fresh fish is replaced by meat; at Cozinha a Lenha they serve a wide variety of traditional dishes.

ABOVE FROM THE TOP: Espedatas (grilled skewers of cubed beef rubbed with garlic and salt) are traditionally skewered on bay wood, which infuses the meat with natural aromas; Local fruit and vegetables sold from a truck.

NEXT PAGE, CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT TO RIGHT: Frango grelhado (whole chicken grilled on a wood barbecue) being cooked in Funchal; Garlic displayed in a restaurant window in Funchal – it’s a popular ingredient of Portuguese cuisine; The rooftop bar of NEXT Hotel in Funchal; Fresh bolo do caco; Colourful boats in Câmara de Lobos.

LAST PAGE: View of the island’s northeastern coast from Miradouro do Cortado.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

Cristiano Ronaldo Madeira International Airport is around a 20-minute drive from Funchal, the island’s capital, and is well served by international flights.

BEST TIME TO GO

The island’s subtropical climate ensures it’s warm throughout the year. May to August provides the most sunshine, while rainstorms are more frequent in November.

CURRENCY Euro

TIME ZONE GMT +1

FOOD

Don’t miss espetadas –skewered beef grilled over charcoal – especially when accompanied by bolo do caco (sweet-potato bread) and a glass of sweet poncha

WHERE TO STAY

Funchal is a great base from which to explore the island and offers a great variety of accommodation across all budgets.

HOW TO DO IT

The best way to explore the island is by renting a car or scooter. Day tours are also available from Funchal.

MUST-PACK ITEM

A raincoat and warm layers. Even in the summer months you can get caught in sudden, heavy but short showers and experience cold winds, particularly inland and at higher altitudes.

WHY GO

For the wild, rugged, lush and diverse landscapes that can be easily savoured from a myriad of easily accessible miradouros (viewpoints). A road trip – with frequent stops to sample the local food and soak up the farranging views – makes for an unforgettable experience.

Cambodia R i s i n g

SIMON URWIN TRAVELS FROM THE CULTURAL HUB OF BATTAMBANG TO SEN MONORAM IN THE SO-CALLED ‘WILD EAST’ TO DISCOVER HOW THE TROPICAL KINGDOM IS OVERCOMING THE HORRORS OF ITS PAST AND BUILDING A BRIGHTER, MORE SUSTAINABLE FUTURE.

Aman with a 5ft tongue and an even longer phallus stands naked in the garden, exposed as an adulterer. Next to him, an eviscerated woman looms over a cooking pot filled with sinners who beg for mercy while they are slowly boiled to death. It’s an extraordinary vision of a Buddhist hell, a fever dream of modern sculpture within the grounds of the Wat Pnuw monastery, and just one example of the rich artistic and cultural heritage for which Battambang is widely known.

Languid and jungly, Cambodia’s secondlargest city lies in the midst of vast paddy fields some miles from the Thai border. The country’s rice bowl, it was the fertile land that first allowed the arts to flourish here centuries ago: a proliferation of food ensured free time for other pursuits beyond farming, including creative expression; wealth from the rice trade then funded that creativity and soon all

the country’s greatest artists, musicians and singers hailed from Battambang. That was until an estimated 90% were murdered by the Khmer Rouge, Pol Pot’s brutal, genocidal dictatorship that ruled from 1975 to 1979.

‘The artists were armed with open minds and popular voices that could hold truth to power,’ Osman Khawaja tells me. ‘That’s why the Khmer Rouge wanted them dead. We’re trying to do the opposite: we want to bring the arts back to life.’

Osman is executive director of Phare Ponle Selpak (‘Brightness of the Arts’), an NGO that provides free arts education for disadvantaged children. Founded by Cambodian refugees returning home after the fall of the Khmer Rouge, it began as a school for drawing and painting, before music, dance, theatre and circus skills were added to the curriculum. Now, hundreds of students pass through the doors each year and hone their performance skills in Phare’s animal-free circus, a leading Battambang tourist attraction.

‘It’s as far from Siegfried and Roy as you can get,’ says Osman as he shows me around the big top during a lighting and sound check. ‘Cambodian circus has ancient roots; there are even 12th-century carvings on the Bayon Temple at Angkor Wat that show acrobatics, tightrope work and balancing acts.’

Osman tells me that the circus serves a wider purpose beyond unlocking the potential of its students – to get Cambodians to reengage with the arts. ‘It’s a habit that was lost for decades because the Khmer Rouge not only killed the artists, they destroyed paintings, statues and many cultural treasures too,’ he says. ‘We hope that by bringing audiences to the circus, and reminding them of their heritage, it’s another important step towards Battambang becoming a leading cultural hub once more.’

Other venues have emerged here in recent years as part of the city’s artistic renaissance, including Romcheik 5 Artspace (Cambodia’s first modern art museum), and Kep Kao Sol, a gallery showcasing the work of Loeum Lorn, a former Phare student. Loeum is best known for his photographs of melting ice: abstract self-portraits inspired by the cold

OPENING SPREAD: Angkor Wat at sunrise.

THIS PAGE: Wat Piphetthearam, Battambang,

RIGHT FROM THE TOP: The historic centre of Battambang; Traditional shophouse architecture in Battambang.

he felt living as a child refugee on the ThaiCambodian border. ‘The close-up photographs reveal cracks and impurities trapped inside, which represent my inner trauma,’ he says. ‘As the ice melts, they are released, just like the way trauma can be healed through the artistic process. That’s why art is so important for both the creator and the viewer. It helps us process the past and move beyond it.’

As the heat fades in the late afternoon, I set off for Siem Reap, rolling past villages of stilted houses and roadside stalls selling fans of bananas and pyramids of aromatic durians. Three hours later I pull up by a small lake on the city’s outskirts where Bunyong Roeurn, a former monk, is waiting for me. Bunyong leads the way to his simple homestay, the proceeds from which go towards running an on-site English and computer school. ‘Cambodia is a poor country, so it helps give the community a leg-up in life,’ he says. ‘It’s just a drop in the ocean, but a single drop can create many ripples of good karma.’

The following morning, a wedding band wakes us before dawn – drowning out the crowing cockerels with their equally tuneless melodies played on a drum, violin and cloy (bamboo flute), their songs said to bring fertility and harmony to the day’s happy couple. We set out early, taking the opposite route to most tourists who start the day with sunrise at Angkor Wat; instead, we take an overgrown

THIS PAGE FROM THE TOP: Loeum Lorn in front of two of his artworks in the Tep Khao Sol gallery; Street in Siem Reap.

RIGHT:

Early morning temple sweeping, Ta Prohm.

THE SILVERY ROOTS OF SPUNG TREES GRIPPING, CRIPPLING AND CRACKING.

path to Ta Prohm, the most atmospheric of the ancient temples, where our only company is a strutting peacock – a symbol of prosperity in Khmer culture.

After it was completed in the late 12th century, some 80,000 people regularly maintained or attended the Buddhist temple, but now Ta Prohm lies quiet, slowly suffocating under a mantle of moss, the silvery roots of spung trees gripping, crippling and cracking its stonework. ‘The spungs are like Shiva [preserver and destroyer of the universe]. In some ways, they hold the buildings together, in others, they tear them apart,’ says Bunyong. ‘Ultimately, they remind us that life is impermanent; the only thing that’s permanent is change.’

Close to Ta Prohm, we head to a small, family-run restaurant to eat kuy teav, the traditional Cambodian breakfast soup consisting of rice noodles and beansprouts under layers of crispy garlic, beef and fresh herbs. ‘The most important flavour comes from the pig’s backbone I put in the broth,’ says Lok Socheat, the cook, who brings steaming bowls to the table that we share with a couple of saffron-robed monks.

Cheatok Lon and Phen Tep tell me they have travelled six miles to get here from their monastery in Siem Reap, having risen at 4am for two hours of meditation. ‘We come because the food is so good,’ says Phen,

squeezing a dash of lime into the bowl, a final touch before slurping can commence. ‘Also, because it’s close to one of the most sacred, spiritual places in Cambodia: Angkor Wat.’ Construction of the Khmer Empire’s 400-acre temple complex, considered the very heart and soul of Cambodia, began in 1122. Six thousand elephants were used to carry stone from a quarry 30 miles away (more stone than used in the largest Egyptian pyramid), before an estimated half-million people toiled for 32 years to create the figurative heaven on

THIS PAGE CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: A monk at Angkor Wat; Temple carving, Angkor Wat; Cheatok Lon (left) and Phen Tap (right) eating kuy teav.

RIGHT: Angkor Wat.

earth, consisting of five immense towers with beehive-like crowns surrounded by an 2,620ftlong series of bas-reliefs and a vast moat.

The largest religious monument in the world, Angkor Wat has transformed nearby Siem Reap from backwater to boom town, where millions of tourists now descend to revel in the restaurants and bars that sprawl around garish Pub Street in the heart of downtown.

One business putting that huge influx of visitors to positive use is Little Red Fox Espresso, which co-founder David Armstrong runs with ethical entrepreneurship in mind.

‘Many Cambodians get caught in the cycle of debt repayment by opening a coffee cart,’ he tells me. ‘But here our team go through a proper apprenticeship: learning management skills, costing, how to buy local and the true value of a dollar, so that one day they can go on to open a small, successful business of their own. That’s not just good for them, but for the whole Cambodian economy.’

The coffee shop is a member of Collective for Good: a select group of tourist-related businesses committed to environmental, social and economic good practices. ‘It’s a tough process to get accepted, to make sure the greenwashing companies don’t get in,’ David says. ‘A simple QR code then allows travellers to see who the members are and make more informed decisions about who they spend their money with. It means you can make a difference to the lives of many people, not just a few.’

Located across the Siem Reap River is another member of the collective: the stylish Treeline Urban Resort where, under general manager Joni Aker, the hotel has taken a

THE TOP: Statue outside Treeline Urban Resort, Siem Reap; Treeline Urban Resort.

OPPOSITE PAGE: Preah Nimith Waterfall, on the Mekong River.

forensic look at its environmental footprint and now goes to great lengths to mitigate its impact by planting trees, composting food waste and heating water with solar energy.

The hotel also supports a wide variety of community initiatives: they employ a local curator to oversee a grants-and-mentorship programme that promotes Cambodian artists (whose work is then exhibited for sale at the hotel), while the interior design includes wide use of handicrafts from a Tonlé Sap Lake project that turns water hyacinths into basketware to both control the invasive species and give new earning opportunities to the women of the lake’s floating villages. Key though, has been eliminating singleuse plastic, a challenging undertaking in a country where tourism produces 4.6 million plastic bottles every month with little recycling.

‘We wanted to go way beyond removing water bottles from the rooms,’ says Joni.

‘We wanted to lose plastic from the supply chain altogether.’ Joni and the Treeline team undertook training from Plastic Free Southeast Asia (who support businesses in their efforts

to become leaders in sustainable tourism), a process that also involved educating and incentivising the hotel’s providers of fresh food and clean laundry.

‘We’re not 100% perfect, of course,’ says Joni. ‘But we’re getting there. The ambition is to inspire people to think more – not only about where they stay, but how they visit and where they eat – whether it’s supporting the local food cart or more fine-dining options like Lum Orng [Siem Reap’s first farm-to-table restaurant] and Chamrey Tree.’ (In the latter, chef Ung Thun finds recipes that were lost during the Khmer Rouge’s rule and reinvents them.) ‘Then, hopefully, we have a chance of leaving the world in a better shape than how we found it.’

I leave Siem Reap on a hot, humid morning, and drive east across a landscape of rainforests and waterfalls that simmers in the insistent heat, the skies darkening then detonating with thunder and rainstorms before turning to bright blue again, a cycle that continues for over 300 miles.

THIS PAGE:

Mud-bathing elephant. OPPOSITE PAGE: Guide Cham Rong.

After nine hours at the wheel, I arrive in Sen Monoram, home to the animist Bunong, the largest of the country’s ethnic minorities. Traditionally, the Bunong have used elephants for logging and transportation; now they are actively involved in their rehabilitation: letting the retired elephants wander free, while fees from visitors (who pay to walk with them) go towards supporting the local community and helping keep the animals safe from poachers.

I meet up with my guide Cham Rong, a dandyish cowboy figure who wears a feather in his hat and smokes banana leaf roll-ups. In the company of two mahouts and their pachyderm charges Princess and Krahprom, we wander off together into the Lean Trok forest, which buzzes, hisses and whirs with its orchestra of insects.

We stroll for hours, following the elephants who amble at will, taking their dust baths, yanking and uprooting banana palms, sugar canes and forest foliage to get their ‘125kg a day’. It’s a meditative process: us watching them watching us, pondering what is passing through their minds. ‘When they are lonely or sick, they cry,’ says Cham. ‘They can be naughty too. They play hide-and-seek among the mango trees. They are complex and emotional, just like human beings.’

While Princess and Krahprom bathe with their mahouts in the Otey River, Cham and I eat fresh fish with a traditional stew of banana flower, aubergine, pumpkin and sao mao leaf, ingeniously cooked over charcoals inside a bamboo stick. On the side, we enjoyed a nip of ‘jar wine’: a rice-based hooch infused with appetising starfruit, honeycomb and medicinal herbs, and the less palatable porcupine stomach, larvae and chicken blood.

‘Jar wine is believed to get rid of bad spirits,’ says Cham as we clink glasses and slug back the firewater. ‘It brings good fortune, health and happiness too.’ They seem like fitting final words as my journey comes to an end, across a country I’ve witnessed going to great lengths to overcome its own bad spirits and secure a brighter, happier future.

NEED TO KNOW GETTING THERE

Siem Reap is served by flights from the capital, Phnom Penh, as well as Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur and Singapore.

BEST TIME TO GO

Hot and humid year-round, November to May sees temperatures dip and the lowest rainfall but also the biggest crowds at Angkor Wat. The start and end of the wet season (May–June and Oct–Nov) bring clear skies between downpours and relatively crowd-free temples.

CURRENCY

Cambodian riel

TIME ZONE GMT +7

FOOD

Rice is the staple, traditionally eaten with most meals. Aromatic amok (fish steamed in a banana leaf) is considered the national dish, its mild curry flavours come from its kroeung (paste) made with lemongrass, turmeric, galangal and lime leaves.

WHERE TO STAY

Treeline Urban Resort (treelinehotels.com) for a stylish, sustainable stay in the heart of Siem Reap. Homestay.com is a great resource for more economical options, overnighting with Cambodian families.

HOW TO DO IT

A trip to Cambodia is easy to organise independently. Bunyong Roeurn can be contacted on bunyong_ rouen@yahoo.com and +855 77 370 818.

MUST-PACK ITEM

A durable, reusable water bottle to make the most of Cambodia’s refill stations (see refilltheworld.com).

WHY GO

Beyond the extraordinary monuments of the Khmer Empire, it’s their modernday descendants, the Cambodians themselves, that leave a lasting impression.

Photo Credits: All photos by Simon Urwin with the exception of p136: Dreamstime.

OUR CONTRIBUTORS

ROSS CLARKE

Ross is a travel, food and wine writer for publications such as The Times, BBC Travel and National Geographic Traveller. When he’s not hopping between his beloved Canary slands, he can be found exploring his homeland of Wales. A former editor for British Airways and Mandarin Oriental, Ross is also a lecturer in ournalism at Cardi University. He publishes a regular Substack newsletter all about Welsh food and culture called The Welsh Kitchen.

LYNN GAIL

Lynn is an Australian-based travel writer and photographer with a focus on culturally diverse sub ects. Some of her many career highlights include camping under stars in Australia’s native homelands with the olngu People sharing Hari Raya on the Cocos Keeling slands and dancing with ancestors’ bones during a Turning of the Bones Ceremony in Madagascar. Lynn also runs culturally immersive small-group photography tours.

JULIAN ELLIOTT

Julian has been a professional landscape and travel photographer for over ten years. Having written for a number of British UK photography maga ines, he started selling his work through world-renowned Getty mages. To date, his work has sold in over 0 countries and he has travelled in nearly 0 countries, capturing the world around him.

SIMON RICHMOND

Simon is a writer and photographer based in olkestone, UK. or over 5 years he’s been writing travel guidebooks and other non-fiction titles for ma or publishers including Lonely Planet, Rough Guides, K Eyewitness and Time Out. Simon savours the pleasures of slow travel and the oys of getting to know places at a leisurely pace. His Kent guidebook in Bradt’s Slow Travel series was published in 0 .

IMOGEN LEPERE

Author of The Ethical Traveller (Smith Street Books) and currently A TO’s oung Travel Writer of the year, mogen Lepere is particularly interested in how tourism can be a tool for sustainable development in remote communities. She’s currently based between London and Mexico.

MARK PARREN TAYLOR

Mark Parren Taylor is a London-based travel and food photographer. He loves exploring everywhere and anywhere from Alaska to agreb but if he has the time and the funds his first choice is to head east, to Korea, Japan, China, Thailand and then to southeast Asia. Korea is always at the top of his must-visit list not ust for its golden, almost tangible, light but also for its buzz, charm and unlimited surprises.

JOE WORTHINGTON

Joe has been a travel writer for well over a decade, working with the likes of BBC Travel, National Geographic Traveller, Marriott and odor’s. He specialises in the Middle East and considers himself an expert on the Gulf. He has a Ph in Gulf politics and history and is a regional expert and content curator for ma or hotel brands. Joe travels to the ends of the earth to avoid crowds by any means necessary.

LEWIS BURNETT

A wildlife photographer based out of Western Australia, Lewis believes that our society has lost the vital connection with the natural world that allows us to not ust survive on this cra y planet, but thrive. He hopes that by capturing the endless beauty that nature has to o er he will inspire people to live a more simple, happy and environmentally conscious life.

GIULIA VERDINELLI

Giulia is a food and travel photographer, a photography tutor and travel entrepreneur. As a storyteller, her mission is to inspire the curious traveller to find wonder in the mundane. Her photography has been featured in publications such as National Geographic Traveller Food, The Sunday Times and Whetstone, and she has worked with commercial brands like Pernod Ricard and Tesco.

SIMON URWIN

Simon is a London-based travel writer and photographer whose work has been recognised by the likes of Nikon, the Association of Photographers, National Geographic Traveller and Taylor Wessing. He recently won Best Travel Photo eature of the ear at the British Guild of Travel Writers’ Awards for his road trip feature across America’s eep South for ssue

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