September 2018 by Travel + Leisure Southeast Asia

Plus: Sumatra Phnom Penh the marquesas Peru

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September

c o nt e nt s

features 60

Into the Dreamscape Uluru is the heart of Australia, where Ron Gluckman finds a visceral spirit that permeates the vast desert.

Keepers of the Jungle In Sumatra, endangered orangutans cling to existence. By Saki Knafo. Photographed by Stefan Ruiz

78 78 60 c l o c k w i s e F R O M t o p LE F T: j u l i e n g i r a r d o t; r o n g l u c k m a n ; f e l i x o d e l l ; w i l l i a m a b r a n o w i c z

96 88

The Middle of Nowhere The Marquesas are the antithesis of a clichéd tropical beach paradise, writes Noah Hunt. Photographed by Julien Girardot

Love, Life, Latvia In this fast-evolving nation, Boris Fishman returns to a culture that is stronger than ever. Photographed by Felix Odell

Crossing Jordan A look at ancient ruins and cultural treasures beyond Petra. By Zander Abranowicz. Photographed by William Abranowicz

ON THE COVER

High above Longitude 131 looking towards Uluru. Photograph by Tourism NT.

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

c o nt e nt s In Every Issue

T+L Digital 10 Contributors 12 The Conversation 14 Editor’s Note 16 Deals 56 Wish You Were Here 106

last-minute seat at Singapore’s Formula 1; unwind in Vietnam; visit dynamic Abu Dhabi; a new food hub in Auckland; and more.

25 Phnom Penh Rises A new

luxury hotel signals that real change is finally afoot in the Cambodian capital.

30 Shifting Sandakan Just a

30-minute drive from the famed primates of Sepilok, Sabah’s second city is rich with both heritage and cuisine.

34 Head for the Hills A place of

creativity, cultural history and Art Deco architecture, Bandung offers far more than just a highland retreat from Jakarta.

38 In Search of Rainbows

Traversing the dry soils of southern Madagascar to a remote river camp is a lesson in human resilience and belief in Mother Nature.

44 Call of the Wild Deep in the

Peruvian rain forest, “citizen science” travelers can collaborate with scientists in the field—all while enjoying the comforts of a stylish lodge.

Upgrade 51 Seeing the Bigger Picture This month we’ve compiled a diverse manual on traveling responsibly, which includes ideas for beyondthe-guidebook itineraries that are ethically sound and culturally sensitive, tips from actor Adrian Grenier on lightening your travel footprint, and more.

48 Cuba, on the Fly On an island

where time has stood still for half a century, the saltwater flats of southern Cuba have been left largely untouched—perfect for a world-class catch.

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

fr o m l e f t: C o u r t e s y o f r o s e w o o d p h n o m p e n h ; k i t y e n g c h a n ; c o u r t e s y o f a m a n o i ; r i c k o f e r n a n d o

21 Reasons to Travel Now Grab a

t+ L di g ita l

Lookout

this Austr alian Isle is A Foodie’s Par adise Just off the Tasmanian coast, Bruny Island is where gourmands in the know slurp down pristine oysters and gorge on rare raw cheese.

Exploring the Legends of Langk awi This Malaysian island is more appealing than ever: come for the new luxury hotels, stay for the lessons in its prehistoric natural wonders.

Why Tr avelers Are Flocking to Fiji Dive into the underwater treasures of this South Pacific archipelago from new private-island resorts and eco-friendly boutiques.

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fr o m l e f t: a n d r e w w i l s o n / c o u r t e s y t o u r i s m a u s t r a l i a ; s c o t t a . w o o d wa r d ; c o u r t e s y o f k o k o m o p r i vat e i s l a n d f i j i

this month on tr avel andleisureasia.com

T+L World’s Best Awards; a luxury resort brand opens its first city hotel in Singapore; discovering an unspoiled Thai island; our ongoing hit-list of reasons to travel right now; the latest travel deals; and more.

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W W W. F O U R S E A S O N S . C O M / K UA L A L U M P U R

c o ntrib u t o r s

Ricko Fernando

Jonathan Evans

“Head for the Hills” Page 34 — “I was born and raised in Bandung. After studying in Singapore and Beijing, I came back in late 2014 and started a clothing line, a coffee shop, and most recently a small film lab with analog photography supplies. I regularly shoot music fests and travel stories, but this is only my second assignment in Bandung. I should really explore my hometown more! I highly recommend roof bar Moxy Sky. It is spacious, and the view is beautiful with lots of natural light. The best people I met for this story were at Upstairs Bar. I talked to the staff for quite a while and they offered me free cocktails.” Instagram: @rickoriko.

“Head for the Hills” Page 34 — “While watching a local rock band at a bar in Bandung, I met Kasih, who works in a hotel but is a guitarist and singer. She is also a Batak—an ethnicity from north Sumatra, where I’d been just a few months before. Kasih got up on stage, joined the band to belt out some indie anthems, and was so good she stayed there for the rest of the set. It’s that kind of place. Head outside the city to the hill town Ciwidey: Kawah Putih (White Crater) is a sulphurous volcanic lake that ranks among the most obscure and desolate yet strangely beautiful places I’ve ever visited.” Instagram: @adventures_in_journeylism.

Kit Yeng Chan

Ron Gluckman

“Shifting Sandakan” Page 30 — “So many Chinese moved to Sandakan to do business that locals call it ‘Little Hong Kong.’ It was from here that the Brits exported oil, tobacco, timber, coffee and sago back to Europe and the rest of the empire. We had visited several times, but this trip was for the first Sandakan Food Festival. Go now to have a taste of retro Malaysia and see the buildings from the 1970s, and the prewar wooden houses that are incredibly well conserved, and many still inhabited by the original families. Kampung Ikat is a local village famous for its dried fish—which I always bring home, as my parents love it.” Instagram: @kitchan_travelphotos.

“Into the Dreamscape” Page 60 — “I still remember the contract my photographer had to sign when I first visited Uluru in 1993. We helicoptered over it, but were only allowed to photograph some angles. I’d never heard of such a thing! This is a great facet of travel: making you ponder the why. How sacred is this to the local people? We didn’t understand, but as soon as we saw Uluru, we felt the power surge from the rock and its surroundings. This time, I was impressed by how things have progressed in terms of sustainability and awareness of the impact of tourism. It was great to hear all the stories and legends emphasized by guides.” Instagram: @rongluckman.

P h o to gr a p h er

W r i t er

fr o m t o p : c o u r t e s y o f R i c k o F e r n a n d o ; c o u r t e s y o fJ o n at h a n E va n s ; c o u r t e s y o f K i t Y e n g C h a n ; c o u r t e s y o f r o n g l u c k m a n

P h o to gr a p h er

TOUCH M O R E WITH THE AIRLINE THAT FLIES TO MORE COUNTRIES THAN ANY OTHER

I T A LY

th e c o n v e r s ati o n

Marriott, Hyatt, Four Seasons, The Peninsula, Royal Caribbean, Starbucks and all of Taiwan… 2018 has been the year of big names banning the plastic straw. While it may seem small, it’s pushed the wider travel industry to reduce their impact further, pledging to lessen water usage, support communities and more. But it’s not just up to corporations—here’s a reminder on how we, as travelers, can minimize our footprints.

Be a pest

Keep the cleaner out

Ask tour operators how their trips support the community. Ask for your hotel’s policy on recycling, waste water and use of renewable energy sources. Ask airlines how they source responsible catering options. They may not have a good answer yet, but the question itself may prompt action.

Hew close to home

BYO

Stick to the path

We’re not saying don’t travel, but when you do, choose native guides, buy souvenirs from the people who make them and eat at locally owned restaurants.

#TLASIA

Despite hanging towels and opting for no sheet changes, we often find crisp new linen in our hotel rooms anyway. The “do not disturb” sign keeps cleaners at bay, and reduces electricity.

When exploring natural reserves, avoid going off track so you don’t harm any insects or native flora and fauna.

Pack your water bottle, reusable cups and bags. Airports have fountains to refill bottles before flights, and stashing cups and bags will help you refuse singleuse plastics when you’re out.

We love these pictures of T+L readers communing with nature.

Swimming with the locals in Gili Trawangan. By @jackobhere.

The rugged wilderness of Komodo National Park. By @studiokh.

Bathtime in Kanchanaburi, Thailand. By @notesfromkarolina.

Playing around with Queenstown’s remarkable reflections. By @weiklsteff.

Share an Instagram photo by using the #TLAsia hashtag, and it may be featured in an upcoming issue. Follow @travelandleisureasia

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s e p t e m b e r 2 0 1 8 / t r av e l a n d l e i s u r e a s i a . c o m

From My Travels My own idea of adventure usually involves two wheels of the 25-millimeter variety, which is how I found myself cycling around southern France and visiting friends at the same time. We’re always curious about where you’ve been and where it is you want to go next, doubly so this month with our annual Reader Survey, which you’ll find on page 6. By filling out the survey, you have a chance to win a three-night stay at the beachfront St. Regis Bali Resort, where I recall having lunch one beautiful day and, by the time coffee arrived, not wanting to leave.

fr o m l e f t: Irfa n S a m a r t d e e ; c h r i s t o p h e r k u c way

etting away from it all is often both a goal and a curse when it comes to travel. Around Asia, the great outdoors always beckons yet this region is also the most densely populated in the world—don’t necessarily assume that only means China or India; also keep in mind Male in the Maldives or that former pocket of Portugal in southern China known as Macau. This month, we focus on the wide-open spaces where density is virtually an unknown concept. Where better to start that quest than in an archipelago nation that is further from any continent than any other: the Marquesas (“The Middle of Nowhere,” page 78). The isolated nature of these islands, not to mention their volcanic terrain draped in greenery and surrounded by deep-blue seas, are why any conversation about them quickly includes the word “paradisiacal.” More sere, but just as focused on those long horizons we love, is our visit to Australia’s iconic Uluru and the red emptiness surrounding it (“Into the Dreamscape,” page 60). As both articles mention, these sea- and landscapes are evocative to each of us in different ways, but in all cases remove us from the ordinary and everyday, which is what adventure travel is all about. Besides the vast expanses of the Pacific and of the Outback, we also explore Sumatra in search of some of its endangered residents, the Cuban salt flats and the ancient Kingdom of Jordan. Though these places aren’t yet ripe for the latest catchphrase— “overtourism”—it is a growing concern in any number of locales around Asia. So, in our Upgrade section (page 51) this month, we offer some tips on how we can all travel more responsibly. These are points well worth considering wherever your journeys take you.

editor-in-chief art director Deput y editor Features editor senior DEsigner

Christopher Kucway Wannapha Nawayon Jeninne Lee-St. John Eloise Basuki Chotika Sopitarchasak

Regul ar contributors / photogr aphers Cedric Arnold, Kit Yeng Chan, Marco Ferrarese, Duncan Forgan, Lauryn Ishak, Mark Lean, Grace Ma, Morgan Ommer, Aaron Joel Santos, Stephanie Zubiri chairman president publishing director publishER digital media manager TRAFFIC MANAGER / deputy DIGITAL media manager sales director busines s de velopment manager regional manager chief financial officer production manager circul ation as sistant

J.S. Uberoi Egasith Chotpakditrakul Rasina Uberoi-Bajaj Robert Fernhout Pichayanee Kitsanayothin Varin Kongmeng Joey Kukielka Leigha Proctor Paul Adams Gaurav Kumar Kanda Thanakornwongskul Yupadee Saebea

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Nathan Lump Meredith Long

meredith partnerships, LICENSING & syndication (syndication@meredith.com) Busines s affairs director director, licensing oper ations editorial director e xecutive director, content management

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Steve Lacy Tom Harty Alan Murray Nathan Lump Brad Elders, Lauren Ezrol Klein

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2:17PM The moment you saw the ocean as you had always dreamed. Beaches sparkle a shade of white youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve never seen before. The Indian Ocean glimmers turquoise in the tropical sun. And a breeze blows gently through the mangrove and jungle. Relax into the natural elegance of Fairmont Maldives Sirru Fen Fushi, where our rustic chic villas surround you in comfort, connect you to nature and inspire a love affair with the Maldives. Gateway to your perfect Maldives moment. fairmont.com

REASONS TRAVEL NOW september 2018

T+L’s monthly selection of trip-worthy places, experiences and events.

no.

It’s never too late to start your engines in Singapore.

C l i v e M as o n / Sta ff / g e t t y i m ag es

So you’re a fan of speed but were slow off the mark to get tickets to this month’s Formula 1 in Singapore? Not to worry, as there are now more ways than ever to enter the Marina Bay Night Circuit come September 14–16. One of the newest options is a single-day ticket for the Bay Grandstand—S$208 each on the Sunday—while anyone looking for a more cutting-edge feel can opt for Twenty3, a 3,000-square-meter facility on the final corner of the street circuit. The venue includes both al-fresco and air-conditioned dining spaces with free-flow drinks, along with indoor and outdoor viewing galleries for the race itself. The hitch is that a Sunday-only pass with this view will set you back S$3,855. If you’re still ticketless in the days before the race, any remaining passes are available at gates 1, 3, 5, 7 and 8, as well as at various locations around town, including Swissotel The Stamford and Raffles City Convention Centre. singaporegp.sg.

Get the best Grand Prix view from the new Twenty3 compound.

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

r e a s o n s t o tr av e l n o w

no.

A peace retreat in a far-flung Vietnam resort aims to help guests keep calm and carry on.

Tucked away on remote Vinh Hy Bay, immersed in untouched national parkland and starring a 1,800-square-meter lakeside spa, the Amanoi resort is in prime position for a soul revival. But to truly master the art of serenity now, the upcoming Journey to Peace retreat teaches guests to calm the mind, let go of attachments, change perceptions and learn acceptance through breath work, meditation, chanting and mantra practices. Guests will be guided by experienced monk Geshe Yongdong, who joined Nangzhig Bönpo Monastery—the largest Bön

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

monastery in Tibet—at the age of seven, and has gone to extreme lengths to hone his discipline, including tantric rituals and a “dark retreat” that required sitting in darkness for 49 days. It’ll be a cushier road to Zen for Amanoi guests, though, with plush accommodations in a choice of pavilions, villas or residences, and access to the cliff-side infinity pool, private beach club and hammam and banya spas. amanoi.com; Journey to Peace retreat runs November 1–7, 2018, and includes full board accommodation and airport transfers; prices available on request.

c o u rt esy o f a m a n o i

The Amanoi is surrounded by national park, with dramatic views of the coast.

no.

S pac es Im ag es / g e t t y i m ag es

You don’t have to journey far from Abu Dhabi’s dynamic city center for a serene desert escape.

The inner courtyard of Abu Dhabi’s Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque.

Abu Dhabi is becoming a destination in its own right, thanks to its energetic art scene, classic cuisine and proximity to nature. The new Jumeirah Al Wathba (jumeirah.com; doubles from US$299), located a 30-minute drive south, keeps the best of the city within easy reach while offering peace and seclusion with its desert setting. Opening this month, the complex has 103 luxurious rooms and villas, plus courtyards, pools, bars and restaurants, all built in traditional Arabian style. Venturing into town, start with an art tour at the Jean Nouvel–designed Louvre Abu Dhabi (louvreabudhabi.ae), the latest high-profile addition to this burgeoning cultural capital. Don’t miss a tour of the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque (szgmc.gov.ae), a white-marble behemoth that houses the largest handknotted carpet in the world. Indie gallery Warehouse 421 (warehouse421.ae) has rotating exhibitions and craft workshops, and swing by the Etihad Modern Art Gallery (etihadmodernart.com), a space for U.A.E.-based artists. Kayaking tours of the city’s inner channel islands at Mangrove National Park (ead.ae) show off the biodiversity of the ecosystem; you’ll spot herons, flamingos and even the occasional dolphin. Or stroll along the date-palm-lined paths of the city’s new central green space, Umm Al Emarat Park (ummalemaratpark.ae). After a day of exploring, you’ll find that traditional Emirati foods—like lgeimat, the syrupy cardamom doughnuts—at Al Mrzab (almrzab.com; mains from US$12) hit the spot. So do the options at JordanianLebanese cafeteria Bait el Khetyar (fb.com/b.elkhetyar; mains from US$3). Follow the regulars’ lead and order the moutabbel, a smoky eggplant dip, with freshly made pita bread. — Hannah Walhout

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

r e a s o n s t o tr av e l n o w

no.

This new laneway dining precinct serves up a taste of Auckland’s best. Asia has led the trend in fancy food courts—thank you, Singapore, for Essen @ The Pinnacle, District 20, and the region-wide Food Republic—but now an elevated multi-dining space in New Zealand’s largest city is becoming the next spot for high-end casual fare. Based on an intimate laneway concept, Queen’s Rise has set up shop on Auckland’s iconic façade of 125 Queen Street with a collection of 11 of the city’s best restaurateurs. From the owners of popular new wave yum cha spot Culprit, try contemporary “fast food” and natural wine at Lowbrow (mains from NZ$25); Auckland hospitality maverick Alex Izik’s new venue Ottoman Mezze Lounge (small plates from NZ$11) serves traditional Turkish dishes to share; while upscale eatery Grace (mains NZ$16–$25) plates New Zealand produce with craft beer and cocktails. With poke bowls, deli-style sandwiches, dim sum and good coffee also on offer, Queen’s Rise is blowing the cobwebs out of Auckland’s fine dining scene. queensrise.co.nz.

Clockwise from top:

no.

The Singapore Zoo is lighting up the night. To celebrate its 45th anniversary, the Singapore Zoo will open its gates a little longer this season, as the wildlife sanctuary transforms into Rainforest Lumina, a multisensory lucent wonderland, after dark. Visitors can wander along an illuminated kilometer-long trail that includes stops at the white tiger enclosure for a sing-a-long show, an audio-visual installation at the Great Rift Valley of Ethiopia replica, an interactive light experience for kids, and more. rainforestlumina.wrs.com.sg; open 7:30 p.m.–12 a.m. until December 2018; tickets S$22 for adults, S$16 for children.

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

to p : c o u rt esy o f q u e e n ’ s r i s e ( 4 ) . b ot to m : c o u rt esy o f s i n ga p o r e Zo o

Lowbrow at Queen’s Rise; a Turkish spread at Ottoman Mezze Lounge; Grace’s tuna poke; Lowbrow pairs fast food with good wine.

s p o tli g ht

Phnom Penh Rises

courtesy of rosewood phnom penh

As a new luxury hotel opens, change looks afoot in the Cambodian capital, a city where quality of life shifts in small but persistent steps. By Jeninne Lee-St. John

See the sights in style via Rosewood's electric tuk tuks.

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

s p o tli g ht

CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT: Phnom

my friend ashley lived in Phnom Penh’s Raffles Hotel Le Royal for two months 10 years ago, in the historic wing in the front of the building, which opened in 1929. His room had a clawfoot tub. He has fond memories of their tom yum soup, their French restaurant with classic silverservice dining and their old-school gin-and-tonics. Rosewood Phnom Penh—which is contemporary and crisp, while artistically and pragmatically incorporating local design elements, like wall panels that resemble louvered shutters—opened this year, and, from our highfloor room, we literally look down on the Raffles, as well as parkland Wat Phnom to its west and the fortified U.S. Embassy to its east. “I’ve never seen Phnom Penh from this perspective,” Ashley marvels. “It looks so clean.” I met Ashley the day he moved to Saigon, where I was living, from Phnom Penh. He arrived with tales of dodgy nightclubs and a general sense of lawlessness. That same year, 2008, the New York Times noted the arrival of KFC and other foreign money in Cambodia, advising: “This may be your last chance to see Phnom Penh before this former village...once called the Pearl of Asia, turns into a booming metropolis. The city seems to shimmer with the sense that its low-slung buildings, ambling cows and smiling monks are not long for this world.” Ah, that ground-level rural-urbanity is still very much the world of Phnom Penh. The city has seen significant expansion, both in population (it’s now at 2 million) and cash flow (thanks to Chinese and Japanese donations, the city bus system has gone from one line to 10 since 2016, with free rides for factory workers), but it hasn’t exploded in any way close to the way Saigon has. The country’s economic growth hovers at 6 to 7 percent year on year. That’s not to say things aren’t moving forward. “We have peace and stability. You can sit here in a nice coffee shop not worrying about war,” Nov Povleakhana, 27, a digital reporter for Voice of America Khmer, says when we meet her in a nice coffee shop, a roastery, in fact, that is the flagship of a hugely popular home-grown chain in a

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

leafy neighborhood where villas go for US$1 million. “People are spending more money.” Subtle shifts over the past decade span innovative native non-profits like Tiny Toones, which uses breakdancing to keep kids off drugs and in school, and community-minded entrepreneurs like the expats behind Cerevisia brewery, who teach locals to make craft beer and have created a social space that pulls from across the cultural and economic spectrum. Yet things like these have been incremental quality-oflife changes, nothing to signal that Phnom Penh was making a play for tourism prime time. So, when I heard a Rosewood was opening in the city center, I was intrigued. There have long been a Sofitel, an InterContinental and, of course, grande dame Raffles Hotel Le Royal, but besides those retreats, this has been at best a boutique town. On my first visit in 2009, the riverside roofbar of the Foreign Correspondents’ Club was the coolest spot in town. What glittering future did one of the world’s more elite hotel brands see in Phnom Penh? It sounded like the city was skipping a few steps. How were they going straight from KFC to, like, Noma? I brought Ashley with me to find out.

courtesy of rose wood phnom penh (6)

Penh’s newest personification of top-notch service, at Rosewood; tuna Nicoise in the hotel’s Brasserie Louis; Rosewood’s main lobby/lounge is aptly named The Living Room.

CLOCKWISE FROM left: Rosewood’s leatherfilled Whisky Library; views of the river from a Mekong suite in the hotel; the capital’s famed Wat Phnom lights up the night.

It’s no easy task trying to look Rosewood-refined while slurping a bowl of soothing kuy teav, the Cambodian version of beef pho, while making small talk with the hotel lounge singer, who has pulled up a chair for some tea. The clear afternoon sky stretches out over his shoulder and I put down my spoon, drawn up from the table to check out the near-vertigo inducing view. We’re right on top of the Central Market, its four canary axes looking like a giant compass. The low-rise city sprawls out southward and I can make out the peaked roofs of the Royal Palace. Following the river, I can see the not-yet-finished, planned suburb Diamond Island. Once a

fishing village, it has its own diversions and offices and municipal services, from a golf course to a city hall to luxury apartments going for US$3,500 per square meter. Developers are upgrading the moniker to “Elite Town.” It occurs to me that this ridiculous title could aptly describe the property I’m standing in, if only Rosewood weren’t such a decidedly, endearingly unpretentious brand. Phnom Penh is full-on, there are no enclaves of complete serenity. Rosewood is at last such an enclave, all subtle sophistication. Witness the cut-crystal glassware you’ll love to cradle, the branded leather cocktail kits in the boutique, the Giza-sized pyramid of house-made chocolates. Located in the top 14 floors of the country’s tallest building, the Vattanac Capital Tower, it’s ideal for business travelers. Comfy but stylish open-plan spaces invite you to treat the hotel like your living room. With its French brasserie, Japanese izakaya, multiple bars, spa, gym and 20-meter pool, it’s an oasis from the chaos and grit that you really needn’t leave. But it also welcomes the city in, not least via the many floor-to-ceiling windows. It showcases local art: on my visit its gallery featured a show by Nok Cheanick on the terror of the Khmer Rouge. It has a local brewery make its craft beer. It has a fleet of sleek, sustainable, navy, electric tuk tuks. Pull up to the National Museum in one and the envy emanating from other tourists is palpable. The cit y’s tourist attr actions haven’t changed much

over the years. But the social life certainly has. For the local rising middle class, it started with coffee. Brown Coffee and Bakery (browncoffee.com.kh), where we meet Nov, was founded in 2009 by a Cambodian who had tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

s p o tli g ht

studied in Australia. It has 19 outlets, a baking facility and a training center that prioritizes underprivileged students from the provinces. “Before when you had a photo of yourself with Starbucks, people would say, ‘Wow, you are so well off,’ because you had to leave the country to get it,” Nov says. “Now we have choices here.” Nov says going out at all is a generational change, and her friends usually choose foreign dining. “As long as it’s from outside, people will try it. They want new things.” One such spot is Oskar (oskar-bistro.com), a recent outpost of the popular French bistro in Bangkok. Also on

from top: Craft-cocktail pioneer Le Boutier; Sora skybar, atop Rosewood, is the hottest drink in town; the Art Deco ceiling of the city’s Central Market.

my must list is Le Boutier (leboutier.com), which heralded the arrival of the craft-cocktails culture in the city. Small and glass-fronted, it has a varied clientele and a blissfully syrup-free cocktails menu. The manager, Visith, offers sample-size drinks, allowing me to winnow my choices down to La Vie en Ros Sereysothea. Made of pineappleinfused vodka, Campari, grapefruit, jasmine tea tincture and bubbly, it’s named after a beloved Cambodian singer. The next night we hit up BattBong (fb.com/ battbongbar), a leather-filled, den-like speakeasy behind a fake antique Coca-Cola machine in an alley. The musicians are playing chill acoustic, and the bartenders let me shake a few things behind the bar. We also go to Est (estbar.com), a bright wine bar that looks 1980s Wall Street but is friendly, well-stocked, and open til 2 a.m. Ashley remembers a “wine bar” in Phnom Penh circa 2008 where the owner had to leave to buy prosecco when he ordered it. The apex of Rosewood perfectly encapsulates the new nightlife scene. Delicious Japanese restaurant Iza has open-kitchen areas for ramen and udon, sushi, and its centerpiece robata and irori charcoal grill, plus a sake list to drown in. Whisky Library has a wall of bottle lockers for club members and a stash of Cohibas. And then there’s the bauble-ceilinged inside of Sora, which spills out onto a spectacular roof bar that feels like a beach club and is westward-facing for perfect sunsets, making it the hottest drink in town. From here we’re looking down several stories over an old helicopter pad. “The city’s never seen Phnom Penh from this perspective,” says Hanny Gunawan, the Rosewood’s director of communications, as we watch the sky go magenta, martinis in hand. As Nov told me, “living here now is exciting.” No, it’s not your last chance to see the capital’s persistent rural-urbanity. But being able to look down on a helipad? Surely that’s a sign of a city on the rise.

fr o m t o p : m o r g a n o mm e r ; c o u r t e s y o f r o s e w o o d p h n o m p e n h ( 2 )

rosewood.com; doubles from US$240.

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

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di s c o v e ry

Shifting Sandakan Just a 30-minute drive from the famed orangutans of Sepilok, Sabah’s second city offers a rich heritage and diverse menus. Marco Ferrarese finds that British North Borneo’s former capital is worth the wildlife diversion. photogr aphs by Kit Yeng Chan

The sweeping view overlooking Sandakan Bay.

Hunched over the Bowl, I slurp

long strands of bouncy yellow noodles from a steaming seafood soup. A bunch of perfectly cooked mussels and giant prawns float in my “spring noodles,” a traditional Sandakan soup made fragrant with coriander, salty broth and a splash of soy sauce. It’s so good I cast all eating etiquette aside— not that my immediate surroundings require any. Located in a shack at the end of a nondescript jetty, this “restaurant” has no name—the local indigenous groups call this area Kampung Pukat in Malay, while the local Cantonese refer to it as Yu Shun Gai, or “fishing boat street,” after the rocking dinghies moored in the sea just meters from us. “I told you, we have so much more than orangutans,” says Anton Ngui,

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from across the table. Anton is my guide during this informal tour of his hometown of Sandakan, Sabah’s second largest city after Kota Kinabalu. Say “Sandakan” and most associate the name with the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Center, the main tourist draw to this remote corner of Borneo. Even Anton has capitalized on the attraction by opening an eco-friendly resort there, Paganakan Dii, which translates to “family” in the local Dusun language. Although Sandakan is just 27 kilometers east of Sepilok, I am not here to meet the apes, but see to another side to the region. Sandakan’s traditional fare is a rich blend of Malay, Chinese, Indonesian and Filipino cultures, and is not easily found elsewhere in Malaysia.

Its cuisine, accompanied with the town’s multi-faceted colonial and deeply moving war histories, make a worthy attraction beyond the jungle.

i l l u s t r at i o n b y c h o t i k a s o p i ta r c h a s a k

The sunbaked, often dismissed

port town that is Sandakan today is a hard place to love at first sight. Prewar, the former capital of British North Borneo was once backed by a hill forested with tall coconut trees. The palms sheltered a neat grid of wide boulevards filled with beautiful wooden homes that faced what, even now, remains North Borneo’s most striking bay. It all changed in World War II, when Sandakan was occupied by the Japanese and bombed to its foundations. The town was gradually rebuilt, but redesigned with port practicalities over aesthetics in mind. From the 1600s, the strategic bay was fought over by the Spanish and the Sultans of Sulu, from the nearby southern Philippines, before North Borneo was sold in 1877 to an AustroHungarian consul, Gustav von Overbeck, who took the title

Maharaja of Sabah and Rajah of Gaya and Sandakan. He passed the place on to a British colonial merchant, and, by 1879, Elopura—Sandakan’s original name—started prospering under the British North Borneo Company. The British encouraged Hong Kong’s Chinese migrants to set up businesses, and, soon enough, the first capital of North Borneo rose as a thriving entrepôt of cultures. A pre-war look at Sandakan can be seen at the reconstructed wooden home of Agnes Keith—an Americanborn writer who penned three books about her family’s life and plight in Sandakan during the Japanese occupation—which stands proud on a hill along Jalan Istana. Down a steep staircase is the City Museum, with a stunning collection of rare black-and-white photographs that testify to Sandakan’s beauty before the war. The ground floor is dedicated to the incredible work of early Borneo and Africa explorers Martin and Osa Johnson. These two Kansas adventurers and filmmakers

Go Wild

Of course, Sandakan’s nearby natural attractions can’t be missed—here are three sanctuaries to visit that protect Borneo’s endangered species. Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre

Come close to Borneo’s most iconic ape at this world-class conservation center, where orangutans young and old swing down the thicket like curious children in furry orange jumpsuits. sabahtourism.com/destination/ sepilok-orangutanrehabilitation-centre; adult tickets RM30. Bornean Sun Bear Conservation Center

See the world’s smallest bear in a life-sized forested enclosure opposite the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Center. The center is home to about 40 rescued sun bears, which are hunted for their paws and bladder—highly priced items on the menus of Traditional Chinese Medicine practitioners. bsbcc.org.my; adult tickets RM31.80. Labuk Bay Proboscis Monkey Sanctuary

from lef t: A baby proboscis monkey clings to its mother—the infant ape will grow its

long nose as it gets older; Sandakan’s famous UFO tarts at hip retro café San Da Gen.

Despite being perennially crowded and a tad overpriced, this former palm-oil estate houses long-nosed monkeys that are used to being observed and will come up very close to visitors. proboscis.cc; adult tickets RM60.

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from lef t: Fusion dining, modern cocktails and ocean views at Balin Roofgarden on top of Nak Hotel; the Labuk

Bay Proboscis Monkey Sanctuary is also home to Bornean hornbills; retro interiors at San Da Gen café.

made Sandakan their base as they flew their amphibious plane over the island in 1935, documenting North Borneo’s lost indigenous tribes and incredible wildlife for the American silver screen. This collection of powerful photographs makes me feel nostalgic for the flora, fauna and communities of the past, a slice of Borneo that is long gone. Most of the city’s historical remains can be taken in on a selfguided two-hour heritage walk curated by local historian Lai King Hang. I also make sure to visit the Sandakan Memorial Park at Mile 8, which commemorates the tragic history of the “Death Marches” during the Japanese occupation in World War II. In 1945, thousands of Allied Prisoners of War were forced to walk from here to Ranau, a small town near the lofty Mount Kinabalu, more than 200 kilometers away. Out of the 2,400 prisoners, only six survived. The park honors the martyrs, and reflects on a time steeped in violence and destruction

of life. This reminder for peace is just as applicable to Sabah’s nearby primates, who, despite their refuge in Sepilok, still suffer at the hand of man across the region. Just like its storied past,

Sandakan’s cuisine is also diverse. “Sandakan’s strength has always been its mix of native Sabahans, and Chinese and Hong Kong migrants, who, like my father, settled here between the 1950s and 1970s,” says Calvin Yin, who returned from his second home in Perth to help his aging parents run Heng Loong, a longstanding Chinese-style seafood restaurant. “The local cuisine mixes Chinese-influenced recipes with local jungle ingredients [tropical plants, ferns and wild meats] and, of course, plenty of fresh seafood,” Calvin says. Last year, both Calvin and Anton, along with a group of other local restaurateurs, hoteliers and food producers, launched the inaugural Sandakan Food Festival (fb.com/sandakanfoodfest), putting

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the town’s distinct culinary heritage on the map. The group packed a sampler of Sandakan’s best food and chefs into Mile 4, the town’s gritty yet popular market and street food area. With fun eating and cooking competitions held in the afternoons, and cooking demonstrations and a pop-up food market taking place in the evenings, visitors got a taste of the plethora of local bites on offer. I try the best at Sim Sim Seafood Restaurant H90, whose chef Yong Yin Kit won first prize at the seafood cooking competition at last year’s festival. H90 is tucked at the back of Pier 8 in Sim Sim, Sandakan’s rickety yet charming fishing village on stilts. While it seems like nothing more than a simple wooden terrace over the sea, my plate of sizzling yellow mee comes garnished with fresh tiger prawns the size of my hands; they are juicy, scrumptious and unforgettable. Like Calvin, Anton left his sleepy

hometown to chase big-city dreams

and a white-collar career in Singapore. But in 2006, a phone call from home entrusted him with a new life mission: revive Nak Hotel, Sandakan’s first, opened by his grandfather in 1966, but left neglected after his passing. “I started applying the lessons learnt living abroad, and tried something new to spice things up,” Anton says. Next door, he and his Johor-born wife, Linn, opened San Da Gen in August 2016—the town’s first retrochic café. It conjures and celebrates Sandakan’s old-world atmosphere with crackling vinyls of 1960s pop yeh-yeh—the Malaysian version of 60s-era, Beatles-inspired rock and roll—local coffee brews and traditional pastries, such as the UFO tarts: vanilla butter biscuits topped with egg custard and meringue. It originated in 1955, when Fu Ah On, a migrant baker from Hainan Island in southern China, over-baked his tarts. To his clients’ delight, they actually tasted better, and the UFO tart went on to become one of Sandakan’s iconic delicacies. Oddly enough, another of the town’s icons might just be its

battered skyline. Anton and Linn transformed the Nak Hotel rooftop terrace into Balin Roofgarden, the town’s first Western-style bistro, which serves a modern menu of thin-crust pizzas, fresh salads and international cocktails. Sunset from here is just as glorious as the one I had experienced in Sandakan’s more famous sibling port town, Kota Kinabalu. As I lounge with a sundowner in hand, groups of locals share their conversations and contemporary dishes all around me. From our vantage point, it’s easy to consider Sandakan’s modest view actually beautiful, bathed as it is in such an ethereal glow. The sun slowly sinks beyond the horizon, casting a shade of metallic black all over the slow waves that crumple the sea. While my first glimpse of Sandakan saw a dusty port town razed by war, by scratching the surface I’ve found that time has actually made Sandakan’s story richer, that diversity has made it stronger, and ideas from a new generation are making it as relevant as ever.

THE details Hotels

Nak Hotel

Sandakan’s first hotel has received a new coating of Old China–inspired chic that makes its central rooms a comfortable option. nakhotel. com; doubles from RM158 including breakfast. Paganakan Dii Set

on a narrow ridge overlooking Sepilok’s rain forest, the 14 rooms here blend classy comforts with the simplicity of nature, and are ideal for families. paganakandii.com;

doubles from RM162 including breakfast and free shuttles to Sepilok Orangutan Center. Restaurants

Balin Roofgarden

Besides the glorious sunsets, this eclectic Western-fusion bistro draws a crowd for its many events. balinsandakan.com; mains from RM40. Heng Loong This

traditional Chinese restaurant at Mile 4 is the place to go for scrumptious seafood. GF, Blok 4, Jln. Utara, Bandar

Pasaraya; 60-8/ 921-1023; mains from RM30.

Activities

Sandakan Heritage Trail Follow the

into local food history at this hip bistro that serves Sandakan’s classic pastries and other pan-Malaysian staples. fb.com/ tastesandagen; mains from RM20.

signposts around town to take in more than 100 years of the city's history, including Masjid Jamik, Agnes Keith’s House and St. Michael’s church. sabahtourism.com; 60-19/882-8288.

Sim Sim Seafood Restaurant H90

Sandakan Memorial Park

San Da Gen Dive

This basic seaside terrace on stilts is a real institution, serving the freshest seafood in town. Jalan Buli; 60-12/816-3633; mains from RM40.

from top: Sim Sim Seafood Restaurant

H90’s prawn mee; St. Michael’s church, founded in 1888.

Located on the former prison camp site, this park honors the tragic “Death Marches” of World War II. sabahtourism.com; 60-89/275-400.

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Head for the Hills

A place of creativity, cultural history and Art Deco architecture, Bandung offers far more than just a highland retreat for Jakartans. As bigger and better transport options open up the city to a wider audience, Jonathan Evans finds a burgeoning urban hub. photogr aphs by Ricko Fernando A spr awling mountain town just 2½ hours

from Jakarta, Bandung has long drawn natureseekers for its lush rainforests, accessible volcanoes and natural hot springs. But as the city opens up to an international playing field—last month it co-hosted part of the 2018 Asian Games’ football tournament— Bandung has quietly developed a more metropolitan charm, with both local and international businesses injecting fresh doses of contemporary cool to its streets. There are also more ways for visitors to connect with the city: Kertajati International Airport, to the city’s east, opened in May, promising to ease the strain on both Bandung’s and Jakarta’s oversubscribed transport hubs; work will soon begin on Bandung Metro Kapsul, a light-rail project using low-cost,

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energy-efficient technology to combat the city’s grinding traffic; and a high-speed train connecting Bandung to Jakarta is slated to launch in 2020. Here’s why Indonesia’s third largest city deserves more of our attention.

Stay

The sharpest new digs in town, in more ways than one, the 119-room U Janevalla (uhotelsresorts.com; doubles from Rp1,240,000) comes encased in a series of angular glass boxes with abundant greenery on the exterior—a nod to the assimilation of natural and manmade in this “City of Flowers.” The interiors are no less edgy, combining warm tones with slick configurations of wood, metal and brickwork, and a rhomboid motif throughout. Standing almost opposite each other in the hip district of Dago, Courtyard by Marriott (marriott.com; doubles from Rp750,000) and Four Points by Sheraton (fourpointsbandung.com; doubles from Rp1,220,000) offer classy comfort. Courtyard’s sumptuous spa is startlingly large for a medium-sized hotel, and staff-drawn designs decorate its dining area. Four Points’ gleaming monochrome lobby and top-floor bar make a bolder, W-esque luxury statement.

Eat & Drink

For a truly original brunch experience, head to the light-filled One Eighty Coffee (instagram. com/oneeightycoffee; mains from Rp26,000), with its huge circular coffee bar, shallow crescent-shaped pool for diners to cool their feet and upper-story performance area. The menu really impresses, too, with its thoughtful take on Euro and Indo classics. Go minimal at

Subkulture Coffee/Panorasuna (instagram. com/subkulture.coffee; drinks from Rp15,000), an ovoid cabin with just four tables, vinyl for sale, turntables, recherché brews and DJs spinning EDM on Thursdays. Braga Art Café (instagram.com/bragaartcafe; mains from Rp20,000) is a notably upscale option on an otherwise grungy pub street, combining ethnic carvings with playful versions of local staples—try the beef rendang or satay burgers. For Western delicacies, drop by Buttercup Bakery & Café (buttercup.co.id; mains from Rp48,000), an opulent bistro situated adjacent to Four Points’ entrance. In the evening, join the throng at Upstairs Bar (23 Jln. Trunojoyo; drinks from Rp120,000), a speakeasy-style hideout with fine cocktails, DJs and a pool table. Further north, a glassfloored observation deck and splashes of neon enliven Sky Bar, the swish rooftop boozer at Moxy Bandung (moxy-hotels.marriott.com; doubles from Rp426,550; drinks from Rp40,000), the first Asian outlet for Marriott’s hip boutique brand that opened last year.

Bandung’s boulevards are lined with clean pavements and ornate lampposts, making this a pedestrian-friendly city by any standards (let alone Indonesian). Saunter down Jalan Asia Afrika, past the curvy splendor of historic Hotel Bidakara Grand Savoy Homann (savoyhomannhotel.com; doubles from Rp2,300,000)—where

from top:

Portraits of former mayors at Taman Sejarah; U Janevalla’s sleek interiors; crafted cocktails at Upstairs Bar.

OPPOSITE, clockwise from top left: Bandung

Creative Hub; One Eighty Coffee’s lush setting; indie menswear brand Nordhen Basic.

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Shop

clockwise from top left: The

sharp façades of U Janevalla; artistic murals don the dimly lit walls of Upstairs Bar; mountain views from the rooftop Sky Bar at Moxy Bandung.

Dutch colonizers first established Bandung in 1810 as a staging post for West Java travelers— to find the largest concentration of Bandung’s Art Deco and colonial architecture. At the historical park, Taman Sejarah (53 Jln. Aceh), giant murals and smart landscaping wrap attractively around pools and canals using water from the Cikapayang River. For a culture trip, the major new draw is Bandung Creative Hub (bandungcreativehub.com), an avant-garde structure that echoes the imagination on display inside, with galleries, events, workshops, cozy communal spaces and a design archive that showcases the city’s artistic pre-eminence.

Bandung stakes an impressive claim as having Indonesia’s most idiosyncratic, local designer– led retail scene. The city’s factory outlets, known for both high quality and affordable prices, cluster around grungy Cihampelas Walk and upmarket Jalan Martadinata, in bargain-filled warehouses such as The Secret Factory Outlet (47 Jln. Martadinata) and Heritage (heritagefactoryoutlet.com). For local labels, sample the once-underground, Bandung-originating phenomenon known as “distro” (short for “distribution outlet,” the term references a subculture aesthetic made popular in the 90s), which birthed major players Nordhen Basic (nordhenbasic.com), Screamous (screamous.com), UNKL347 (unkl347.com) and Ouval Research (schofficial. com)—chi-chi stores with striking displays and serious hipster cred.

Getting there

While the new Kertajati International Airport is larger, Husein Sastranegara International Airport (bandungairport.com), which services Garuda, SilkAir and a brace of budget carriers, is closer to Bandung city center—however, the high-speed Jakarta–Bandung fast train expected to begin in 2020 is also planned to eventually extend to Kertajati. Currently, the least-expensive and most scenic route to Bandung is the three-hour Argo Parahyangan train ride from Jakarta’s Stasiun Gambir (tiket.com; one-way “Eksekutif” ticket Rp100,000). Around town, local taxis are plentiful, but tend to overcharge for short rides. Use Grab (grab.com/id) taxis instead, or visit moovitapp. com for personalized itineraries that link up with local buses (there’s free public Wi-Fi across the city).

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

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e s s ay

In Search of Rainbows When a long drought broke over the forests of southern Madagascar, Alexandra Fuller was transported back to her childhood in Africa—and given an inspiring glimpse of human resilience.

The r ains came late to Madagascar this hot

November. It’s the same story the world over, of course: weather interrupted, disturbed. “Usually, it’s rained by now,” said the driver who met me at the airport in Antananarivo, the capital, as if apologizing for the heaviness in the air. I understood: there’s no longing like the longing for rain. I was raised by farmers in southern Africa; I know that in this part of the world everything, everything, depends on a few centimeters of topsoil, and the fact of rain. More than 70 percent of Madagascar’s people,

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

the Malagasy, are involved in agriculture, and nearly all of those are subsistence farmers: rice mostly, but also corn, sweet potatoes, cassava. In other words, almost everyone you meet is land-stitched, wholly oriented toward the cloudless southern skies. They live in the seasons, never in spite of them. I was on my way to the Mandrare River Camp, a bush camp in the south of the island, to see Madagascar’s iconic, imperiled spiny and lowland forests—and the lemurs that inhabit them. After a night in Antananarivo, I took a twin-engine over dry, peach-colored riverbeds and crumpled, forest-stripped mountains, the plane’s shadow a gray speck drifting across it all. This was remoteness on a cinematic scale. Tiny villages of just a few wooden buildings surrounded by breadths of country, vast beyond description. An empty, apparently unpeopled terrain where footpaths ran like veins throughout the broken wilderness and sharp little silhouettes of cattle emerged against the ribbed red soil. >> Illustr ations by Caroline Tomlinson

A NEW CHAPTER AWAITS AT THE DATAI LANGKAWI THE R EBIRTH OF A LEGEND One of this year's most anticipated reopenings, The Datai Langkawi is nestled in a 10-million-year-old rainforest, backed by the pristine Datai Bay. Located on the island of Langkawi, it is home to a wealth of wildlife.

The rebirth unveils a new look with crafted experiences, connection with nature through bespoke facilities and services that promotes its own Malaysian hospitality. Indulge in the luxury to be your natural self at one of Malaysia's iconic resorts, this September.

T +60 4 9500 500, E reservations@dataihotels.com, www.thedatai.com

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Man’s imprint on the land looked so hardwon, yet at the same time so breathtakingly fragile. Madagascar was one of the last large landmasses on the planet to become inhabited by people. It’s possible to trace humanity’s 1,200-year-old footprint on the island almost as it happened: first came Austronesians from the Sunda Islands in outrigger canoes, then Bantu, Arab and European immigrants. The island’s large mammals were the first to go, all of them hunted to extinction by the 18th century, and the forests cleared. Now less than 3 percent of the country’s forest remains, and its reserves of indigenous wildlife are pooled into tiny pockets, like the one I was going to see. Aside from the rain, and the associated threat of climate change, the island’s major preoccupation was corruption: that other man-made disaster, a metaphorical drought that, in this part of the world, never fully breaks. Many Malagasy accuse their president, Hery Rajaonarimampianina, of graft and cronyism. Madagascar is still rich in natural resources, they argue, so why are most of its people so unbelievably poor?

Antandroy elders blamed the drought on someone breaking fady, or taboos. There had been mischief somewhere, they said Coincidentally, across the Mozambique Channel in southern Africa, Zimbabwe’s longtime dictator, Robert Mugabe, had just fired his vice president. There would soon be trouble in that house, it was clear. We fly into other people’s storms all the time, and their droughts. We might arrive at the dawn of an unbidden political moment, or at the close of one. And we carry with us our own histories, our own internal storms. The eyes of the traveler are never fresh, but rather refreshed. We see new places through old lenses, and are renewed by the seeing. That’s the disturbing, rewarding work of travel: to

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return to the common denominator that connects us all, which is to say the soil that nourishes us, and the freedom to be nourished by that soil. The Mandr are River Camp reminded me of a classic East African safari camp: the assiduous staff who were nearly telepathic in their care; the spring leaves of the tamarind trees that provided a kingdom of shade in that rainless heat; the clouds of butterflies, orange, violet and white. I’d seen something like them before, but not for decades. In the early morning, and again in the evening, we walked—a photographer, a local guide and myself—in the nearby forests, one protected by the community, the other two by their sanctity. The two sacred forests are the sites of tombs, the domain of ancestors. In neither could the lemurs be disturbed, and there were further strictures: no pointing, no littering, no taking anything away. The Antandroy—the name translates to “people of the thornbush”—are a southern community 600,000 strong that watches over and protects these areas. They are notoriously irrepressible, having resisted French subjection in colonial times. It wasn’t difficult to imagine why. Anyone who can make it in this eerily beautiful place and emerge so soulfully attached to the land would have to see its spiny forests as a refuge and not, as the French did, as a barrier. At night, I sat out on the edge of the riverbank and watched the stars of the Southern Hemisphere trace across a sky so dark it seemed drenched in blackness. On the opposite bank, some 50 meters away, I could count the village fires. At dawn, children brought containers to collect water at shallow wells in the riverbed, around which the last of the dry season’s sweet potatoes were being harvested in little garden plots. Every day, clouds gathered like battleships to the west, but by dawn the next morning, the skies were again cloudless. Antandroy elders blamed the drought on someone breaking fady, or taboos. There had been mischief somewhere, they said. I’d been thinking about this on our final afternoon in camp, as clouds gathered, tall as mountains, above the dry, sandy riverbed. As usual, there were rumblings—the same >>

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The Perfect Madagascar Adventure Take in the island’s lively capital, unique national parks and white-sand archipelagoes on this suggested itinerary from Africa specialist Explore, Inc. Getting there

Fly via Johannesburg, Mauritius or Paris to Antananarivo (TNR). From there, connections are available to gateways like Tôlanaro, on the island’s south, or Nosy Be, off the northern coast. Days 1&2

dreadful teasing of the past few weeks. Then, suddenly, the unmistakable musk of rain on hot soil. There came the plopping of a few single drops, then a sheet of water. I watched children tear out from the village across the river into the downpour, arms upstretched to the sky. I ran like that into the first storms of my childhood. Is there a better way to greet rain? A double rainbow across the sky behind a huge baobab—surely that had to be auspicious? A baobab, of all trees: that grand, ancient witness to an age, standing metallic pink in the rain. An hour later I heard news from my childhood home: Robert Mugabe had been put under house arrest. Just like that, a line scored through history, the old tyrant wheeled out. The immediate future was unlikely to be much easier for Zimbabweans, but in that country, in that moment, there was elation. And here, on the banks of the Mandrare River, as the world was washed all the way back to the beginning of time, there was elation too. It had to be only a matter of time before both things could exist in one place: the end of tyranny, and the end of drought. Until then, I’d been reminded of an indelible childhood lesson. We live in the seasons, never in spite of them, whatever ideas to the contrary we trick ourselves into believing.

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Antananarivo The capital, known as “Tana,” is a city of more than 1.5 million in the island’s central highlands. Check in to Lokanga Boutique Hotel (lokangahotel.mg; doubles from US$150), a renovated 1930s town house in the central Royal Hill district with retro touches like a 1950 Citroën available for driving tours. Or stay at Maison Gallieni (maison gallieni.com; doubles from US$157), a smartly designed four-room hotel in a 19th-century building that once housed Madagascar’s first bank. Days 3&4

Andohahela National Park Transfer to Mandrare River Camp (madaclassic. com; tents from US$1,650 per person for three nights, all-inclusive), near the southern tip of the island, via private charter flight arranged by the camp or your tour operator. This fully solar-powered property has seven riverside tents, each with a private porch shaded by tamarind trees. Daytime excursions, like lemur spotting and tours with the Antandroy community, wrap up with a communal three-course dinner. Days 5&6

Anjajavy Reserve Arrange your next chartered flight through

Anjajavy Le Lodge (anjajavy.com; doubles from US$800), a Relais & Châteaux property in the forests of the northwestern Sofia region. Set within a private 750-hectare reserve, the lodge consists of 24 two-story villas facing the Mozambique Channel. One highlight is the Edenic “Oasis” garden: an ecosystem of aquatic plants, fruit trees and indigenous fauna. Days 7&8

The Islands Madagascar’s northern coast is dotted with idyllic, unspoiled islands. Safari operator Time & Tide Africa recently launched its first Madagascar property, Miavana (timeandtideafrica.com; villas from US$6,000, all-inclusive), on the private island of Nosy Ankao. The resort’s 14 oceanside villas offer a degree of luxury you won’t find elsewhere in the country. In the pristine Mitsio Archipelago, the 25 thatched-roof villas of Constance Tsarabanjina (constancehotels.com; doubles from US$790) hug the shore of another private island. The estate’s catamaran fleet and waterfront seafood restaurant make it one of Madagascar’s best beach options. Tour oper ator

Southern Africa specialist Cherri Briggs, featured on T+L’s A-List of top travel advisors, heads the team at Explore, Inc., which curates custom Madagascar itineraries tailored to specific interests such as wildlife tracking, fishing and sailing, or cultural immersion. exploreinc.com; from US$500 per person per night.

Maldives blue seas.

The active life in the Maldives.

Supertrees in Singapore. Frolicking in Phuket, Thailand.

SIngapore Grand Prix. Bangkok’s Grand Palace.

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We say Singapore is one of the world’s best cities for family fun. Time flies frolicking in zoos, aquariums, safaris, museums, parks and beaches. Our budding foodies devour kaya toast and chili crab and clamor for more. The futuristic, sustainable Gardens by the Bay is a big hit, but, especially to our curious young adventurers, there is eye-candy everywhere.

These gorgeous islands aren’t just for honeymooners; kids love the Swiss Family Robinson castaway feeling, too. And there’s plenty to distract them while we parents relax at the spa. From arts and crafts using shells and leaves to locavore Maldivian cooking classes to plunging into the famous clear waters and learning about the aquatic ecosystem, the cultural activites in this vibrant island nation offer our little wanderers a healthy dose of majaa—fun!

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th e e x p e ri e nc e

Call of the Wild

Nature-loving travelers are making an impact by collaborating with scientists in the field. On a visit to the Peruvian rain forest, John Wray collects tiger moths by moonlight, dodges fruit bats and giant beetles, and studies the world’s most beautiful birds— all while enjoying the comforts of a simple but stylish lodge. I was stuck in the mud when the wild pigs arrived.

It wasn’t just any mud: it was Amazonian mud, in one of the wildest stretches of rain forest a boat can safely reach. I had come to the Tambopata National Reserve, more than 270,000 protected hectares in southeastern Peru, on a visit organized by Rainforest Expeditions, a tour operator that owns and manages lodges where travelers can experience the biodiversity of the region while assisting the scientists working there. I was looking at a band-tailed manakin, a bird the size of a teacup and the color of sunset, putting on a show for a prospective mate. It crossed my mind, as I watched the manakin displaying its plumage, that I’d never seen anything more beautiful.

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Then I caught the scent of the pigs. The day before, I had traveled by plane from Lima to the rain-forest city of Puerto Maldonado, where I was met by Silverio Duri, my guide. On the four-hour boat ride from Infierno, an indigenous settlement, to the Tambopata Research Center (TRC), the lodge where I would be spending the next two nights, Silverio had cautioned me about the pigs— white-lipped peccaries, to be exact. “They’re generally harmless,” he told me, “but don’t get in the way of a herd. Their tusks are sharp as razors.” “Razors,” I repeated, trying to sound casual. “Okay.” “If they surround you, bonk them on the nose.” This tip should have made an impression on me. I quickly forgot it, however, dining on a dish of chicken in coca sauce and sipping passion-fruit nectar on my first night at TRC’s newly expanded ecotourism accommodations. The spectacular macaws for which this region is famous distracted me as well, to say nothing of the half-dozen species of monkey whose howls echoed through the forest. Though great care has been taken in the design of the center’s thatch-roofed suites, which have tropical wood floors and décor by indigenous artists, visitors come for the wildlife, and the management knows it. The mosquito netting of my canopy bed was all that separated me from the open jungle. Visions of jaguars, which can occasionally be seen in Tambopata, danced in my head until dawn. Peccaries, not so much. Now, up to my shins in muck, I remembered Silverio’s warning. The smell of the pigs hit me first: a musty pong that reminded me of certain New York subway cars in summer. By the time the first one came into view, the smell was so overpowering that I felt almost drunk. Silverio whispered to keep absolutely still: he wanted to see how close the herd would come before we spooked them. Very close, it turned out. Suddenly they were everywhere, hundreds of them, grunting and clacking their tusks, flowing around us like a river.

J a s o n E d wa r d s / g e t t y i m a g e s

Macaws feed on a mineralrich clay lick at Tambopata National Reserve. opposite, from top: The lobby bar at Refugio Amazonas, a Rainforest Expeditions lodge; a bird’s-eye view of Tambopata River.

fr o m t o p : c o u r t e s y o f r a i n f o r e s t e x p e d i t i o n s ; M at t h i a s S c h i c k h o f e r / g e t t y i m a g e s

The term for this t ype of tourist-scientist collaboration, which has been put into practice in regions as far-flung as New Zealand and Norway, is citizen science, and the experts are as excited about the possibilities as the guests. “Research in the Amazon is expensive, and government funding, especially in the U.S., is as endangered as the animals we study,” Alex Borisenko, a Canadian biodiversity specialist I met at breakfast, told me. “Citizen science is looking more and more like the future of fieldwork. It’s also fun.” Impact-conscious tourism in the Amazon has seen a boom in recent years, but Rainforest Expeditions offers nature lovers an experience few competitors can match: the opportunity to collaborate with a biologist doing cuttingedge work in the field. Through the company’s Wired Amazon projects, visitors can use camera traps to study nighttime jaguar movements or drone footage to track the reproductive status of Brazil-nut trees, then follow the project from home and even continue contributing to its database. Encounters with peccaries, monkeys, capybaras and other creatures are common in Tambopata, but the reserve is particularly renowned for its clay licks: areas of exposed earth, generally along a riverbank, where a variety of jungle animals gather to ingest clay. The TRC is the only permanent human habitation permitted in the reserve, having been grandfathered in when the area became officially protected in 2000. Biologists had been studying the ecology of the nearby clay licks for 16 years by then, attempting to understand the significance of the greasy pink clay to

the metabolism of the monkeys, parakeets and macaws that risk their lives to feed on it in broad daylight, in plain view of potential predators. The likely answer turns out to be fairly straightforward— the clay is high in sodium and other vital minerals. At feeding time, the sight of hundreds of birds clinging raucously to the riverbank in a fluttering curtain of primary color borders on the psychedelic. Silverio woke me before dawn on my first morning at Tambopata, and we took a boat, with a handful of other ornithologically minded guests, to a wooded bluff a stone’s throw from the reserve’s most famous lick. It wasn’t long before the birds

more citizen-science adventures Discover Beetles in Borneo Taxon Expeditions

leads 10-day trips to Borneo that includes hands-on biological field work in a professional research center among the untouched rain forest of Ulu Temburong National Park in Brunei. Last year’s expedition discovered six new beetles, and named one after environmentalist and actor Leonardo DiCaprio. taxonexpeditions.com; 10-day trips from US$4,600. Monitor Siberian tigers

There are only about 530 of these animals left in the world. For Natural World Safaris, conservationist Alexander Batalov leads groups to set and collect camera traps to record the tigers’ movements. naturalworldsafaris.com; seven-day trips from US$3,150.

Track big fish in the seas of Sri Lanka Orca Project Sri

Lanka invites the public to share their sightings of the mammals, and collates the findings online via social media. Logs have found that peak visits are from November to January and March to April and have identified nine returning orcas, which citizens also had the chance to name. fb.com/ orcaprojectsrilanka.

Map coral reefS in Oman

Musandam, a rocky exclave on the Persian Gulf, is home to a little-studied reef ecosystem. With Biosphere Expeditions, scuba-certified travelers can stay on a research boat, conducting survey dives and synthesizing data that directly inform conservation. biosphereexpeditions.org; seven-day trips from US$2,770. — Hannah Walhout & ELoise BAsuki

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

th e e x p e ri e nc e

from top:

Clearwing butterflies are found across Central and South America; the Tambopata Research Center Lodge.

to the collection site. We hadn’t been there long before a glossy black projectile hit me heavily on the thigh as I was collecting moths from a “light trap,” which is basically a white sheet hung between trees with a lamp behind it. I was startled to find a baseball-size bug preparing to wage war with my heel. “Rhino beetle!” Juan said, as wonder-struck as I was. He gingerly removed it from my boot and showed me the surprisingly delicate wings hidden under its shell. I’ve had a mild phobia of insects since childhood, but that night I was too fascinated to care. As we continued to gather specimens, some bound for the national collection back in Lima, Juan described watching from the branches of an ironwood tree as a stream of army ants flowed past, devouring everything organic in its path. It’s a testament to his gift for arousing scientific curiosity that I listened with a twinge of envy. It’s a cliché that we tr avel to forget our mundane lives in exotic locales. But I, for one, travel to recover the past: to be knocked back to the person I was at eight years old, when I hadn’t a doubt that the world beyond our fly-over town was as action-packed and strange as adventure novels had made it seem. This inner time travel doesn’t happen often, but my encounter with the wild peccaries was one such moment. The vast herd thundered past, but didn’t scare off the tiny birds above us. The jewel-like male manakin continued its show on that low-hanging branch, a dot of resplendent calm in all the tumult. I stood rooted in place, catching snatches of its song. Suddenly a fruit bat appeared, its wingspan as long as my arm, startled from its daytime sleep by the arrival of the pigs. It circled above us in silent panic, close enough that I could feel the beat of its wings. This was exactly how, as an eight-year-old, I’d imagined the rain forest: a continuous pageant, so teeming with life that there was barely space for one more living creature. Here was the jungle of my childhood imagination, in its fluttering, grunting, twittering, stinking glory. I may never wash that pink mud off my shoes.

visiting the tambopata reserve Fly into Jorge Chávez International Airport in Lima then transfer to Padre Aldamiz International Airport in Puerto Maldonado. Rainforest Expeditions (perunature.com) operates both Refugio Amazonas (doubles from US$578; two-night minimum) and the more remote Tambopata Research Center (doubles from US$628; three-night minimum). The cost includes meals, activities, river transportation and transfer to and from Puerto Maldonado; alcoholic beverages cost extra. Your luggage should weigh no more than 15 kilograms. Bring long-sleeve cotton shirts and pants, hiking boots, a broad-brimmed hat, rain gear, sunblock, insect repellent and slippers or sandals to wear around the lodges. Vaccinations for hepatitis, typhoid and yellow fever are recommended. Aracari (aracari.com), a Lima-based tour company, can incorporate visits to the lodges into a longer Peruvian itinerary.

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

courtesy of r ainforest e xpeditions (2)

started coming, in a trickle at first, then in a deluge. Gaudy though they are, parrots and macaws are hard to see in the jungle, generally keeping to the higher strata of the canopy, where they look black or gray against the sky. But at the clay licks they crowded against one another like commuters, jostling and screeching between greedy mouthfuls. Sitting comfortably on a folding campstool, feasting my eyes on the colorful spectacle and my stomach on passion-fruit pound cake, I felt as decadent as it’s possible to feel in the middle of the wilderness. At the Refugio Amazonas, a Rainforest Expeditions lodge located just outside the reserve, guests can assist Juan Grados Arauco, an entomologist at Lima’s Museum of Natural History, in collecting specimens of tiger moth. They even have the opportunity, should one of the moths prove to be unknown to science, to give the new species its name. I felt slightly inclined to roll my eyes at this, until I was informed that 11 new tiger moths had been recorded in only the past 16 months. Then I wanted to find my own. The night I worked with Juan, we trooped through the twilit forest in clunky rubber boots

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Resort pool.

IMAGINE IF YOU TOOK YOUR FAVORITE fully integrated resort in Bali, and transplanted all the indulgence, service and smiles—not to mention glorious golden-sunset orientation—to a castaway UNESCO World Heritage Site famous for its amazing, unique native nature. Actually, nevermind, because we assure you the brand-new AYANA Komodo Resort, Waecicu Beach is even more magical than you could imagine. Perched alone on the island of Labuan Bajo, an hour’s flight from Bali, the exclusive resort is its own piece of paradise that is also a great launchpoint for spectacular, sustainable tourism throughout this wondrous Indonesian archipelago.

Cabin onboard AYANA Lako di’a.

Pink Beach.

We’re talking the serious life aquatic: in addition to their new glass-bottom boat, speedboat, and phinisi for day-trips, AYANA Komodo is also taking to the seas with their gorgeous custom nine-bedroom liveaboard phinisi AYANA Lako di’a, which sails you to some of the world’s best scuba spots in the literal lap of luxury. AYANA means “place of refuge” in Sanskrit, and the name has never been more apt than at this new fairyland, which encompasses multiple pink-sand beaches, the protected home of the Komodo dragon, the world’s largest lizard… and the first and only five-star resort in Flores. For reservations or more information, visit AYANA.COM.

pil g rim a g e

Cuba, on the Fly

On an island where time has stood still for half a century, the saltwater flats of southern Cuba have been left largely untouched by tourism. As more visitors begin to enter the country, sportfishing tours are making it easier—and more affordable—to get a world-class catch. By Peter K aminsk y

from top:

Fly rods strapped to a car en route to Playa Larga, an angler’s destination; an Orvis fishing trip in Cuba’s Ciénaga de Zapata Biosphere Reserve.

the water. Behind me, on a platform in the stern, our guide Felipe Rodriguez poled us along, gondolier-style. It was sunny—ideal for visibility—but what the sun gave, the 40 kilometer-an-hour wind took, obscuring our view of the underwater world. Fly-fishing for bonefish has an aspect of hunting, but it always takes awhile before I can recognize my quarry. Until I could make out the ghostly shadow of a moving bonefish, Felipe would be my eyes. Every now and then, I caught a fleeting glimpse of a few bonefish in the lee of the low-lying mangroves. Ahead, all the way to the horizon, was a windswept expanse of emerald green, aquamarine and sun-bleached white. For fly-rod anglers, catching bonefish— silver-scaled creatures that inhabit the sun-drenched tidal flats of the tropics— is supremely challenging and rewarding.

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You must stalk with stealth: a sudden movement or errant cast will send the fish rocketing for deeper water. I’ve fished for them off the Yucatán Peninsula in Mexico and the Florida Keys, but I’ve long been entranced by the story of baseball immortal Ted Williams, who caught 40 bonefish one day in Cuba and called it the best fishing of his life. So last fall, when my old friend Tom Rosenbauer, now marketing manager at the fly fishing–focused Orvis Company, called to tell me about a trip he had put together off Cuba’s southern coast with five other anglers, I was in. Despite recent changes in regulations, it’s still possible to travel to Cuba as U.S. citizen, provided we spend a couple of days engaging with Cuban culture and meeting locals. While that makes it harder for individuals to plan a trip, it doesn’t change much for organized tours—Orvis made the arrangements, hooking us up with a great guide, Orlando Ochoa Méndez, a DJ who told us he’d learned English by listening to Eminem. We started with a whirlwind tour of Havana, a part of the trip I thought would feel rote but wound up being a hit. We roamed art galleries and a museum, attended a living-room concert by a folk singer, and marveled at a workshop where jalopies are restored to their shining 1950s glory. We drank mojitos copiously and had a supernal suckling pig at Al Carbon (53-78/639-697; mains from US$14). There was live music everywhere. You couldn’t help walking around with a mambo bounce in your step. Our fishing destination was located across the island, near the Bay of Pigs. A decommissioned army tank marked our turnoff to the Hotel Playa Larga. Not a luxury hotel, but fine for a fish camp: clean rooms,

s i m o n p e r k i n s / c o u r t e s y o f t h e o r v i s c o m pa n y ( 2 )

I stood in the bow of our skiff, scanning

P e t e r M c Br i d e / g e t t y i m a g e s

functioning air conditioners, screens to keep the bugs out, and plenty of hot water. From there it was an hour’s drive to our boat launch. Each day, our group of anglers bumped along through a thick coastal forest and past tidal lagoons where pelicans and roseate spoonbills gathered. We drove to Ciénaga de Zapata National Park, a unesco Biosphere Reserve whose mangrove forests and coral reefs are among the few places in this hemisphere that look virtually unchanged from the day the first humans arrived there. No more than 10 catchand-release fishing boats per day are allowed into its 6,280 square kilometers—a far cry from the crowded waters of the Florida Keys and the Bahamas. Our party set out in shallow-draft boats. Tom was my fishing partner. After a frustrating morning of trying to make out fish in the wind-whipped water, we came up on a sheltered area, no bigger than a walk-in closet, among the mangroves. I saw a fin flicker. I cast. The fish took my fly. It was all I could do to keep it out of the mangroves before my line got completely entangled. Not exactly your classic open-water bonefish run, but at least I’d put a score on the board. That night, we rehashed the events in the hotel bar, an alfresco affair under a thatched roof. As we sipped, a quartet with a guitar and conga drums played what sounded like a love song. The lyrics, it turned out, were about Commander Che and his “querida presencia” (beloved presence). Come to think of it, I suppose it was a love song of sorts. We had dinner at La Terraza de Mily (5345/987-376; mains from US$8), a nearby paladar (a family-run restaurant typical in Cuba). The specialty was local seafood: crabs, broiled rock lobster and grilled snapper, served with rice and beans, fried plantains or crispy yuca. On the nights that followed, we ate on the beach to the accompaniment of Afro-Cuban bands and spontaneous mambo performances. My favorite restaurant was Don Alexis (53-53/660928; mains from US$10), where, because of a

Bonefish are known to feed in Cuba’s tropical saltwater flats.

traveling to cuba Getting there

power outage, we dined by the light of the owner’s motor scooter. We sat next to the charcoal grill where the chef produced lobster, blue crabs and red snapper—simply cooked and simply served. They don’t do fancy in Cuba. On our third day, Tom and I each caught eight or nine good-size bonefish, but soon it was time to rendezvous with the group. We cruised past saltwater flats and a string of mangrove hammocks. Suddenly, Felipe cut the engine. In front of us we saw a dozen bonefish nosing along the bottom, their tails wiggling above the surface, reflecting the flaming-pink sunset. This was the peak of the bonefish game. We tried a few shots. The fish ate our flies. It couldn’t have been more perfect. After some early clouds on our final morning, the sun came out and lit up the underwater world as warm and golden as a baby’s smile. Here and there, we saw the silhouettes of bones eating their way across the white and watery plain. I slipped into the shallows to stalk the fish on foot. I was entranced, gauging the distance as I cast, trying to lead the moving fish by a few feet, stripping my fly, hooking up. A song bubbled up within me, “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms,” an old hymn that became the sotto voce soundtrack of the next hour. Why that? And why then? I have no idea, but fishing will do that to you. When the bonefish finally departed the flat, I looked up, as if waking from a dream. Tom and I clambered back into the boat, lit a victory cigar, and headed for home.

In front of us we saw a dozen bonefish, their tails wiggling above the surface, reflecting the flaming-pink sunset

It’s easiest for Asiabased travelers to fly to Cuba from ports in the U.S.; JetBlue, American, United, Delta and Southwest all have flights to Havana. Planning a trip

You’ll need a Tourist Card to enter Cuba. These are valid for 30-day stays and are available from travel agents or airline ticket offices, and in some cases obtainable at the airline counter on the day of departure; check with your local embassy for details. For a hassle-free experience, book through an outfitter—they’ll handle flights and itineraries and ensure you’re complying with current regulations. The Orvis Company plans weeklong fishing trips (orvis.com; from US$5,895) and subcontracts with Cuba Educational Travel (cuba educationaltravel. com) for the Havana portion of the trip. If you’d rather skip the fishing altogether, CET can arrange custom itineraries. Prefer to go it alone? For a guide to the new rules, head to tandl.me/cuba.

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

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The Legend of Swanlake and the Ugly Duckling

Ju Percussion Group, Taipei, Taiwan 16/9/2018 (7.30 pm)

Classical Ballet, Moscow State Classical Ballet, Russia Conductor: Evgeny Volynsky 7/10/2018 (2.30 pm)

The Magnificent Seven

The International Magicians Society’s Top Seven Magicians of The World 19-20/9/2018 (7.30 pm)

Michael Jackson Tribute Concert USA and Europe 8/10/2018 (7.30 pm)

Break the Tango / Hip Hop

Argentina and Switzerland 22/9/2018 (7.30 pm), 23/9/2018 (2.30 pm)

Photo: Taj Express

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Korean Symphony Orchestra

Karlsruhe Ballet, Germany 14/10/2018 (7.30 pm)

Classical Weddings

Karlsruhe Ballet, Germany 15/10/2018 (7.30 pm)

Republic of Korea 24/9/2018 (7.30 pm)

Gala Performance

Singapore Dance Theatre, Singapore 26/9/2018 (7.30 pm)

Born to Dance

Los Vivancos, Spain 18/10/2018 (7.30 pm)

Taj Express

Bollywood Musical, India 28/9/2018 (7.30 pm), 29/9/2018 (2.30 pm)

Details for all performances:

www.bangkokfestivals.com Hotline 02 262 3191 (24 hrs) www.thaiticketmajor.com

Supported by SCG Venue: Thailand Cultural Centre, Bangkok

UPGRADE september 2018

tr a ve l s m a rter

Sailing around Rinca Island on a tour of Indonesia’s clear waters with Peregrine Adventures.

Seeing the Bigger Picture

c h r i s t o p h e r k u c way

Beyond-the-guidebook itineraries remain immensely popular, and the passionate travelers who seek them out have a vested interest in choosing experiences that are ethically sound, culturally sensitive and environmentally sustainable. Operators have long referred to the concept as responsible tourism, and now it’s entering the zeitgeist. We can all easily adopt a more conscientious approach to travel in ways both major and minor. Below, check out four new itineraries from top operators, and in the ensuing pages, discover strategies to pack lighter, connect with locals on a deeper level, and leave the places you visit just as you found them—perhaps even a little better.

INDONESIA

AUSTRALIA

Peregrine Adventures launched five new tours this year to uncrowded coastal communities in Southeast Asia, including an eight-day excursion throughout this country. The company’s small, carbon-neutral ships stop in tiny port destinations Moyo Island and Bangsal. Experiences include meeting traditional sarong weavers, exploring rice paddies and staying in locally owned accommodations. peregrineadventures.com; from $3,170 per person.

Partnering with local organizations is key to Coral Expeditions’ philosophy. Next month, the eco-cruise operator will embark on its second Cape York & Arnhem Land Indigenous Australian Art itinerary, which begins in Darwin and ends in Cairns, and includes stops on islands along the Great Barrier Reef. The 11-night voyage celebrates Aboriginal heritage with visits to galleries and meeting places, such as Bábbara Women’s Center, where women silk-screen and

*Prices throughout are listed in U.S. dollars for ease of comparison.

then sell textiles. coralexpeditions.com; from $8,290 per person. PERU

During a nine-day trip that spans archaeological sites and cities, guests on Classic Escapes’ Andean trips visit the Cuyuni people, who live near the Sacred Valley just an hour from Cuzco. Here, villagers discuss how they embrace modern farming and tourism while maintaining ancestral traditions. classicescapes.com; from $3,495 per person.

TANZANIA

This year, luxury safari group andBeyond launched a trio of philanthropic itineraries to help travelers connect with the people of Africa. These include the 10-day Travel with Purpose excursion, during which tour members bike to the agrarian Mayoka and Moya communities for a wildlife drive not far from the Ngorongoro Crater and a conservation lesson with students from a local school. andbeyond.com; from $9,584 per person. — Mel anie Lieberman

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

upgr ade

Ta ke five

The Basics of Traveling Responsibly Leigh Barnes, the newly appointed chief purpose officer of Intrepid Travel (intrepidtravel.com), oversees the adventure-focused operator’s mission to base all of its tours, in more than 120 countries, on responsible principles. He offers tips for planning a conscious getaway.

A typical day on Koh Phi Phi Leh’s crowded Maya Bay Beach.

By Siobhan Reid

The term refers to a focus on how individual actions affect individual locations and businesses. It’s about bettering communities and bolstering local economies through individual actions. The 2002 World Summit on Sustainable Development in Johannesburg, South Africa, formalized the travel industry’s objective as “making better places for people to live in and better places for people to visit.” Why does it make a difference to travelers?

For one, you’ll have a more authentic experience. The better informed you are, the easier a time you’ll have connecting with locals and immersing yourself in the culture. You’ll probably make more friends and discover some cool local hangouts. What are some vacation experiences the responsible traveler should avoid?

Steer clear of elephant rides and other performative wildlife activities. The animals are at risk of being mistreated by the host companies, and training practices can be physically and mentally harmful to the animals. Visits to orphanages can also be problematic. In some instances, the children actually do have parents, but they’ve been removed from

their homes and placed in these orphanages to meet tourist demand. How can we determine if a trip is executed responsibly?

Start by asking questions. Does the trip or tour activity bring real economic value directly to the community? Does it empower the people? Is it respectful of the natural and cultural heritage of that place? The answers will help you choose an operator that supports the local economy. Also look for businesses that are making strides toward becoming carbon-neutral. What are some small ways people can make their travels more responsible?

Any place that gets too many visitors will have a deterioration in the natural environment and the quality of life for the locals. This is why off-the-beaten-path experiences—like adventure cruising, with smaller vessels that travel to destinations and ports that no other ships go to—are preferable. Intrepid just launched tours to Moldova, Poland and Finland as a way of providing alternatives to more heavily trafficked Croatia and Iceland. But whatever your destination, shop at independent businesses to support the local economy and refrain from single-use plastics to help keep trash out of landfills.

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

T he l ex icon

overtourism (noun) When the natural carrying capacity of a destination has been exceeded—whether permanently or temporarily—by the number of visitors. Tourism can be a financial boon for cities and an aid in the preservation of natural wonders. But there’s a limit to the volume any place can reasonably sustain before it (and its resources) are overwhelmed. During the past year, several governments have started implementing restrictions aimed at reining in all the traffic. The most abrupt closure this year was of popular Philippine holiday spot Boracay in April as part of the government’s efforts to rehabilitate the island’s environment, which the country’s president labeled a “cesspool.” Its beaches—which hosted more than 2 million tourists in 2017—were plagued by recent algal blooms due to the island’s poor sewage conditions, but are set to reopen at the end of October. Thailand is no stranger to island shutdowns either, with temporary closures of the Similan Islands’ Koh Tachai, and the Koh Kai archipelago off Phuket. This year, Koh Phi Phi Leh’s iconic Maya Bay Beach was targeted, closed for four months to allow for its corals and sealife to recover from extensive damage. Five thousand people a day traveled to the tiny bay made famous by Leonardo DiCaprio’s 2000 film The Beach, and local ecologists have called for a cap on visitors when the beach reopens at the end of this month. Across Europe, authorities in Venice and other popular seaside destinations—including Dubrovnik, Croatia, and Santorini, Greece—now limit the size and number of large cruise ships allowed to dock at their ports and encourage travelers to seek accommodations outside of historic city centers. Travelers can also lessen their impact by visiting during off seasons, when there will be fewer tourists putting stress on a place and its people. For places specifically affected by climate change (think: the Great Barrier Reef, Fiji and the Maldives), take the time to be a careful steward of the land while you’re there: don’t disturb animals or their habitats, don’t touch corals or vegetation on land, and throw away any litter you see. — Mel anie Lieberman & Eloise Basuki

LILLIAN SUWAN R U M PHA / g e t t y i m a g e s

How do you define responsible tourism?

H e a d s h o t: N o e l Va s q u e z / G e t t y Im a g e s . Pr o d u c t s : K e v i n S w e e n e y. Pr o p S t y l i s t: S a b r i n a Gr a n d e

T he ca rry- on

How Adrian Grenier Lightens His Footprint Since his run on HBO’s Entourage, the Brooklyn-based actor has focused more on activism than screen projects, serving as a UN Environment Goodwill Ambassador and cofounding Lonely Whale, an incubator for ideas and projects that lead to cleaner oceans. The lifelong philanthropist explains how he goes the extra mile to minimize waste, rely on natural products, and stay healthy on the road—and how you can, too. By Sar ah Bruning 1 WORKOUT CLOTHING “I always have to get a run in or get to the gym, so I start by packing exercise clothes— that’s a priority for me. Lately I have been wearing Reebok bottoms and old T-shirts that I have cut the sleeves off.” Reebok men’s running winter tights, $55; reebok.com. Men’s United by Blue x Lonely Whale T-shirt, $36; unitedbyblue.com. 2 NATURAL TOOTHPASTE “Since glass containers are better for the environment, I buy this alkalizing toothpaste, which comes in a jar.” Uncle Harry’s Anise Toothpaste, $6; uncleharrys.com.

3 FACE CLEANSER “The consistency of this one from Isa’s line feels like you’re giving yourself a little mud bath. All of her products are plant-based, with very few ingredients.” Isa’s Restoratives Liquid Clay Cleanser Travel Size, $15; isasrestoratives. myshopify.com.

A KINDLE “I like to use things to the absolute end of their lives and try to resist having a throwaway mentality. I finally upgraded to a new Kindle about a year ago, but it’s still in the case for my old one.” Kindle Paperwhite E-Reader, $120; amazon.com. 4

5 BEAUTY BALM “All of Isa’s stuff is amazing— handmade, organic and packed in glass jars. I have eczema, too, so it’s good for keeping my skin on point.” Isa’s Restoratives Blue Beauty Balm, $60; isasrestoratives. myshopify.com. 6 A STURDY SUITCASE “When you travel as much as I do, you try to avoid checking in your bag. My Tumi is great because it has a designated place for suits, so you can fold them up and get quite a lot in there while still being nimble. It’s all about not being bogged down by excess.” Tumi International Expandable

Four-Wheeled Carry-On, $725; tumi.com. 7 MASSAGE BALLS “When I get tight muscles in the sky, I like to use one of these. Don’t wanna get deep-vein thrombosis!” Spiky Massage Ball (red), US$10; Pro-Tec Orb Extreme Mini (black), US$15; Dr. Cohen’s AcuBall Mini (blue), $20. pro-tecathletics.com. 8 RESISTANCE BANDS “If I don’t have the chance to go to the gym, I pack these to give myself options. They’re versatile enough to use in a hotel room.” TheraBand CLX Consecutive Loops, $15–$25; theraband.com.

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

upgr ade The Great Barrier Reef.

a d eeper l ook

The Hidden Value of Big-Ticket Trips Today’s low-impact, small-scale, conservation-focused vacations can cost an awful lot—but you’re paying for much more than just a bucket-list adventure. For many people, a safari is the trip of a lifetime. The experience certainly doesn’t come cheap, but travelers should understand that the price often stems from more than luxe accommodations, all-inclusive dining and wildlife drives. Many operators use a portion of the fee to fund essential animal and nature conservation projects. “Contributing to the preservation of these natural wonders helps guarantee that

they will be sustained,” says Bruce A. Stein, chief scientist of the U.S.’s National Wildlife Federation. “And paying for a quality tour experience, which engages with and benefits local communities, helps to ensure that these places will continue to be available for other travelers.” Africa-based operators have led the way in developing forward-thinking initiatives. Luxury safari group andBeyond (andbeyond.com),

which runs 29 lodges on the continent and also hosts journeys across India, Nepal, Bhutan and more, partners with Africa Foundation to work with the leaders of villages around its properties. The company also relocates rhinos and other endangered species to habitats with a low risk of poaching and, most recently, secured three island properties where it can support monitoring and research efforts. “Working with community leaders helps us give wildlife systems a fighting chance while providing the communities with immediate direct benefits,” says andBeyond’s founder Joss Kent. Many hotels and tour companies offering wildlifefocused experiences elsewhere in the world are also giving back to their regions. Award-winning travel operator Scott Dunn (scottdunn.com) works with a range of eco-conscious properties that take pride in preserving their surrounding biodiversity: Vietnam’s Six Senses Con Dao (sixsenses. com) supports turtle nesting and hatching while raising funds to teach locals to swim; and the coral restoration project at Soneva Kiri (soneva. com) in eastern Thailand has discovered more than 69 different species of fish.

Further north, Chiang Rai’s Four Seasons Tented Camp Golden Triangle

(fourseasons.com) partners with the Golden Triangle Asian Elephant Foundation, which has rescued more than 20 elephants from cruel conditions and rehabilitates them in a wild setting. In Australia, luxury lodge Lizard Island Resort (lizardi sland.com.au) maintains an internationally recognized research station that studies the Great Barrier Reef. — De vor ah Le v-Tov & Eloise Basuki

No matter where you want to go for your next trip, you have a growing number of resources at your disposal to help you make more conscientious choices at every stage of your journey. The Center for Responsible Travel (responsibletravel.org) provides a detailed checklist of guidelines to follow before, during and after a trip. Another easy way to make a lasting impact: donate funds to offset the carbon dioxide you’re responsible for releasing during transit. Environmental nonprofit Carbon Fund (carbonfund. org) offers a tool that does the math for you based on your methods of transportation.

b u rning q u e s tion

The short answer: most likely. The majority of mainstream sunscreens contain oxybenzone, a chemical filter that protects your skin from the sun’s harmful UV rays, but can also negatively affect the ocean’s coral reefs. Researchers have found that when corals are exposed to the chemical, they encounter an increased rate of bleaching, DNA damage, and, in some cases, death. Even if you aren’t swimming near a reef, your sunscreen can still endanger coral. As a matter of fact, you don’t even need to set foot in the water to cause harm. Oxybenzone can both stick to the sand and wash off in the shower, which means the chemical could end up in the sea. In response, many hotels, tour operators and destinations have begun advocating the use of reef-safe products. Aqua-Aston Hospitality, which operates more than 40 hotels and resorts throughout Hawaii, has installed reef-safe sunscreen dispensers at several of its properties. Additionally, the state’s legislators passed a bill banning the sale of sunscreens that use oxybenzone and another common chemical, octinoxate. If signed into law by the governor, the ban will take effect in January 2021. To ensure your sunscreen is eco-friendly, look for the Protect Land + Sea Certification seal, which confirms the product was tested and found to be free of problematic substances. You can also check the label for common ingredients like oxybenzone, octinoxate, octocrylene and parabens—all of which harm the environment. For a rundown of chemicals to avoid, visit haereticus-lab. org/protect-land-sea-certification, and find a list of reef-safe options on tandl.me/reef-safe-sunscreens. — John Scarpinato

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

J e ff H u n t e r / g e t t y i m a g e s

Is your sunscreen hurting the environment?

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CITY JAPAN

This month, book a family getaway in Bangkok, Penang or Macau, go diving in the Maldives or find a charming oasis in Kyoto.

Noku Kyoto Situated next door to the former Imperial Palace, Noku Kyoto is just as much a temple of Japanese culture, with its handcrafted interiors and curated art displays that feature in its 81 rooms. Noku Kyoto is offering an exclusive 20 percent discount off their standard rates and a complimentary room upgrade for T+L readers who stay before December 22. Upper rooms have views into the Imperial Garden, and the hotel’s café and steak house will add satisfying respites to your stay. The Deal Travel+Leisure Southeast Asia promotion: a night in a House room, from ¥15,700, through December 22. Blackout period November 1–December 1. To book, e-mail h1-resv@ nokuroxy.com and quote NK-TLSEA. nokuroxy.com.

The stylish lobby at Noku Kyoto.

SUPERSAVER Movenpick Asara Resort & Spa Hua Hin, Thailand

To celebrate its grand opening last month, this retreat on the Gulf of Thailand is offering 30 percent off stays in their pool villas, plus daily breakfast, dinner for two, and an extra US$20 restaurant voucher. The beachfront hotel’s one- and twobedroom villas include luxurious living areas, outdoor decks and plunge pools. The Deal Exclusive Opening Offer: a night in a pool villa, from Bt5,036, through November 30. movenpick.com.

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

FAMILY THAILAND

137 Pillars Suites & Residences Bangkok Kids stay for free with this offer from one of Bangkok’s most luxurious boutique hotels, 137 Pillars. Book the

fr o m t o p : c o u r t e s y o f N o k u K y o t o ; c o u r t e s y o f m o v e n p i c k a s a r a r e s o r t & s pa h u a h i n

SINGAPORE

Mandarin Oriental, Singapore Take a well-earned break from the city streets and refresh body and soul with Mandarin Oriental, Singapore’s Wellness Retreat package. The deal includes a night in an Ocean View room; a 60-minute yoga or personal training session; a 90-minute Mineral Wellness spa massage for two, designed to ease muscle tension and re-energize the body; a nutritious Italian lunch at Dolce Vita for two; and buffet breakfast at Melt Café. The Deal Wellness Retreat package: a night in an Ocean View room, from S$1,190, through December 31. mandarinoriental.com.

70-square-meter Sukhothai suite and one child can stay for free, or book a 95-squaremeter Ayutthaya suite to allow two children to stay for free. The deal for both rooms includes daily breakfast at the Leonowens Club, including Club access and benefits; scheduled shuttles to Phrom Phong BTS Skytrain station; complimentary Wi-Fi; choice of pillow types; and a welcome drink on arrival. The Deal The Family Bonus Kids Stay Free: a night in a Sukhothai suite from Bt16,000, and a night in an Ayutthaya suite from Bt18,000, through December 20. 137pillarsbangkok.com. MACAU

Conrad Macao, Cotai Central Located in the heart of the Cotai Strip, Conrad Macao is in the middle of all the action in this entertainment city. Book a night in a deluxe room for two adults and one child and you’ll get daily breakfast; a meet and greet with a Hilton Family Ambassador; one child’s amenity set; one healthy tea pack; complimentary upgrade to the next room category; late checkout; complimentary Wi-Fi; and complimentary shuttle services from major Macau arrival areas. The Deal Family Fun Package: a night in a deluxe room, from HK$1,858, through December 30. Include a second child from HK$250. sandscotaicentral.com.

Zone for two children, which includes exciting slides, an indoor playground and game zone; 15 percent discount on treatments at Chi, The Spa; and, for each day of their stay, children aged five to 12 years old will receive complimentary access to Cool Zone Kid’s Club. Guests will also have access to free Wi-Fi and daily free shuttle to and from George Town. The Deal Family Fun Package: a night in a Superior room, from RM680, through December 21. shangri-la.com.

BEACH MALAYSIA

The Datai Langkawi Relaunching after a 12-month renovation, The Datai Langkawi opens this month with a special 20 percent off the Best Available Rate on stays before March 15. The US$60-million overhaul has refreshed interiors as well as added three Rainforest Pool villas and a five-bedroom, 3,500-square-meter Estate villa to the property. The Datai Spa will feature the opening of Bastien Gonzalez’s first nail studio in Malaysia, and a team of naturalists and marine

biologists will run a brand-new Nature Centre. The deal also includes daily breakfast for two, guided morning and evening nature walks, complimentary minibar (excluding alcohol) and complimentary Wi-Fi. The Deal Reopening Offer: a night in a Canopy Deluxe room, from RM2,720, through March 15, 2019. thedatai.com. MALDIVES

Angsana Velavaru Surrounded by azure lagoons, Angsana Velavaru is home to a breathtaking underwater world. The Maldives resort is offering a four- or seven-night diving package to share its rich surroundings: both deals include accommodation for two people in a one-bedroom villa; complimentary use of all diving equipment and non-motorized sport equipment; full-board meals, and 25 percent off additional F&B consumption at restaurants and bars (excluding destination dining and in-villa dining); a spa session at Angsana Spa; a sunset cruise or a night fishing trip; and a 15-minute jet-ski

ride. The Deal Dive & Explore package: four nights in a Beachfront villa, from US$2,906, seven nights in a Beachfront villa, from US$4,999, through December 31, 2019. angsana.com. THAILAND

The Slate Phuket Release tension and experience Thai culture with this new action-packed offer, Hit, Heal and Heat, from The Slate Phuket. The two-night package includes a stay in a Pearl Bed suite; a private muay Thai class for two with complimentary Thai boxing shorts; an archery session for two at the Coliseum Lawn; dinner for two at Rivet; one mini bottle of Chalong Bay rum; a 60-minute Traditional Thai Massage for two; a Thai cooking class at Moo’s Kitchen for two; a private bar session for two to create a bespoke rum cocktail at Rebar; daily breakfast for two at Tin Mine; and airport transfers. The Deal Hit, Heal and Heat: two nights in a Pearl Bed suite, from Bt24,500, through February 28, 2019. theslatephuket.com.

courtesy of Angsana

MALAYSIA

Golden Sands Resort, Penang by Shangri-La For a vacation that won’t leave out your little ones, the Golden Sands Resort on Penang’s Batu Ferringhi Beach has a deal for the entire troop. It includes daily buffet breakfast for two adults and two children under six; daily buffet dinner for two adults and two children under six with free flowing beverages (soft drinks, juices, house wine and house beer); two-hour access to Adventure

Villas at Angsana Velavaru, Maldives.

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

julien gir ardot

At Matavaa O Te Fenua Enata, the Marquesan festival of the arts, page 78.

/ september 2018 / Dreamtime in Uluru, the heart of Australia | A conservation quest in Sumatra seeks orangutans | The middle-of-nowhere Marquesas | The Balkans go urbane in Latvia | Desert-dwelling in Jordan

Into the Dreamscape

r o n g l u c k m a n . o p p o s i t e : c o u r t e s y o f T o u r i s m NT

Sacred to the Anangu people, iconic Uluru is the crimson heart of Australia. When Ron Gluckman revisits the giant rock and its traditional caretakers, he finds a visceral spirit permeates the vast desert and lulls the mind into Dreamtime.

Glamping, Outbackstyle, at Longitude 131, which offers unobstructed views of Uluru. Opposite: A couple from Sydney, Matt and Diana Shuter, visit Kata Tjuta and Uluru in homage to Mattâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s parents, who met there 45 years ago.

tr av el andleisure asia .comâ&#x20AC;&#x2020;/ september 2018

e’re flying over Australia’s

Red Centre, a mostly barren landscape stretching to the horizon, a dramatic reminder that this is more a continent than country, and so much is truly the Outback. Which isn’t to suggest a lack of beauty. Quite the contrary, since a large measure of Australia’s allure stems from its staggering emptiness, mindboggling stretches of hills, coastline and raw earth. Such terrain naturally sends the mind drifting into reflective dreams that question our creation and purpose, jarred back to reality only occasionally by evidence of humans: a ribbon of road, some weathered houses, a desolate fence line. Then, out of nowhere, we suddenly see rocks. Big rocks. Humongous. By far the largest one is also the most impressive, and extraordinarily located. Uluru, known since 1872 as Ayers Rock, after a colonial official, squats almost dead center in Australia, a hulking orange-copper mass bulging from deceptively flat, enflamed desert like a divine pavilion belched up upon a majestic red carpet. Uluru is one of the world’s most famous inselbergs, “mountain islands” that are the remains of an eroded, ancient mountain range. The delightful term conjures up images of icebergs: and Uluru seems to be floating on the endless plain, with much of the mass of this iconic rock really underground. It has long been mandatory on travel itineraries. My first visit came in 1993. That was the year Uluru officially reclaimed its native name (although it didn’t fully discard the moniker Ayers until 2002) setting off a wave of restitutions of Aboriginal names for landmarks and natural resources across the country. Now, I’m back, with my wife on her first visit. I’ve booked hikes and excursions into the desert, plus starlit dinners in the dunes. And, since it’s our anniversary, the most luxurious retreat in these parts. A tourism boom has brought everything from camels to Segway tours to Uluru. But mindful of how attitudes have changed about sensitive stewardship over the past 25 years, we’ll be taking tours that highlight native art and legends, including explanations of the powerful Dreamtime creation stories of the indigenous Anangu people, who hold this area supremely sacred. When I last visited, climbing the 348-meter-high Uluru was a controversial habit of tourists—next year, the practice is to be banned. Instead, we’ll hike around it, and

A helicopter tour over Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park. below: Dune Pavilion views, Longitude 131.

have a look at the magnificent art installation nearby: Field of Light. Since meeting the artist, Bruce Munro, I’ve been yearning to see his inspirational work that puts 50,000 long-stem colored lights swaying in the foreground of Uluru, the most provocative, captivating change in this region in half a billion years. And as if to re-emphasize the spell that Dreamtime casts over visitors, Munro tells me the idea came to him in a vision when he also first visited Uluru a quarter-century ago. Hence, as we peer from the plane down at massive Uluru and the horizon far beyond, we are filled with anticipation. Then, another astounding formation pops into view, looming just as large, but composed of a cluster of huge rocks. When I last visited, these were called the Olgas. Now, they have reverted to the far more poetic name used for thousands of years by the Anangu people: Kata Tjuta, or Many Heads.

c o u r t e s y o f T o u r i s m NT. T o p : S h a a n a M c N a u g h t/ T o u r i s m NT

Somewhere between these hulking rocks cut from

mountains 500 to 600 million years ago is another more recent addition: the pearl-white sails of Longitude 131. The safari-style luxury lodge is hidden on the edge of Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, no mean feat, since aside from Uluru and the Kata Tjuta’s 36 domes, we see hardly a hill, and scant vegetation across the 1,326-square-kilometer park. From the plane, the uncompromisingly red flatness extends to the curvature of the Earth, a phenomenon that seems even more pronounced after we touch down. Opened in 2002, this collection of 15 cabins always abounded in natural splendor but originally lacked fivestar luxury—until it was taken over in 2013 by Baillie Lodges, acclaimed operator of small, exclusive retreats in remote locations like Southern Ocean Lodge on Kangaroo Island. Husband and wife James and Hayley Baillie closed Longitude 131 for four months last year, and their A$8 million makeover revamped the pool and added a spa, balconies around each tented pavilion, and a twobedroom villa. “It’s all about the experience, being there,” Hayley said when we met last year in Sydney. We don’t get our first glimpse of Longitude 131 until we bounce along dirt roads with jovial manager Adrian Levy, who suddenly swerves off track, churning clouds of red dust spinning through prickly vegetation. Then, like magic, we arrive at an array of mystical-looking tents. My jaw drops. “That’s the reaction we aim for,” he chuckles happily. There is plenty more of that to come. Sunrises bring daily eruptions of color electrifying the thin desert air, which we soak up from our private veranda. At night, we watch stars dance across the open sky, snuggling on the outdoor camp bed, heated by a rustic stove. Tea and treats appear at turndown. Not that we linger long. In this eerie land that existed 250 million years before dinosaurs even roamed the Earth, where temperatures can erupt into the mid-40s in summer and dive well below zero in winter, Longitude 131 guides, some of whom are Anangu, show off ancient rock paintings and explain their local legends of creation. (Voyages, the tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

c o u r t e s y o f T o u r i s m NT

A hulking copper mass, a divine pavilion belched up upon a majestic red carpet

The 348-meterhigh Uluru dwarfs all in its wake, including the tents of boutique resort Longitude 131.

t r a tv r ea lv a en ldal n ed i slue ri se ua rs ei aa .sci oa m . câ&#x20AC;&#x2020; /o s meâ&#x20AC;&#x2020; /p a tu em gu bs et r 2018

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company that operates most of the lodges and tourism here for the native Indigenous Land Corporation, has set a goal of 50 percent Aboriginal Australian employment and they are getting close.) Each day starts with an expedition at dawn, and usually continues right through to an epicurean adventure at night, whether dining in the dunes, or canapés by caves carved into Uluru. One morning, we are taken to Maruku Arts in the park’s small town center for a dot-painting workshop and hands-on introduction to Indigenous art. Alice Wheeler, an elder Anangu artist, draws in the sand, making circles and lines to show how symbols on famous local dot paintings tell the Dreamtime legends of creation. She demonstrates that complex art is composed of simple strokes—a circle for a place, an oval for a person, footmarks to show emu or kangaroo. Within minutes, our group is gleefully creating our own colorful sagas. My wife and I produce a pair of fabulous mementos of a most special wedding anniversary. A fuller, richer understanding of native life in this region is delivered at Uluru-Kata Tjuta Cultural Centre. Set inside a pair of red-brown buildings that mirror the color and appearance of the nearby rock formations, it features films and exhibits illuminating life in these lands going back thousands of years. The experience of aboriginal people around the world is filled with tragedy and loss. Australia has the unusual opportunity to re-address its interaction with its indigenous people, and I find the ongoing dialogue a fascinating facet of my visits to the country. After decades of protests, the Anangu regained ownership of their traditional land in 1985, although debates over use continue. On my first visit, outrage simmered over tourists climbing Uluru, which is sacrilege to the Anangu—though it is also dangerous: dozens have died scaling the rock, most recently a 66-year-old Japanese tourist in July. It will be forbidden next year.

Field of Light, by Bruce Munro, will be shining until 2020. above, from left: At a Maruku Arts dot-painting workshop in Yulara; local life includes emus.

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

r o n g l u c k m a n . a b o v e : S h a a n a M c N a u g h t/ T o u r i s m NT ( 2 )

Stays are all-inclusive at Longitude 131, beginning

with an introduction in the Dune Lodge, which is packed with reference books and periodicals, decorated with native crafts and colorful dot paintings. Meals are wholesome but hearty, without the fuss all too often confused with pampering at high-end resorts. It’s barefoot luxury, the Aussie way. The model, James Baillie had told me, was pioneered in high-end New Zealand lodges. “But we do it Australian style,” he added. “We want you to feel like you are staying with friends.” Guests tend to unwind and get to know each other, goosed along by the complimentary bar. Longitude 131 has a deep wine cellar, and, this far out in the middle of nowhere, friendships form, yarns are shared. We meet Matt and Diana Shuter, a young couple from Sydney, also celebrating their anniversary, and more. Matt’s mother and father met at Uluru, or on it. “My dad was a bit of a hippie driving around Australia with a friend in his VW Beetle,” he says. “My mom was on teacher exchange from the USA.” They met climbing Uluru 45 years ago. This is Matt’s first visit.

On a group hike around then through a spectacular gorge right into Many Heads, he admits a quandary. He is tempted to climb Uluru to where his parents met. His father had been taking pictures of Kata Tjuta at sunset, so the precise point should be pretty easy to locate. But he is wrestling with concerns of whether it would be disrespectful to the indigenous people or the spirit of the site. Such emotions are invariably stirred by the omnipresence of Uluru and Kata Tjuta. You feel power radiating from the ancient monuments, which shift in color as the sun moves across the sky, and the massive rocks turn from orange to red to rust-brown. A highlight comes another day with a sunset walk around Uluru. However impressive the mound appears from Longitude 131, close up you realize its true immensity. Uluru is taller than the Eiffel Tower. It’s 3.5 kilometers long, and 3.8 kilometers wide, with a circumference of 9.3 kilometers. The indigenous people say Uluru was created by the spirits, and each side tells a different story. These are conveyed in intricate paintings around Uluru, and locals believe that by touching the rock, they can communicate with those spirits in Dreamtime. Guide Caroline Haden-Smith walks us around, stopping at caves decorated with ancient paintings. As she points out markings, we learn the characterizations for spears, people and animals. At Kitchen Cave, with its high roof and airy breezes, a great place for preparing meals, she shows signs for children; here the grandparents and older generations would tell little ones the legends and lessons of the world, while their parents were off gathering plants. As Caroline grows more animated, the fading sun sends giant shadows on the rock walls, and I’m reminded of shadow puppets in Indonesia. She points out figures for snakes and frogs, and spirits, and the black color on the rock from thousands of years of cooking fires. My mind wanders, and in these parts, with all the art and history, it’s easy to feel you are slipping into Dreamtime.

It happens often at Uluru, which has exerted a magnetic pull on visitors for ages. This is the story I heard from artist Bruce Munro when I met him last year in Sydney. Like Matt’s mom, he had been an expat making his life in Australia. Back in 1992, he also had been living in Sydney with his then-girlfriend, now his wife. Before returning to England, they sold everything, bought a car and began seeing the sights. “I was a beach person, I had no real

interest in Uluru,” he confesses when we talk recently, after I’ve seen his installation. “But it completely blew me away. I was inspired by some kind of light force that came right out of the ground.” Bruce always sketched ideas in notepads, but this wouldn’t be filed away. “I kept coming back to this. I couldn’t get it out of my head.” Then, in 2003, he built the first model for Field of Light in his U.K. backyard, in what sounds eerily like Close Encounters of the Third Kind. It grew to include 15,000 lights. “Everyone thought I was mad. My wife asked where the money was coming from.” He estimates he spent A$125,000 on what seemed a crazy project. But it also began to spark interest with others. Soon, he was exhibiting versions of the installation around the world. Then, a call came from Australia. Voyages wanted to bring it to Uluru. Field of Light was coming home. Not that it was easy. “There were massive logistics, and planning,” Bruce recalls. The process took five years, including consultation with the Anangu, who typically reject development in this sacred site. But they seemed to empathize with his vision, Bruce says. Or, perhaps could tell he was possessed. “I told them this was a spiritual thing. They seemed to trust me.” Field of Light opened in 2016, and has proven so popular, it has been extended through 2020, becoming by far the longest exhibit of his career. More than 250,000 have viewed the wondrous display, mainly at sunset, when the solar-powered stems sway in the evening breeze, adding an eerie glow that spreads in the shadow of Uluru. Bruce advises that his creation is particularly powerful at sunrise. My last day, I decide to heed him, but the lights only are switched on at daybreak for special bookings. No problem, says Adrian at Longitude 131. He makes a call, and personally delivers me to the field. I’m all alone. And I’m so mesmerized as the bulbs sway and change color that I only realize the cold when the shivering makes it difficult to snap pictures. I stop. There is a supreme stillness, and I suddenly feel a welling of the spirits, connected to Dreamtime. It’s an overwhelming impression of righteousness and perfection. Then, I’m reminded that the Anangu have already put it in perspective. They call this spectacular place, Tili Wiru Tjuta Nyakutjaku. Meaning: “looking at lots of beautiful lights.” I later learn that Matt never did climb Uluru. My sense is just being near this mystical rock lights a spark inside you. Besides, from his origin story, he already had the spirit of the site in his soul.

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

Uluru

A visit to Australia’s Red Centre is sure to evoke an emotional response. There are now more ways than ever to commune with and pay proper respect to this sacred rock. Getting There Uluru is 470 kilometers by road from Alice Springs, the nearest city, which has the area’s major airport, as well as buses and trains to most parts of Australia. Or you can fly into the Ayers Rock Airport serving the small resort town of Yulara, about 20 minutes away, from which most resorts and tour companies include airport pickup in packages. Where to Stay Longitude 131 is the most exclusive property in the region, and the only one offering unobstructed views of Uluru from your balcony, and bed. longitude131.com.au; A$1,500 per person per night, including all food and drinks, plus a full package of touring; two-night minimum. Voyages, the company that operates most of the lodges and tourism around Uluru for the native Indigenous Land Corporation, has an extensive array of lodging options from camp sites and backpacker hostels, up to its own high-end option, Sails in the Desert. ayersrockresort.com.au; doubles from A$43 to A$800. Tour Guides Most hotel packages include tours but other options abound, from outfitters like Outback Tour Services (outbacktour services. com.au) and SEIT Outback Australia (seitoutbackaustralia. com.au). Voyages (ulurumeeting place.com.au) collates special tours highlighting traditional culture, with Indigenous guides— and also has a lengthy list of free activities that are open to all visitors. (ayersrockresort.com.au).

Activities One of my motivating factors in returning to Uluru was to see Bruce Munro’s ethereal Field of Light, which will be on display through 2020. ayersrockresort. com.au; tickets from A$42. Dining in the dunes is a must. With no competing light, or noise, nights in the Red Centre offer supreme solitude and a star-filled sky. Guides delineate the constellations in the Southern sky, and explain the fascinating native names and legends for the star groups. There are various options, but you should splurge not only for a better menu, but smaller, more intimate groups like the Sounds of Silence (three-course Bushinspired meal, canapés and sparkling wine from A$210), or top-end Tali Wiru (four-course dinner showcasing local delicacies and native ingredients, plus wine, from A$360) dining experiences. Book through your hotel or ayersrockresort.com.au. Helicopter flights offer spectacular overviews of Uluru and Kata Tjuta, at about A$150 for 30 minutes. Visit ayersrockresort. com.au or flyuluru.com.au for details. One recommended outfit is Professional Helicopter Services (phs.com.au). Camel tours evoke a sense of what it was like when the first non-native explorers trekked to Uluru. Ride a descendant of the camels imported from India and Afghanistan in the 1800s— 200,000 of them still roam wild in northern and western Oz. uluru cameltours.com.au; from A$80. Or go futuristic and glide around Uluru by Segway. ulurusegway tours.com.au; from A$129. — R.G.

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An orangutan in the Leuser Ecosystem, a reserve in the jungle of northern Sumatra.

Photographs by Stefan Ruiz

In a far-flung patch of forest in Indonesia, one of the planetâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s most endangered primates clings to a precarious existence. Saki Knafo travels to deepest Sumatra for a rare encounter with these wise, watchful

Keepers of the Jungle tr av el andleisure asia .comâ&#x20AC;&#x2020;/ september 2018

Long ago, there lived an ape. The ape had babies, and those babies grew up and had babies of their own, and over time their descendants drifted apart to the point that they could no longer be considered one type of ape, but five. All were highly intelligent, but one was smarter than the rest. With its gift of speech, this supersmart ape gave the others names: “gorilla,” “chimpanzee,” “bonobo” and “orangutan.” This intelligence, however, came at a cost. Though this talking ape was capable of creating wonders, it was also capable of destroying them. Among the wonders it destroyed were many of the forests in which the other apes lived. One such forest is on the Indonesian island of Sumatra, where members of a unique species of orangutan are clinging to what little remains of their native habitat. Last summer, feeling less confident than usual in the merits of my own species, I went to Sumatra myself, hoping to meet one of these survivors. My destination was the Leuser Ecosystem, a sprawl of jungle in the north of Sumatra, the westernmost of Indonesia’s more than 16,000 islands. Orangutans once lived throughout Southeast Asia, but today the only two surviving species are confined to the scattered remnants of rain forest on Sumatra and nearby Borneo. The Sumatran orangutans, almost all of the remaining 7,000 of them, live in the Leuser—a nominally protected stronghold of biological diversity that is growing smaller and less biologically diverse with each passing year. Logging, hunting and the illegal pet trade have all played a part in the orangutan’s demise, but the main culprit is the global demand for palm oil, a commodity often produced on deforested land. Conservationists warn that the Sumatran orangutan could become the first great ape to reach extinction, with the Borneo species following close behind. Meanwhile, the slashand-burn conversion of their habitat into palm plantations is helping fill the earth’s atmosphere with excess carbon, threatening the existence of us all. Travelers who don’t want to spend their vacations contemplating such truths may want to give Sumatra a miss. But those who want to see wild orangutans, and tigers, and flowers the size of truck tires, and

the vanishingly rare Sumatran rhino should make it a must. Although Sumatra’s tourism infrastructure is improving, this vast, wild, jungle-clad island remains much less developed than a place like Bali. For a certain kind of traveler, that’s precisely why it’s such an exciting place to go.

n my way to the Leuser I spent a night in Medan, the capital of North Sumatra province, before heading to the jungle the next day. Riding out of town, I found it hard to imagine that in less time than it takes to drive from New York City to Boston, I would arrive at the edge of one of the richest forests in Asia. Medan was a crush of people and motorbikes and trucks and endless rows of street stalls. We passed a purse vendor who had hung her wares from the sprawling limbs of a tree, prompting my travel companion, Stefan Ruiz, who took the photographs for this story, to make one of his trademark observations: “It’s literally a money tree.” Finally the traffic thinned and the city faded, and we were rumbling through the palm plantations, the tall, spare trees stretching as far as we could see in every direction. Palm oil is the most commonly used vegetable oil in the world, found in snacks, soaps, cosmetics and a good number of the other products on our shelves, and Indonesia produces more of it than any other country, accounting for about a third of the world’s supply. If there is a money tree in Indonesia, it is the oil palm. As we neared the forest, I asked our driver, Adi, who didn’t speak much English, if he had seen a lot of wildlife over the years. He started talking excitedly about something called a “mina,” which I assumed was a kind of monkey, or maybe a local word for orangutan. In fact, Mina was the name given by researchers to one particularly notorious orangutan. As a local would later put it, “she had mental problems.” There were rumors that Mina had bitten tourists. It turned out she had a troubled past: captured as a baby, she’d spent years in a cage. Eventually, she was rescued and brought to a rehabilitation center for orangutans in Bukit Lawang, a village on the outskirts of the Leuser rain forest. But by then, her time with humans had taken its toll. The Bohorok Rehabilitation Center closed in the 90s, but several of the orangutans that passed through it still live in the part of the jungle closest to the village, and so do their progeny, who tend to take after them. Considered “semi-wild,” they generally aren’t afraid of people, and

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

A traditional Batak house on Samosir Island, in Lake Toba. Left: Hiking in the Leuser Ecosystem. below: Wild orangutans in the Leuser forest.

some of the guides capitalize on this fearlessness, luring them closer to tourists with fried rice. Green Hill, a company that organizes jungle treks and runs the village guesthouse where we stayed, doesn’t go in for that kind of thing. Andrea Molyneaux, who manages Green Hill with her husband, is an Englishwoman with a master’s in primate conservation who did her fieldwork at Camp Leakey, on Borneo. The camp was established by the pioneering Lithuanian-Canadian conservationist Birutė Mary Galdikas, who is to orangutans what Jane Goodall is to chimps. Andrea’s motto is painted on a big sign out front: keep wildlife wild. For the most part, Bukit Lawang resembles the other towns in the region—humble concrete buildings with rusty corrugated metal roofs. But at its far end, the road gives way to a footpath that meanders through the trees, and if you follow the path along the river, past the shops selling orangutan T-shirts and orangutan carvings, you’ll find yourself in the hotel district, a sort of fantasy of an Indonesian village filled with guesthouses made with bamboo, jungle logs and branches. That night, Stefan and I slept in rustic rooms overlooking the jungle. The next day, we planned to march

One of the resorts on Samosir Island, a popular stop for visitors to Lake Toba.

The screeching ape demonstrates his mastery of simple tools by breaking off a stick and throwing it at you. Can you blame him?

right into that seething mass of green. We were to spend the morning close to the village looking for semi-wild orangutans, which we were practically guaranteed to see. Then our guides would take us deeper into the forest, to an area rarely visited by people where the foliage would be thicker, the trails rougher, and the wildlife truly wild. We planned to camp there for two nights. If we saw an orangutan in the deep forest, we’d be among the very few people who ever have. Early the next morning, as the sun rose above trees across the river, we went into the forest. Stefan and I were joined by our head guide, Anto Cebol, his assistant, Ipan, and a pair of college students from Colorado. Anto, a native of Bukit Lawang, is 38, with the long hair and philosophical outlook of someone who has been exposed from an early age to the beliefs and customs of stoned Australian backpackers. Sitting on a boulder, he said, “No one knows how much longer the earth will be.” He smiled defiantly. “Maybe we go to the moon.” We’d been following him for a few minutes when he pointed out a troop of black-mohawked Thomas’s leaf monkeys in the trees. Though we were still on easy, well-worn paths, sweat started pouring out of me at a rate I’d never

imagined possible. Then we saw it: our first orangutan. This was exciting, of course, that flash of orange in the trees, but she clearly wasn’t wild. She was stretched out on a limb, unafraid and unimpressed. Anto recognized her; he said he knew her mother. As we stood there staring, a long-tail macaque walked right past us, not even bothering to glance in our direction. Then a group of Homo sapiens approached in flip-flops, taking selfies. So by the time we got on the motorbikes and headed down the road toward a more remote area, I was ready to go a little deeper. After a bumpy ride through palm plantations, we arrived at Bukit Kencur, a hamlet on the edge of the part of the jungle that the Green Hill staff had described as untouched. It was clear that this place didn’t get many foreign visitors. Clusters of reddish palm fruit sat in the dirt outside the sun-bleached wooden huts. The villagers who came over to look at us didn’t attempt to speak English, and no one tried to sell us orangutan carvings or anything else. One of the villagers approached with a basket of supplies. His name was Chilik, and he was going to serve as an extra guide for the rest of our trip. His training, as I’d later learn, had been unconventional. Some years ago, he got lost in the forest while gathering medicinal plants and sustained himself for five days by watching the orangutans to see which fruits they ate. Chilik didn’t speak any English. Unlike Anto, he wore his hair short, and did not bother with the rubber trekking shoes worn by the guides in Bukit Lawang. He led us through the jungle barefoot, scraping leeches off his ankles with a rusty machete, and he carried most of our supplies on his back in a basket made from rattan vines, which the Bukit Lawang guides had long since abandoned for backpacks. During snack breaks, he would go off by himself and squat on the forest floor, chain-smoking until it was time to leave. That first day, we hiked only a short distance, maybe half a kilometer. Still, it was tough going, as the rest of the trip would be. The trail rose and fell at such a steep incline that we often had to grab at roots and vines just to stay upright. At times it disappeared completely, at which point Chilik would move to the front of the pack and hack a path through the bush with his machete. At last we came to the campsite. It sat on a slope overlooking a picturesque river. As we rinsed off in the cool, clear water, a pair of cooks showed up out of nowhere and built a fire. They boiled a pot of rice, fried some tempeh, sautéed a sackful of tapioca leaves, and whipped up a delicious dish of dried anchovies with wild ginger and chili. We slept beneath a tarp stretched over a frame of lashed-together bamboo poles. The soundscape was a layered mix of cicada, bird, stream and rain, with a smattering of monkey howls thrown in. We awoke early the next morning, at the first hint of daylight. Toast, eggs, strong Sumatran coffee, then back on the trail, pausing every 15 minutes so that Anto could pass out pieces of leaves and bark, schooling us on the names and medicinal or culinary uses of each species. There was the hot-pink flower of a tree he called assam kimchin. (A lemony herb;

goes well with curry). The woody stalk of pasak bumi. (Bitter; defends against malaria). The glossy leaf of the satykop bush. (Per Anto: “To make not broken the first baby when baby is still drinking from mama and mama pregnant.”) On we hiked, our eyes lifted to the treetops, when suddenly Anto saw something that made him break into a sprint. “Mawa!” he shouted, crashing through the foliage. “Lucky!” Mawa, I knew by then, means orangutan. Seeing a truly wild orangutan does feel different from seeing one that has grown up around humans. You see in his eyes that he is frightened, and in his innocence and awe, he reminds you of a child. You feel a rush of nostalgia for your own childhood, when all the world felt like this corner of the forest, mysterious and full of wonder. At the same time, you can’t help suspecting you feel this way primarily because you come from a developed economy, where you and your compatriots, having benefited from centuries of environmentally destructive agricultural and industrial practices, have forgotten the hardships of forest life. This is one of the reasons you can afford to look back at that bygone existence through a romantic lens, much in the way you can afford to romanticize your childhood only after the pain of growing up has receded. You think these things, and you wonder what the orangutan is thinking. And then the screeching ape demonstrates his mastery of simple tools by breaking off a stick and throwing it at you. Knowing what you know about humans, can you blame him? Eventually the orangutan calmed down and just hung there from the branches staring back at us. Then we heard a rustling of leaves a little way off. “Another one!” Anto cried. Two, in fact—a mother and baby. So that’s why the first one hadn’t fled at the sight of us: he was protecting his family. The mom and baby were moving slowly through the treetops, not leaping like monkeys but plotting a careful course, shifting their weight from foot to foot, and hand to hand.

y last few days in North Sumatra unfolded at a rambling hotel on the shore of Lake Toba, eight hours southeast of Bukit Lawang. At 700 square kilometers—about the size of Singapore—Lake Toba is the largest volcanic lake in the world, and maybe the nicest. The water is sparkling and calm. Soft green mountains rise all around it. The hotel, Carolina Cottages, is a collection of bungalows with sharply peaked roofs and ornately carved

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

september 2018 / tr av el andleisure asia .com

sumatra

Medan Gunung Leuser National Park

Indonesia

Bukit Lawang La k a ob eT

wooden façades, a tribute to the traditional local building style. A breeze blew onto the hotel veranda, ruffling the edges of the batik tablecloths. On the beaches, the Coke came in glass bottles and the coconuts came with straws. At the center of the lake lies Samosir Island, the heartland of the Batak, an indigenous group known for their love of singing. One night, we partied with a crowd of Batak schoolteachers on their summer break. They fed us boiled eggs with chili paste and passed out cups of herbal liquor and brought out a guitar and sang for us and begged us to dance with them and laughed hysterically when we did. Even Stefan, who has been everywhere and isn’t easily impressed, conceded that one of the guests had a solid case when he called Lake Toba “heaven on this earth.” On my way back to Medan, as I boarded a ferry headed across the lake, a stranger handed me a pocket map. He turned out to be a mapmaker from Java who had traveled all over Indonesia for his work. He told me Toba held a special place in his heart. For years, he said, the Indonesian government had done too little to develop the tourism industry in this provincial outpost, but that was beginning to change. An airport had been built nearby, and there were plans to extend the highway from Medan to the lake. “We want people to know the story of Toba,” he said. The story of Toba is one worth knowing. The massive volcanic eruption that created the lake some 70,000 years ago nearly wiped out the entire human species—and may have made us who we are today. According to the “Toba catastrophe theory,” originally posited by the science writer Ann Gibbons, the blast plunged the earth into a six-year winter, leaving as few as 3,000 people alive on the planet. Those survivors were the most resourceful of our kind, and they passed on those qualities to their descendants, our ancestors, planting the seeds of human civilization. It was perhaps because of Toba that our ancestors learned to make fire, and grow crops, and cure diseases, and come up with clever theories about human civilization. And it was perhaps because of Toba that we learned to clear forests, and developed a habit of wiping other species off the face of the earth. As the ferry pulled into the dock, I said goodbye to the mapmaker and hauled my bags to the driver waiting onshore. Then we began the journey back to Medan, with its truckclogged streets, passing palm plantations where there used to be forest. With luck, you’ll get to visit one of the forests that remain. If you do, keep your eyes raised to the treetops. You might see someone you used to know.

Plan an adventure in sumatra

This unsung Indonesian island boasts extraordinary natural riches. A visit here will definitely bring out the save-the-planet do-gooder in you. Stick with responsible-travel guides and, you know, please don't feed the animals.

Getting There & Around Fly to Kualanamu International Airport in Medan. The best way to reach Gunung Leuser National Park and Lake Toba is to hire a car and driver (your hotel can easily make arrangements). Although Sumatra’s tourism infrastructure is getting better, most roads remain rough and crowded, so expect to spend a day traveling to each destination. Medan Indonesia’s fourthlargest city is a gateway to the natural attractions of North Sumatra. I arrived after dark and set out for the jungle the next morning, skipping such sights as Our Lady of Velangkanni (velang kanni.com), an IndoMughal-style church, and the museum at Maimun Palace (66 Jln. Sultan Ma’moen Al Rasyid; 62-61/452-4244). I did stick around my hotel, Aryaduta Medan (aryaduta.com; doubles from Rp1,275,000), to sample a grand breakfast spread of American, Chinese

and Indonesian food. Another comfortable option is the JW Marriott (marriott. com; doubles from Rp833,000), with a lovely rooftop pool. Bukit Lawang This riverside town at the entrance to Gunung Leuser National Park (gunungleuser.or.id) is where most orangutan treks start. I stayed at Green Hill (greenhillbukitlawang. com; doubles from Rp100,000; packages from Rp3,500,000 for two people for three days), a guesthouse where the staff arranges trips into the jungle. For optimum orangutan sightings, those willing to rough it should consider booking a threeor four-day trek. Lake Toba After an eight-hour drive from Bukit Lawang, I took a ferry to Samosir Island in the middle of the lake. Lodging at Carolina Cottages (carolinacottages.com; doubles from Rp125,000) was basic but comfortable. For more upscale, try the Taman Simalem

Resort (taman simalem.com; doubles from Rp2,500,000), a group of lodges and private villas overlooking the lake. I recommend a visit to the Huta Bolon Simanindo (Jalan Pelabuhan Simanindo, Samosir Island; 62- 813/96721133), a preserved historic village of traditional wooden houses. Tour Operator ATJ’s Jarrod Hobson is known in the industry as “the Indonesia guy” and is a long-standing presence on T+L’s A-List of top travel advisors. He can create custom itineraries that combine Sumatra with other islands, such as Java and Bali. atj.com; from US$350 per person per day. What to pack You’ll need a powerful insect repellent, sunscreen with a high SPF, a headlamp, a waterproof wallet for your passport and papers, tough hiking boots, and light, longsleeved shirts and long pants. — S.K.

A Marquesan horse underneath the large leaves of a breadfruit tree. Opposite: Vaitahu Bay, off the island of Tahuata.

Photographs by J u l i e n G i r a r d o t

The Middle of Nowhere

Far out in the Pacific Ocean sits a small island chain whose idyllic aesthetic derives from being the antithesis of your clichéd tropical beach paradise. Tired of slumming it on well-trod, white-sand, five-star beaches, Noah Hunt takes two days and four planes to the Marquesas of Gauguin’s dreams and finds no reason to complain. tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

Mysterious, worn tiki. left: Flying the flag. below: Festival day on the islands.

here are 64 types of mango on the island of Hiva Oa, all introduced,” says Henri, my Marquesan guide, tossing a small fleshy plum-sized fruit across the hood of his 4X4. It is tennis-ball green, blushed with peach. I bring it to my face and the smell is intoxicating, like magnolia, apple pie and kaffir lime leaves. I bite into it. The taste is equally awakening, and suddenly the inside of my mouth feels like the host of what will become a wild party. Cue the Bollywood dancers and release the conga line. Henri watches as my normal resting bitch face slow-morphs into a wide smile as the tastes penetrate deeper, his own smile mirroring mine with a look of island pride. Henri and I both know that mangoes originally come from India. And that they’re prized in Latin America and Asia. But mangoes here in these far flung, impossibly mystical and sun-drenched Marquesas Islands are not just fruits—they’re revelations. Each one pregnant with the possibility of changing your mood. Each one a Proustian delight kickstarting a rush hour in your brain’s dopamine pathways. Who could be in a bad mood in the Marquesas? The late Flemish songwriter Jacques Brel, a friend of Henri’s grandfather, once wrote, “Complaining is inappropriate in the Marquesas,” succinctly summing up the paradisiacal vibe of these 15 (six of them inhabited) green, mountainous specks of Pacific real estate. The islands have been promising and delivering a rarefied exoticism to voyagers since they were first occupied by Polynesians around A.D. 1000, and according to some much earlier. And after my five near-perfect days seeking out the mysterious, fern-cloaked tiki believed by many scholars to have originated here, listening to colorful exotic bird calls harmonize with gently lapping waves, and eating edifying bowls of poisson cru—raw, cherry-red tuna soaked in lime juice and coconut milk so fresh the machete blade is still wet—it’s understandable why whining here is taboo.

For me, and for the Marquesas’ iconic visitors like Robert Louis Stevenson, Herman Melville and French painter Paul Gauguin, the country is the edenic antithesis of everything that was wrong about the real world. Here on Te Henua Kenana, the Marquesan name of the islands that translates to The Land of Men, individual property cannot be owned, and there’s a bounty of fruit and fish for everyone, not to mention a never-ending supply of mana, the sacred energy unique to Polynesia. After all, these islands are home to a seafaring and tiki heritage dating back 1,000-plus years. And they’re farther from any continental landmass than any other islands on Earth. Mexico’s west coast—4,800 kilometers away—is the closest. Paradise can become parched and ragged on these volcanic, isolated islands, which are nothing like their sister Society Islands, Bora Bora and Tahiti. There are no dreamy atolls, no overwater bungalows. Except for a new Lindblad Expeditions sailing that launched earlier this year, there are no mega-cruise ship crowds. The water itself—less placid, more Curaçao blue than gin-clear—is deeper, both in measurement and color, so the islands are not known for snorkeling reef visibility or glassy stand-up paddleboarding conditions. Obviously, they’re not close enough to any major city (or continent) for easy weekend getaways, nor are they upscale enough for honeymooners looking to splurge on over-the-top luxuries. Depending on who you are, this is either a godsend or a disappointment. I found The Land of Men a gift from the heavens because they don’t suffer from the modern trappings and crowds seen at easier-toaccess destinations. But also because for decades I’ve been intrigued by the rich birdlife, with 10 endemics and more than 200 other native species of flora and fauna, as well as by the tiki and tattoo cultures and the endangered language. French Polynesian cuisine is an earthy fusion. And those languorous and louche florescent green paintings from Gauguin didn’t hurt either. All of this lived up to its promise. But there was so much more.

he Marquesas were named by Spanish Explorer Álvaro de Mendaña in 1595 for his patron, the Marqués de Cañete. Shortly after they adopted their European moniker, they fell into despair, almost like a curse. Their population plummeted a shocking 98 percent from 100,000 people in 1799 to 2,000 in 1926, mostly as a result of weapons, disease and alcoholism, brought on first by Spanish conquistadors and missionaries and finished off by waves of 19th-century whalers. The tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

If the Marquesas were an Instagram user, I’d unfollow. Surely this was fake news

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A Marquesan warrior dressed to intimidate. Opposite: The islands here offer a soft green but rocky landscape.

population never fully recovered and the islands’ 8,600 residents still struggle with drought, isolation and a crippling lack of infrastructure. Some say that without the subsidies from France, the islands would completely collapse again. One thing that hasn’t changed since Gauguin and Melville’s time is that getting to the Marquesas is extremely difficult. For me, it was an epic four flights, including 48-plus hours of travel time, and an entire calendar day missed by crossing the dateline. On my third leg, LAX to Pape’ete, I spent eight hours flying over nothing but Pacific, an infinity of silver ridges bleeding into blue bleeding into green again. I savored the monumental journey from my leather Air Tahiti Nui flatbed. With a cold, oaky French Chardonnay at my side and a rom-com on the flat-screen, I daydreamed about the hardships encountered by generations of Polynesians who made similarly epic Pacific voyages 10,000 meters below me. Nodding off, I laughed to myself at the absurdity of in any way comparing my time in this turquoise and banana-leaf festooned business-class cabin en route to a known terminus with my predecessors’ perilous, intrepid, interminable explorations of the legendary Polynesian Triangle upon handmade wooden water crafts. Sorry, Moana! After a connection in Pape’ete, I was finally Marquesas-bound, though it was still another three hours within what is technically the same country despite the vast nothingness in between. On that final leg, I perused Melville’s 1846 account of the Marquesas in Typee. Melville’s anticipatory idea of the islands was surprisingly similar to mine and reads like a pro/con list written by a marketing rep of Marquesas Tourism: “The Marquesas! Naked houris—cannibal banquets—groves of cocoanut—coral reefs—tattooed chiefs—and bamboo temples; sunny valleys planted with bread-fruit-trees—carved canoes dancing on the flashing blue waters—savage woodlands guarded by horrible idols—heathenish rites and human sacrifices.” Fortunately, Marquesans gave up their love of human flesh, so I felt no trepidation about arriving in Nuku Hiva, the largest island in the region. This wasn’t the case for Melville, who after spending six months at sea and finally docking on Nuku Hiva, promptly jumped ship from the Acushnet, and escaped to the woods for the summer of 1842—and almost became a Marquesan main course. I glanced down at what appeared to be a scattering of chicken cutlets floating in antifreeze. From above, the Marquesas look completely artificial. The colors are so bright and otherworldly, it felt like a

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screensaver stock image that’d been manipulated with filters. If the Marquesas were an Instagram user, I’d unfollow. Surely this was fake news. But as we approached, the landscape came into focus and suddenly we were flying past emerald mountains topped with hoodoo (fairy chimneys), cliff pinnacles and animalistic spires of gray rock protruding from soft green forests into sky and rocky fingers resembling narrow alligator heads jutting into the ocean. It was lush, but pocked with large arid patches. And suddenly, a tiny airstrip atop a plateau materialized out of nowhere. Five minutes after landing, rain started pouring out of steely clouds that also materialized out of nowhere, turning the Technicolor into black-and-white. As if my journey hadn’t been long enough already, it was a 90-minute ride from the airport to the island’s main village Taiohae, said to be one of the world’s most scenic drives, with panoramic vistas of the lush Toovii Plateau (the Marquesas’ Grand Canyon) so sweeping you’ll want to pre-delete your iPhone photos to make space. One travel blogger wrote “Pray there’s no fog because if there is, you’re totally missing out!” So of course there was fog. Thick fog. For the duration of the drive around the seatbelt-locking loops and switchbacks of the island’s one road, which was only sealed over in the 1990s, we didn’t see another person or sign of human activity. Nuku Hiva may as well have been Neptune. Finally, we reached the Keikahanui Pearl Lodge and were greeted by the receptionist, a cheerful rae rae, (men who identify as women and often run hotel receptions). Twenty breezy, thatched bungalows snaked around a brushy hillside, each fitted with tapa-cloth art made from breadfruit tree bark, and king-sized beds scattered with hibiscus flowers. I moved to my spacious deck to make sure my view of Taiohae Bay was real. My bungalow, No. 10, was a fiveminute walk up a steep pathway lined with candlenut and noni trees, alive with zebra doves, tropic birds and endemic Marquesan swiftlets. It was worth the walk for its better sea views and proximity to waves rhythmically lapping the empty beaches below, but was an annoying schlep when I needed to access the lobby-only Wi-Fi. After a lunch of smoked Marquesan fish salad with Espelette pepper, I rode to town on the hotel’s complimentary bike, barreling down the steep dirt road the lodge sits atop, before cruising into town. The flat, breezy, ocean-side ride was superbly beautiful, with the afternoon sun igniting the fluorescent green landscape around me. I watched wild horses on the beach, browsed jars of amber Marquesan honey and

Taking in a dance performance.

Below from left:

Marquesan manta rays draw divers; local wood carving.

Headed for the high ground on Nuku Hiva.

wood carvings at the port’s somewhat dour artisan market and meandered through the modernist stone and rosewood church. Like torii in Japan and totem in indigenous Pacific Northwest cultures, tiki—human-like statues carved from stone or wood—indicate sacred places and can be as large as the iconic mo‘ai of Easter Island or small as a foot stool. These Polynesian treasures are found everywhere, including Temehea Tohua, the grassy ceremonial grounds and ancestral home of Queen Vaekehu, Taiohae’s last chieftainess. The plaza’s moss-covered stone figurines are rendered intricately to showcase the Marquesas’ prized carving techniques, but were modern interpretations of ancient tiki. Next door was a cemetery marked with white crosses. It was here Melville jumped ship and fled to the Taipivai.

ully adjusted to islandtime, I lingered the next morning over a breakfast of guava juice, crepes with banana confiture, and flaky croissants stuffed with papaya before departing for my next isle, Hiva Oa. The 45-minute flight gave me just enough time for a cup of pineapple juice and a few Jacques Brel tracks, who was buried on Hiva Oa in 1978 next to Paul Gauguin, who died of syphilis there in 1903. All domestic Air Tahiti flights board from the rear and

feature open seating. While boarding, I asked the attendant which side of the plane offered better photographs. She smiled and unbuckled a safety belt for me that was blocking off a particularly choice, behind-the-propeller seat on the right rear. While making our descent, the crew announced that electronic devices were not permitted until after landing, but I simply couldn’t stop photographing it. All the Marquesas Islands were photogenic from above, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Hiva Oa. It had the exact same shades of arresting florescent green that Gauguin captured in his paintings, with nary an arid pocket in sight. Suddenly, I heard electronic snaps behind me. Both flight attendants were furiously snapping photos of the island. Like Melville and Gauguin, even the locals were compelled by the islands’ magnetism to break the rules. In the South Pacific, it’s hard to understand one island’s assets until you’ve fully experienced a second one’s. Contrast is everything here and the love of one island can make you like the previous one slightly less. Such was the case with Hiva Oa, which is everything Nuku Hiva is not. Located in the North Marquesas, it is cooler, lusher, older and more fertile, and offers that rare, perfectly-off-the-traveler’s-radar vibe that is increasingly hard to come by these days. It’s also the Marquesan point of entry for visitors

arriving from Galapagos by yacht on transpacific sailings, so unlike Nuku Hiva, which at times felt distant and cash-strapped, Hiva Oa retains an arty, intrepid and warm affluent vibe. The owners of both the Keikahanui Pearl earlier and Hanakee Pearl here, Jean-Jacques and his glamorous ParisianMarquesan wife Josephine, greeted me and a few other guests at the airport with fragrant leis. Exact replicas of the Nuku Hiva villas, the property’s 14 bungalows stretch across a ridge overlooking Tahauku Bay and with terraces offering views of the island of Hanakee, which floats on the horizon absorbing sunlight and manna like a sponge. I wandered the town of Atuona’s shops, juice vendors, and artisan markets run by cheery and chatty locals selling hand-dyed handkerchiefs and carved and painted tagua nuts (as opposed to Nuku Hiva’s artisans who scowled when I didn’t buy anything). I popped into the Gauguin Museum to peruse the hundreds of replicas they arranged in a sprawling gallery on the site where he lived and died. It’s right next door to the Jacques Brel museum, a slightly eerie airplane hangar that houses his beloved twinprop Jojo plane and pipes in his music. And I admired the birds and flowers from my hotel’s spacious balcony—which did have Wi-Fi, but which I gloriously no longer craved in my new Island Time state of mind.

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Don't go to this far-flung archipelago looking for luxury. A trip to these lush lands is about communing with both nature and an ancient, endangered culture.

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mexico 4,800 km

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The next morning I planned to visit the island’s famous smiling stone tiki, the only tiki that wears such an expression. I met Henri, built like a rugby player—fierce but full of jokes. He told me he spent time in the military in France, and spoke French, English, and some German, Japanese and Chinese. “But my native language is Marquesan, an endangered species,” he said. Different from Tahitian, it’s only spoken by the island’s remaining 8,600 people, a reminder of what was once lost from this great Pacific society. And a warning of what else could go missing in the future. The smiling tiki is hidden deep in the woods on an unmarked dirt road. We passed a gate and walked down a path under giant ferns and banyan trees in the greenest woods I’d ever seen. “There!” he pointed. In a shaft of filtered forest light sat a moss-covered stone carving that looked more like a Minions character than a tiki—the 93-centimeter-tall, oval-shaped creature had carvings said to represent tattoos, which also have origins in the Marquesas, and a look that could only be described as a shit-eating grin. It was 700 years old. “Tiki sculptures represent Ti’i, a half-human half-god ancestor,” Henri continued. “The missionaries destroyed many tiki,” he said plainly. “There are 151 known tiki today, but we think there are at least 600 more waiting to be discovered.” Then he clarified: “Re-discovered.”

Getting There There are no direct flights to the Marquesas. Air Tahiti Nui (airtahitinui. com), French Polynesia’s international carrier, flies nonstop to Pape’ete from Tokyo, Auckland, Paris and Los Angeles. The airline’s domestic carrier, Air Tahiti (airtahiti.com), flies nonstop from Pape’ete to Nuku Hiva and weekly to Hiva Oa— though the latter flights are frequently canceled. On your inbound journey, grab a seat on the right side of the plane. For visa rules, check tahititourisme.com/ en-us/travel-planner/ tahiti-visa-requirements.

Where to Stay Keikahanui Pearl Lodge on the island of Nuku Hiva has 20 thatched bungalows that wrap around a brushy hillside. Its sister property, Hanakee Pearl on Hiva Oa, has 14 identical bungalows. pearlodge.com; doubles at both from US$250. Cruise Lindblad Expeditions launched cruises to the Marquesas earlier this year from Pape’ete, and will resume tours there in May and September 2019. lindblad.com; 17-day cruise from US$15,680.

tr av el andleisure asia .com / september 2018

Salted forest mushroom and fern pastry at Restorans 3, a contemporary bistro in the heart of Riga, the capital of Latvia. Opposite: A view of Riga from St. Peter’s Church, which dates back to the 13th century.

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This Eastern European country is finally emerging from the shadow of Soviet ruleâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;and embracing change and experimentation. On a romantic visit to Riga, its thriving capital, and the bucolic countryside, Boris Fishman uncovers a destination rich in experiences and ripe with promise. Photogr aphed by FELIX ODELL

tr av el andleisure asia .comâ&#x20AC;&#x2020;/ september 2018

A ten-minute pause before the main course?” asked our server, Alex. He startled me. back in the United states, I’d never been invited to take more time. My girlfriend, Jessica, and I were already an hour and a half into dinner at 3 Pavaru, a modern restaurant tucked away in a former military barracks in the Old Town of Riga, the capital of Latvia. Our meal had begun with a half-dozen sauces—including smoked apple, sea buckthorn and hempseed oil—and flakes of dried honeycomb painted directly onto our place mats and served with bread for dipping, a maneuver that should have felt pretentious, but didn’t. Then came three hillocks of local ostrich tartare, served with a duck egg and lingonberry-beer foam. We had meant to order a bottle of wine from the long, careful list, but Alex kept us busy with a local cider platonically suspended between sweet and dry. After the pause, we got duck-breast powder and translucent crisps of pig ear over pork belly pearl barley and quince sabayon; smoked whole-milk cheese in wild garlic sauce; and feta over black quinoa and japonica quince. And then dessert: black-sesame ice cream, burnt caramel and a cream of citrus-spiked white chocolate accompanied by a chip of fermented garlic and several sponge cakes that tasted deeply of, well, onion. Improbably, it was magnificent. “Anna couldn’t sleep for a few nights,” said Alex, pointing to Anna Loča, the dessert chef. She waved shyly. “When she finally fell asleep, that’s what she dreamed of.” By now, despite all the culinary rigor before us, the restaurant had transformed into

something like a dinner party in a private home. Alex was trying to open a bottle of cider with a huge chef’s knife. Another server was experimenting with liquid nitrogen, puffs of which periodically blew into the dining room. It was difficult to imagine this happening in New York City, where it would come with an intense amount of forethought and self-consciousness. It was 11:30 p.m. when Jessica and I finally walked out. “That may have been the most spontaneous and intimate meal of my life,” she said. We also understood why Loča might have had trouble falling asleep: there was still light in the sky. In late June in Latvia, the sun goes away for less time than it takes to have dinner. I wasn’t supposed to be here. As a boy in Soviet Belarus, little seemed more exotic than Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, the Baltic republics at the western edge of the Soviet empire. Unwilling conscripts into the Soviet system, with northern European rather than Slavic roots, the Baltics always carried a whiff of the West. My family and I went there for vacation and better-made things, like my school uniforms, which were sewn in Lithuania. I knew that after independence in 1991, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania had lost no time re-modernizing. Only two hours from Helsinki by ferry, Tallinn, the Estonian capital, had even landed on cruise itineraries. But I’d spent enough time in the former U.S.S.R. I wanted to see the rest of the world. Then, in the fall of 2016, I visited Latvia and Estonia on a cultural mission for the U.S. State Department. I’d heard so much about Tallinn that it took me several days to admit that its vaunted medieval center felt like a theme park, with clusters of Finns who’d come to party, swinging steins and bellowing tunelessly outside the bars. Meanwhile, a step outside Old Town brought me into an unreconstructed gray Soviet past. Riga seemed the opposite: its Old Town was gorgeous and largely unpackaged, with real people living in it, framed by a lovely Art Nouveau central district. If Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania, was still refining its style, and Tallinn had rushed and succumbed, Riga was in a sweet spot. Large enough to feel cosmopolitan, but compact enough to be walkable, it had world-class design, food and lodging at half the cost of Western Europe; an English-speaking population eager to try new things; and a singular combination of outside influences (Nordic, Slavic, Germanic). This charm did not end at the city limits. The size of West Virginia, with a population smaller than Brooklyn’s, Latvia has an exceptionally fertile countryside whose lakes, rivers and forests have supplied seasonal treasure for centuries: sorrel, chanterelles, cloudberries, zander, roe deer. It’s also where traditional Latvian culture retreated for safekeeping during the Soviet occupation. And Riga is largely without traffic, so you can find yourself flitting past pines and birches in 20 minutes. Late one night during my 2016 visit, I strolled past the canal that wends between Old Town and the central district. Night kayakers were splitting the water, and, despite the October chill, multigenerational gatherings filled the lit-up outdoor cafés lining the banks. Old Town sparkled quietly behind me. A boy was trying very hard on a wooden xylophone, his older brother whispering encouragements from the curb. When I threw a euro into the boy’s hat, he lit up so hard he forgot to keep playing. Since leaving the Soviet Union for New York in 1988, I’d been looking for a way to reconnect with my past, without success. Belarus remained Soviet in all but name, but I wasn’t Soviet any more. Moscow had become Western in many ways, many less than savory. I’d more or less given up. As I stood in front of that boy, it

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Clockwise from top left: The new building for the National Library of Latvia, designed by Latvian-born American architect Gunnar Birkerts, in the heart of Riga; the Annas Hotel, in the village of Annas, a property with a spa, a sauna and 10 spacious suites; the Woodcraft Museum, set in Vienkoču Park, where visitors can learn about the craft of woodworking from the Stone Age to the present day; Artūrs Trinkuns, a chef at Riga’s 3 Pavaru; a boat on Riga’s City Canal, a former moat that was once used to protect the center of the city from invaders; the dining room of the Hotel Bergs, a 37-room property in the heart of the Art Nouveau district; the library at the Latvian National Museum of Art, in Riga; a vintage telephone at the Corner House, the Soviet-era KGB headquarters that visitors can tour.

Jacob Dimiters, a carpenter and the founder of the Northmen, an artisans’ guild that produces axes, bows and watches, with his family at their home in the Latvian countryside between the towns of Sigulda and Cesis.

occurred to me that I was feeling the right angle in Riga: Slavic enough, Western enough, but unglobalized and uncopied. Latvia’s sweet spot was mine, too. I made plans to return, this time with Jessica. I wanted to see what an American would make of it. She’d never been east or north of Berlin. Maris Laipenieks from California wanted to talk. We were having breakfast in the plush but sleek dining room of the Hotel Bergs, a contemporary property just outside Old Town. Laipenieks’s family had left Latvia in 1942, when he was two, and he was returning after more than 70 years abroad. He had brought his sons, and their sons, and his mother’s ashes. Four generations. He was excited, nervous, and slack-jawed. “I can’t believe…” he started saying, and just swept his hand toward the window. While Jessica heroically busied herself with a massage, I went back to 3 Pavaru to talk to Eriks Dreibants, one of the chefs. “After independence, we were all deep in exotica,” Dreibants said as we shared a plate of pinecone jam, prepared much like any other jam, only with edible pinecones playing the role of fruit. “We had kangaroo tails, antelope. Then we had fusion. Fusion confusion! Ratatouille and shrimp with…Japanese sauce! And then we thought, Enough.” Dreibants and several other chefs composed a manifesto, which said, among other things: “It is time to think about biologically clean products, especially from Latvia.” 3 Pavaru was the flagship incarnation of these ideas. (A sister restaurant exploring them further, Restorans 3, opened in 2015. It offers a more formal though equally delectable tasting menu. An upstairs dining room simulates the sounds and visuals of a forest.) Some of these ideas may seem familiar from the New Nordic craze. But there’s a critical difference in Latvia. No one is looking to conquer the world or become an Instagram star. Shortly before my visit, one of Dreibants’s partners had told an interviewer that he wished the

Michelin Guide would stay out of Riga. “This isn’t René Redzepi,” Dreibants explained. “It’s a family business. We won’t go bankrupt because of a bad review, and we’re open to experiment and mistake without our hands shaking.” The same might be said of the country’s arts scene. “The more you experience what’s out there, the more you realize that the only unique thing you have is your own culture,” Andris Rubins, a managing partner at a prominent advertising agency, told me when we met for coffee and pastries at Café Osiris, an assembly point for Riga’s creative elite. I had asked him to explain the focus on homegrown production at the galleries and boutiques I had been visiting, such as Art Gallery Putti, which focuses on avant-garde jewelry by Latvian designers, and Pienene, which highlights beauty products derived from local flora. “We have lots of history and tradition here,” he said. “But also a clean slate.” He didn’t have to point out how many of Latvia’s neighbors in Western Europe could offer only the former, and how many others in Eastern Europe were as concerned with nationalism as economic innovation. “A friend in London said Riga is London thirty years ago,” Lolita Tomsone, the director of the Žaņis Lipke Memorial museum, told me. (Lipke, a dockworker, became a national hero after he ferried Jews to safety during World War II.) “Not because of the culture, but because of the opportunity.”

It’s an especially promising moment. This year, Latvia will celebrate the centennial of its independence from the Russian Empire, and through October Riga is hosting its first International Biennial of Contemporary Art. When I was there, Jelena Ostapenko had just won the French Open, becoming the first Latvian to capture a Grand Slam. Thousands had watched on an outdoor screen at the foot of the Freedom Monument in central Riga, a 1930s memorial honoring soldiers who died in the war of independence. The location was not accidental. During the Soviet occupation, the monument was a rallying point. That history lives on. The building that once held the local KGB headquarters, the Corner House, is now a harrowing and moving museum several blocks up Freedom Street. It’s the site of regular tours through interrogation rooms, prison cells and execution chambers left largely unchanged since Soviet times. Riga remains almost evenly divided between Latvians and ethnic Russians, which makes a visit both surreal and poignant: surreal because Eriks Dreibants is making foam out of lingonberry beer just over there, poignant because the previously occupied are managing to live in peace alongside their former occupiers, with equal pride in their hometown, despite the uncertainty brought on by Russia’s recent efforts to destabilize former Soviet republics. The young people who fled Latvia during the 1990s are returning to help transform the country with ideas from abroad. Tomsone, the museum director, left in 1999 to pursue Jewish studies in Israel. “I went from a very reserved culture to a very confrontational one,” she said. “But that came with a lot of responsibility for each other, irreverence toward authority.” We were in Pagalms, a café and bar with twentysomethings whiling away a sunny afternoon over duck breast and cherry cider. The Latvian aesthetic is so distinctive—something Nordic and lean, something Weimar and lush—that even a board listing bathroomcleaning times seemed like it belonged in a design boutique. Tomsone returned to Latvia in 2013. She didn’t have to wait long for a cause. The Ministry of Health proposed a law that would allow a woman to donate eggs only after having given birth to a child. “So I organized a demonstration,” she said. “I got a hundred phone calls: ‘How could you do that?!’ But we succeeded. The minister of health was fired the following week. Then I got a hundred more phone calls asking: ‘How do I organize a demonstration?’ ” After our three days in Riga, it was time to make like proper capital dwellers, who often escape the city on the weekends. Before we left, I had coffee with Mike Collier, a British writer and

Riga is almost evenly divided between Latvians and ethnic Russians, which makes it both surreal and poignant—the previously occupied living in peace with their former occupiers

journalist who moved to Latvia 11 years ago and makes his home deep in the countryside. He told me to expect a different kind of serenity. “If the Latvian tourism board could box up peace and quiet, they’d make a fortune,” he said. “You can walk those forests all day without meeting one person.” The taxi to the Annas Hotel, an hour and a half into the woods in the village of Annas, cost all of €64. Eventually, the butter-smooth highways gave way to gravel. We passed so many lovingly tended but modest wooden country homes that when the hotel finally appeared out of nowhere, Jessica and I both laughed in disbelief. An elegant manor, the Annas has landscaped grounds, a spa complex and a space in the parking lot to accommodate helicopters. We had arrived late, and plates of trout salad and smoked meats and cheese awaited us, accompanied by triangles of dense, sweet focaccia. The next morning, I went to see Jacob Dimiters, a carpenter and leatherworker who recently organized local artisans into a guild called Northmen. They produce axes forgewelded in the Viking way, bows with horse-tail strings, and watches made with bog-harvested 7,000-year-old oak. (The bogs preserve the oak so well that seeds Dimiters discovered in one hollow sprouted a new tree when exposed to light.) The axes retail for up to nearly €2,000, and the waiting list, primarily from the United States, is four years long. Dimiters was working as a film editor in Riga when he remembered a childhood wish to build a home from scratch using only hand tools. “When you sit in front of a computer, you can’t touch your work,” he said. “My question was, ‘What can you do with only your hands? How strong were our ancestors?’ Because I think we’re becoming weaker and weaker.” A local carpenter got him started, and his mistakes taught him the rest. The guild idea came next. On another part of his property, he’s constructing a workshop that will include a public showroom for its wares and philosophy. When I visited, he was preparing to host the guild’s first apprentice class, a 10-day timber-framing and logbuilding course in the barn of a nearby manor house, complete with three organic meals a day. “We live in a throwaway society,” he said. “The aim is to make things that will outlast us. A carpenter transforms nature into culture.” Jessica and I had been late checking in to the Annas because we had stopped at Brūveri, near the town of Sigulda, for a pirts, the Latvian version of the steam bath that I’d

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grown up with in Belarus. I had been going with my father since before I could walk, but in Latvia the experience comes with a dose of the pagan. First, the private sauna attendant, a demonically handsome man with ice-white hair, cerulean eyes, and not one but two chin dimples, plied us with tea from local herbs and honey to open “half the pores.” (“The rest are inside you,” he said.) Then he began to discuss astral fields. A staticky radio behind him was blaring “One Way Ticket” by the 70s disco stars Eruption. “If the astral field is open…” he began, the blue pools of his eyes gleaming as his face spread into an ambiguous smile. “How do I open mine?” I asked him, a little too eagerly. “That’s why we’re here today,” he said. He studied me. “Don’t worry, I don’t get a heavy feeling from you.” I brightened, feeling like a psychologist had told me there wasn’t much to discuss. But then he added: “Some people fake it, though.” To the receding strains of ABBA’s “I Have a Dream” and Jessica’s semi-alarmed gaze, I vanished into the sauna. “We are children of the sun,” he said as he rubbed me with a mixture of honey and salt. I was prostrate on a bed of impossibly fragrant leaves. “Pirts is the world’s oldest solar power. The person who goes once a week doesn’t get sick.” Then he began swatting me with a bouquet of birch, oak, rowan, linden and hazel leaves. There were various kinds of bouquets, each with a different job. Jessica’s, for instance, had more linden because “God gives woman more energy, and linden brings it down. Otherwise,” he said, quoting a folk saying, “at home it’s a riot instead of peace and quiet.” I had never breathed in such an unadulterated scent of the woods. The first thing the man saw rising out of my astral field as he swatted me was a rainbow. Then a water demon. Then I was riding a turtle. Things started more ominously for Jessica, whose astral field sent up a clock going backward, then barbed wire. Then, more encouragingly, she walked a tiger on a leash. At the end of the treatments, we were gently wheeled around the cool water of a nearby pond and left to lie in the grass of a meadow, the sun shining down softly. After what could have been 10 minutes or an hour, Jessica sprung from her reverie, stirring me from mine. “This place is so gentle,” she exclaimed, and went back to sleep. I stayed awake, thinking. Since we’d met, I’d wanted so much to share with her something of my past. Finally, I’d found a version of it that had made beauty out of the darkness.

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estonia

Riga

Baltic Sea l at via

lithuania

visiting Latvia

Rich in history, with a burgeoning creative scene, the Eastern European nation is only starting to hit the radar of global travelers. The perfect weeklong visit combines four days in the capital, Riga, with three more in the nearby countryside.

GETTING THERE A variety of European carriers such as KLM (klm.com) and Lufthansa (lufthansa.com) will get you to Riga via a stop in a major hub.

which prepares updated versions of traditional food in a rustic setting. We had an excellent dessert of rhubarb purée, hazelnut meringue, rhubarb sorbet and milk foam.

LODGING When I visited Riga previously, I stayed at the Neiburgs (neiburgs. com; doubles from €140), a boutique hotel with rooms overlooking the mansard roofs of Old Town, a library that doubles as a showcase for local textiles, and a spa that can be reserved for private use, as I did every night. This time, I opted for the contemporary sleekness of the Hotel Bergs (hotelbergs.lv; doubles from €215) and the sumptuous oldworld style of the Grand Palace Hotel (grandpalaceriga.com; doubles from €150). With a subdued palette, high-design flourishes and refined restaurant, the Bergs, which neighbors a luxury-shopping arcade, would not be out of place in Miami. The Grand Palace evokes Vienna: chandeliers, soaring ceilings, and staff in bow ties. The Annas Hotel (annashotel.com; suites from €120), an hour and a half from Riga, offers 10 apartment-like suites.

EXPERIENCES No trip to Riga is complete without seeing the former local KGB headquarters, the Corner House (kgbbuilding.lv), so named because it sits at the intersection of two major streets downtown. Latvians joked grimly that the Corner House was the tallest building in the country— you could see from it all the way to Siberia. The English-language tours are often led by a guide for whom the endeavor is clearly personal. Riga’s Old Town is a warren of mostly unexpected delights. For shopping, I suggest browsing for avant-garde jewelry at Art Gallery Putti (putti.lv/en); body-care products derived from Latvian flora (juniper shower gel, milk-thistle eye cream) at Pienene (latviangreen. com); and household items and accessories—linens, kitchenware, handbags—at Riija (riija.lv). For a traditional pirts (sauna) experience in the countryside, head to Brūveri (hotelbruveri.lv; pirts €50 per person), a hotel complex near Sigulda, which is the scenic gateway to Gauja National Park about an hour from Riga. Sigulda is surrounded by castles and hiking trails—for locals, it’s the Switzerland of Latvia—and has a small cottage industry of adventure sports (bungee jumping, bobsledding). And while you have to be venturesome to seek out carpenter Jacob Dimiters’s property and the workshop of the Northmen guild of ax- and watchmakers (northmen.com), you won’t regret it. He may reward your effort, as he did ours, with homemade blini with fresh cream and lingonberry preserves or a pizza from his woodburning oven. — B.F.

eat & drink You could visit the Riga Central Market (rct.lv/en) because it’s housed in five of the last eight World War I dirigible hangars on the planet, or because you’ll find the full bounty of Latvian food production, from the countryside to the waters. You will never have strawberries and cherries this sweet anywhere else. Both 3 Pavaru (3pavari.lv; mains €20–€30) and Restorans 3 (restaurant3.lv; tasting menus from €42) serve modern Latvian cuisine and should be first on any gourmand’s itinerary, but for an entirely different yet equally heady experience, visit Valtera (valtera restorans.lv/en; mains €12–€24),

NAPLES, ITALY FOUNDED IN 1737

CELEBRATING THE 20TH ANNIVERSARY OF BANGKOK’S INTERNATIONAL FESTIVAL OF DANCE & MUSIC

Naples’ Teatro di San Carlo, the oldest continuously active opera house in the world presents the top singers of the opera world in a stunning production

CARMEN

A once in a lifetime opportunity to hear the world’s leading opera singers who regularly perform at New York’s Metropolitan Opera, Teatro alla Scala, Vienna State Opera, Royal Opera House Covent Garden, Paris Opéra, Bolshoi Theatre, Opera di Firenze and Teatro di San Carlo

IN FOUR ACTS

OPERA

WITH A CAST OF OVER 250 ARTISTS

Among the singers are tenor extraordinare and Grammy Nominee Saimir Pirgu, mezzo soprano Veronica Simeoni, baritone Vito Priante, Carlo Bosi one of the greatest comprimario tenors of his generation and tenor Gianfranco Montresor who has performed along with Andrea Bocelli CONDUCTED BY THE LEGENDARY

ZUBIN MEHTA

ONLY TWO PERFORMANCES September 12 & 14, 2018 Ticket Prices: BAHT 10,000 / 7,000 / 5,000 / 4,000 / 2,000 HOTLINE 02 262 3191 (24 HRS) WWW.THAITICKETMAJOR.COM

PERFORMANCE STARTS AT 7.30 PM VENUE: THAILAND CULTURAL CENTRE www.bangkokfestivals.com

COMMEMORATING 150 YEARS OF DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS BETWEEN THAILAND AND ITALY

SUPPORTED BY SCG AND TATA STEEL

A bedrock in a famous region, Jordan contains ancient ruins and cultural treasures that go far beyond the city of Petra. On an adventure-filled journey through the country, Zander Abranowicz watches history unfold amid the alien beauty of the desert landscapes. Photogr aphed by William Abr anowicz

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Crossing Jordan

Wadi Rum, or Sand Valley, in southern Jordan. It became widely known thanks to the writings of British officer and archaeologist T. E.Â Lawrence, the inspiration for Lawrence of Arabia, which was filmed here.

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MY father and I dangled

our bare feet over the edge of a cliff, a column of light broke through the clouds and swept across the dunes of Wadi Rum. In his book The Seven Pillars of Wisdom, the British officer and archaeologist T. E. Lawrence, who often camped here during the Arab revolt of 1916, described the place as “vast and echoing and godlike.” We’d been discussing how much this nearly 800-square-kilometer wadi, or valley, in southern Jordan reminded us of the canyons of the American West as mythologized by Edward Curtis, one of our favorite photographers. But we fell silent when the sun lit up the red earth. So did a dozen other travelers scattered atop the mount. My father, a longtime travel photographer and the man responsible for these images, reached for his camera. We all took in the view until a pickup truck appeared, kicking up clouds of sand, to ferry us back to our tented camps for sunset. To travel in the Kingdom of Jordan is to be constantly reminded of the ancient world. Four

days earlier, as we explored the capital city of Amman, our guide had taken us up Mount Al-Qalah, one of the seven limestone hills that make up the old city. We stopped for an aerial view of a Roman amphitheater, built in the second century, that is now surrounded by low apartment buildings. The steep rows still seat spectators for cultural events. A plaza at the base of the amphitheater hummed with gentle activity, as locals enjoyed the cool evening. Floodlights cast shadows against the Roman walls as the call to prayer echoed. Jordan, it must be said, is in a difficult neighborhood. Hundreds of thousands (some say millions) of Syrian and Iraqi refugees have crossed the country’s northern and eastern borders during the past 15 years. (Earlier this year, the kingdom even rescued Lula, a starving bear, from a bombed-out zoo in Mosul, Iraq, resettling her in a wildlife refuge in Amman.) Across the river Jordan, in the West Bank, Palestinians still live under Israeli occupation. To the southwest, across the Red Sea, Egypt struggles to contain an Islamist insurgency on

the Sinai Peninsula. Saudi Arabia, to the southeast, offers stability—though the ambitions of the crown prince, Mohammad bin Salman, could change that. A bastion of peace in a volatile part of the world, Jordan has long relied on tourism, which until the Arab Spring accounted for 20 percent of the country’s GDP. But foreign travel has slowed since then, straining both the economy and the national psyche. One might argue that there has never been a better time to visit Jordan, since sites like Petra are less trafficked than they have been in years. (The ancient Nabataean city saw 400,000 visitors in 2016, half of what it got a decade earlier.) My father and I avoid crowds when traveling, which is part of what drew us to visit Jordan with Wild Frontiers, a London-based tour operator that organizes tailor-made, off-thebeaten-path itineraries. We also wanted to go because every traveler who chooses Jordan right now is casting a vote of support for the country’s stability, and, in turn, the stability of our world.

from far left:

Greco-Roman columns in the ancient city of Jerash; Bedouin gather for tea in Wadi Rum, a valley in southern Jordan; Feynan Eco Lodge, an intimate property located in the Dana Biosphere Reserve, uses no electricity, relying on tiny candles to illuminate the halls and rooms.

On our second morninG, Ahmed, our guide, and Wasfi, our driver, met us in the lobby of the Grand Hyatt Amman. We all loaded into a silver Kia and sped north along the eastern wall of the Zarqa Valley, then west across the Zarqa River. Our destination: the Greco-Roman city of Jerash. As we approached a shuttered amusement park, Ahmed said, “Here we are!” My father and I laughed. Then, moments later, a sandstone gateway appeared, and we realized he wasn’t kidding. Shaded by a red juniper, its central arch buttressed by two smaller archways, the south gate stood tall, as it did centuries ago for travelers who followed the King’s Highway from the Egyptian city of Memphis to Jerash and, farther north, into Damascus and Resafa, in what is modern-day Syria. Alexander the Great first established Jerash as one of the great cities of the Decapolis, a network of 10 settlements he built throughout the Levant. In the ensuing centuries, it was occupied by Byzantines, Crusaders, Mamluks and Ottomans, but it was the Romans who made it

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into the regal metropolis whose ruins we had come to see. A broad road led us to the forum, an expansive oval commons surrounded by an Ionic colonnade. The only other person there was a merchant dozing at his souvenir stand. We trod carefully on the Roman road extending north from the forum; deep grooves from centuries of traffic made footing treacherous. Carvings of acanthus leaves crowned the high Corinthian columns that lined our route. Starlings darted in and out of nests wedged in the cracks between segments. We lingered at the nymphaeum, an ornate fountain that once dispensed water from seven spigots. Earthquakes have rerouted its water source, but other Roman-era basins around Jerash fill up each winter. Next, we rode south on the King’s Highway, which has been adapted to modern needs. Though slower than the parallel Desert Highway, it is far more scenic. The tight folds of the Ammani hills gave way to undulating valleys dotted with olive trees and groves of prickly pears. On our long push southward, we stopped at Mount Nebo, where Moses is said to have died, and Karak, a cliff-side Crusader fortress, both of which left me again in awe of Jordan’s history. We also saw girls in white hijabs walking home from school and the blank faces of local politicians staring from faded campaign posters. By the time we approached the mountain village of Dana, darkness had fallen, interrupted only by the flickering lights of Israel in the distance. Closer to us lay a black gulf I knew to be the Dana Biosphere Reserve, set aside in 1989 by the Royal Society for the Conservation of Nature (RSCN). The late King Hussein, considered the father of modern Jordan, founded the RSCN in 1966 to stem the extermination of the Arabian oryx, an elusive, steppe-dwelling antelope that had been hunted nearly to extinction by oilmen and Arab princes. Reintroduced to the wild in 1980, the animal now safely roams reserves in other parts of the country, including Wadi Rum and Shaumari. Though there are no Arabian oryx at Dana, there are numerous other creatures, and the reserve is Jordan’s largest, covering 512 square kilometers on the edge of the Great Rift Valley, the tectonic trench extending all the way from Lebanon to Mozambique. I woke up the next morning to my father’s voice. “Come see this,” he called from the balcony. Pillowy masses of fog filled the walls of a sweeping canyon. I now saw that our room at the

Mosaics in a Byzantine-era church at Mount Nebo, a ridge mentioned in the Hebrew Bible. Opposite: A cat plays near Ad Deir, or the Monastery, in the ancient city of Petra. The structure was built by the Nabataeans in the first century A.D.

RSCN-run Dana Guesthouse was cantilevered over the edge of the kilometers-wide basin, which on its west side funneled into a gorge. Eleven hiking trails snake through Dana. Malik, our encyclopedic local guide, led us through the center of the valley along the most popular route. Not long into our descent, Malik grabbed my arm and pointed. My eyes made out a twitch of motion on the northern canyon wall. “Nubian ibex,” he whispered. “There, another! And another!” Rapt, we tracked a half-dozen of these nimble mountain goats as they skirted the face. They stayed in a tight unit to guard against the threat of eagles, whose preferred hunting method is to drag young ibex from the cliffs, then let gravity finish the job. Malik explained that ibex venture from the highlands only in search of water. “It hasn’t rained for months,” he explained. Their bad luck, it seemed, was our good fortune. As we descended, scree gave way to soft sand that showed the tracks of a sand fox. Malik pointed to a trio of griffon vultures,

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a species of old-world scavengers, who were using their three-meter wingspans to surf the ridgeline thermals high above us. In the course of four hours and 1,200 meters we had passed through each of Jordan’s four bioclimatic zones: Mediterranean (windswept and dotted with juniper), Irano-Turanian (marked by sculptural rock formations), Saharo-Arabian (parched, pure, cinematic) and Sudanian (shaded by acacia and stands of bamboo brought by migrating birds). With the sun still high, we crossed Wadi Dana’s final escarpment, where a band of Bedouin was camped in black goatskin tents. A few young tribesmen emerged to observe us walking to the lowlands of Feynan. The Bedouin (from the Arabic badawi, meaning “desert dweller”) once wandered between North Africa and Iraq, guiding argosies of camels and taxing foreign caravans. As with other indigenous populations from the Americas to Australia, colonial statecraft had a withering effect on their traditional way of life in the 19th and 20th centuries, pushing many into cities. Today, however, the Bedouin enjoy significant autonomy, both legal and cultural. The Middle East is known for the ritual welcoming of guests, but the Bedouin have turned it into an art. The next place we stayed, the Bedouin-run Feynan Eco Lodge, which sits between Dana’s highlands and the desert of Wadi Araba, exemplifies their knack for hospitality. After passing through the worn wooden doors of a large adobe structure and into a tree-shaded courtyard, we were met by the lodge’s young manager, Hussein al-Amareen, who handed us icy glasses of fresh mint lemonade. He then showed us to our room, which had colorful glass embedded in the stucco walls. That afternoon, three of the hotel’s Bedouin employees led us and a pair of intrepid young English women up a gentle rise west of the lodge. There they built a small fire and brewed sage tea. “It hasn’t rained here in many months,” said Suleiman, who spoke the strongest English. It’s not the economic pressure of drought that most disturbs the community, he explained, but the sense of cosmic misalignment it represents. Without rain, they had no way to practice their ancient pastoral ways. Replace “rain” with “travelers,” and our conversation reflected many I’d had, with street merchants and local guides, across the country in the past few days. The sustainability of Jordan’s traditions relies, in no small part, on the health of the tourism business.

Guest tents at the Discovery Bedu Camp, in Wadi Rum, a protected area in southern Jordan. At the eco-conscious property, experiences range from sandboarding dunes to riding camels.

The mood grew lighter as the sun dropped behind the clouds, the mountains glowing saffron and scarlet. We returned to a lodge lit by hundreds of flickering candles, all made on site. In the dining room, we heaped our plates high with stuffed eggplant, hummus and fresh pita, then ate on the patio under the stars with our new English friends. Later, my father retired to our room, glad to leave me in such unexpected, pleasant company. The three of us relaxed on well-worn sofas around a fire in the lodge’s common room with our guides, sharing travel stories and asking questions about Bedouin life. like many who come to Jordan, my father and I were anxious to see the ancient city of Petra, about a two-hour drive south of Feynan. Few, however, enter this network of sandstone cave dwellings and classical façades as we did. Following a Bedouin guide and his mule, we ascended a stone path along a harrowing valley, circumventing the crowded route through the gorge to approach Petra from the northwest: a reverse commute, as my father described it. I was absorbed by the rock formations, sculpted by the winds over millennia to resemble delicate turtle shells, or the baleen of a whale. “The greatest artists pale in comparison,” my father said. Around noon we reached a plateau edged by long-abandoned cave dwellings. Turning a corner revealed the sandstone façade of Ad Deir, Petra’s Monastery, standing 50 meters above a sandy plaza. Less ornate than the iconic Treasury, the Monastery is also quieter and more meditative. That’s partly because it’s shielded from tourists and Bedouin hawkers by a steep one-hour hike, preceded by a halfhour approach through the gorge from the nearby city of Wadi Musa. Ancient Nabataeans incised the structure deep into the mountain sometime in the first century B.C. as Petra was growing into a thriving city of 20,000. Later expanded by Byzantine settlers, the Monastery consists of two stories; the top is a broken pediment surrounding a grand tholos upon which a large urn sits. Some locals believe the urn contains a pharaoh’s hoard of gold. I ordered a Turkish coffee with cardamom from the restaurant and settled onto one of the padded benches facing the Monastery. Two Bedouin sat in the mountain’s shadow brewing tea, shielding the flames of their fire from the occasional gust with their thick goathair robes. The wind whistled through the pocked canyons as a column of goats marched across the empty plaza, kicking up dust.

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The following day, we cruised along a highway parallel to the Hejaz Railroad, the artery that once linked Damascus to Medina. When Lawrence and his troops severed it in World War I, the Ottoman Empire bled to death. In the village of Wadi Rum, the gateway to the entire Wadi Rum area, we said farewell to Wasfi, our driver, and swapped our trusty Kia for a four-wheel-drive pickup (with a Bedouin navigator) capable of handling the sand tracks that extend beyond the road’s end. The broad, rusty plains set between towering granite and sandstone massifs could have been in Utah’s Moab Desert (so named for the ancient Kingdom of Moab, whose borders fall within modern-day Jordan) were it not for the wild camels grazing on brittle stands of the white saxaul tree, that brushy bush whose succulent root system oddly allows it to thrive better in sand than soil. We paused by a cliff with other travelers, remarking on the beauty of it all. As we crested a dune, we saw six white canvas tents tucked in the ridge’s lee. At the compound’s entrance were three men wearing red kaffiyehs and navy parkas with the camp’s name, Discovery Bedu, stitched on the chest: Muhammad (the camp’s diligent manager) and two porters. One conveyed our bags to the tent. The other offered a tray of warm towels, cups of mint tea, and dates. Shielded from the wind on two sides, Discovery Bedu was otherwise open, an opera box over a plain whose sands faded from deep red to white. As the sun went down, the temperature dropped precipitously. We left the warmth of our guest tent to enjoy a communal dinner. The chef had prepared a main course of chicken, lamb and vegetables, heated in a barrel under the sand by fragrant, smoldering olive-wood coals. We ate like emirs alongside the only other guests, a couple from Boston. Some time into the meal, we realized it was Thanksgiving. As if we didn’t have enough to be grateful for already, we emerged from the main tent to find that the clouds had parted, exposing an infinite network of constellations. After sharing this extraordinary evening, we four Americans so far from home wished one another a good night, and returned to our tents. After my father showed me the day’s photographs, I picked up Lawrence’s Seven Pillars of Wisdom to read once more about his adventures in Wadi Rum and to contemplate how they had foreshadowed my own. The following day, as we drove north to Amman, I thought of my new Bedouin friends at Feynan. In the days since we had left those parched lowlands, rain had fallen, a signal of hope for their community.

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Syria

W es t bank

Jerash

Iraq

Jordan

Amman Israel

Egypt

Dead sea

Petra

Saudi Arabia

Dana biosphere r es e r v e

Wa d i Rum

A Journey through Jordan You’ll want to spend at least a week exploring the streets of the capital city Amman, the desert dunes of Wadi Rum, the mountains of the Dana Biosphere Reserve, and, of course, Petra.

GETTING THERE Royal Jordanian Airlines (rj.com) offers services from Bangkok, Hong Kong and Kuala Lumpur to Amman. Nationals of most countries can obtain a visa on arrival, while others will need to apply in advance of travel. Be sure to check international. visitjordan.com for details. TOUR OPERATOR Independent travel is possible, but an operator such as Wild Frontiers, which arranged our trip, can help foster a deeper understanding of the country. Jonny Bealby, the founder, is part of Travel + Leisure’s A-List network of the top travel advisors. Our custom 10-day itinerary combined time in Amman with adventures in the desert, and included an English-speaking guide and driver for the first seven days. wildfrontiers.travel; from US$3,895 per person.

lodging and experiences We began in Amman, at the Grand Hyatt (hyatt. com; doubles from US$129), our base for visiting markets and heading out to the Greco-Roman city of Jerash. After two nights there, we had one night each at a succession of hotels, beginning with the 2½-hour south Dana Guesthouse (wildjordan.com; doubles from US$140), run by the Royal Society for the Conservation of Nature (RSCN). It is a haven for hikers and naturalists on the edge of the Wadi Dana, in the Dana Biosphere Reserve. A fourhour hike away is the Feynan Eco Lodge (ecohotels. me; doubles from US$114), run by Bedouin on behalf of the RSCN and still within the reserve. I loved the bird-watching. From there, we drove two hours south to Petra, where we enjoyed an afternoon at the ruins before

spending the night at the Mövenpick Resort (movenpick. com; doubles from US$191). But the highlight was our two-night stay at Discovery Bedu Camp (discovery destinations.com; doubles from US$800), six well-appointed tents set amid the canyons of Wadi Rum. It is two hours south of Petra, and a great base to go camel riding in the desert. For our last two nights, we returned to Amman. From Kempinski Hotel Amman (kempinski.com; doubles from US$143), we set out to see the Jordan Archaeological Museum (jordan museum.jo). What to pack You'll need a sturdy pair of hiking boots or sneakers for the Dana Biosphere Reserve, Petra and Wadi Rum. Light, comfortable clothing is good for daytime; a heavier jacket will come in handy for chilly desert evenings. — Z.A.

GREAT FOOD, WARM VIBES AT HARRY’S

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wish you were here

Running 15 kilometers in from the Tasman Sea and with sheer rock faces that rise 1,200 meters, Milford Sound is best explored by tramping or by kayaking. In one of the wettest places on earth, it is common to find seals, bottlenose dolphins, and, thanks to recovery efforts, humpback and southern right whales as swimming companions. Early European explorers, including Captain Cook, overlooked these waters thinking they held little promise, but today up to one million visit each year. â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Brent Purcell

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