Category: Expert Travel Advice

by Kasia Nowicka

Another city break was planned and I was excited as the photos I had seen of Bruges looked magical. But then I thought that it was going to be yet another European town; some museums, a few lovely squares, a little bit of shopping (for chocolate, of course) and hopefully a few examples of local cuisine. I knew all of this, just different versions of it. I still wanted it to be an exciting trip, so I reached for “Bruges-la-morte” by Georges Rodenbach. Maybe not one of the most cheerful reads but definitely one that added some meaning to my trip. 

Nowadays Bruges seems to be an overly romantic city, full of cafes, quaint squares, delightful green spaces, and full of chocolate, beer and lace shops, all to please tourists. It did not use to be like that, definitely not at the time of Hugues Viane, the protagonist, who saw the city decaying along with his own life. Continue reading Bruges

With the short days of winter upon us there might be fewer daylight hours, but it’s more important than ever to enjoy them outside! The skies are full of birdlife and walking is great for keeping you warm so get off the sofa and try one of these Discovering Britain walks created by our friends at the Royal Geographical Society.

The most loved hill in Britain?

To Hell with your Alps, Rockies and Himalaya, Bennachie is the hill for me!

Bennachie in Aberdeenshire is not particularly high, certainly compared with the giants of the nearby Cairngorm Mountains, yet it stands out from the surrounding undulating lowlands. It has become an icon of the area, much beloved by local people, imbued with folklore and captured in the poetry and arts of the region.

Blow away the cobwebs and invigorate your mind (as well as your body) on this 6 mile walk. Find out why it’s might just be ‘the most loved hill in Britain’, discover the legends of the hill and fall under its spell.

– If you enjoy hill walking you might also like our geographical walks up the Wrekin in Shropshire, Great Dun Fell in the North Pennines and Borrowdale in the Lake District. Continue reading Discover more about Britain in 2014…

by Steve Davey

Many people are familiar with the Pushkar Mela: the so-called Pushkar Camel Fair where camels are traded in the Rajasthan desert, but the same Kartik Poornima full moon in November sees a less well known but much larger festival that attracts hundreds of thousands of pilgrims. The Sonepur Mela happens just outside of the town of Patna in Bihar at the village of Sonepur and is billed as being the largest livestock market in Asia. It is most famous for the Haathi Bazaar, where dozens of elephants are traded in a sprawling encampment under an shady canopy of ancient trees.

Every morning and afternoon, these great beasts are taken down to the river to be bathed, and then they have decorations applied to their skin with paint. This shows them off to their best advantage and helps the owner to command a higher price. Technically it is illegal to sell elephants in India and so the whole process is shrouded in mystery, and people work out an elaborate series of leases for the animals to circumvent the law.

Other animals are traded at the fair, including cattle, buffalo and horses. The buffalo market seems to be the most animated. Sellers argue loudly with the owners. Deals seem to be concluded by a group of buyers physically taking the buffalo. This is in complete contrast to the haathi bazaar where trading seems to progress at a slow pace, and then be concluded by touch with hands under a cloth, so that no one outside of the deal knows the agreement. Continue reading Sonepur

by Gregor Swiderek

For a start I should probably explain that the name of Great Basin is rather misleading. By a basin most people understand a flat area surrounded by hills or mountains. In the case of the Great Basin it is a bit more complicated. For a start it is an absolutely huge region, not much smaller than the whole of Spain, but with a small population. The only real population centres are located on its edges. But more importantly it is not flat at all. In fact the Basin includes valleys, basins, lakes and mountain ranges of Basin and Range topography. For example driving the US Hwy 50 in Nevada includes crossing at least half a dozen substantial mountain ranges and the road often climbs up to 7000-8000 feet. (2100-2500m) above the sea level. They run parallel to each other and are roughly oriented from north to south.

That means that driving here is never boring. Yes, there are long straight stretches of open highways (perfect for testing the top speed of our rental Camaro) but there are also twisted mountain roads as well as great vistas from the higher elevations. All this with minimal traffic. In fact some of the lesser roads were virtually empty. For example when we chose Nevada Hwy 722, which for 65 miles bypasses the main highway to the south, we only encountered 3 or 4 vehicles.

If the landscape wasn’t wild enough then there was the weather. We were crossing the Basin at the same time as a cold front from the North Pacific stretched this way. That meant spectacular cloud formations, dark mysterious skies and snow. Yes we did experienced snowfall along with some freezing temperatures, especially crossing the mountain passes.

It took us the good part of the day to cross most of the Basin from Fallon in the west to the town of Ely, close to the Utah border in the east, where we decided to spend the night. On one hand we were mostly speeding but on the other hand we made plenty of photo stops. Probably too many judging from the number of pictures of the empty highways I now have on my laptop but it was damn difficult to stop taking pictures as the landscape kept changing every few minutes and the spectacular sky even more often. Continue reading Wild Great Basin

Gregor Swiderek heads back to the USA taking a roadtrip through the Great Basin in Nevada stopping off at Carson City along the way..

Nevada is a fascinating state but apart from Las Vegas not really on many people’s itineraries. I was always attracted to the less popular states but what especially drew me into Nevada was the Great Basin.

Now, Great Basin is one of the places which I’ve really wanted to visit for quite a while (some of my less diplomatic friends could even say that I was obsessed with it). In recent years I was however preoccupied with my little project of finishing off visiting all the lower 48 states. After finally ticking off that box last year, this year I felt free to return to the Western USA and obviously decided to make the Great Basin one of the main points of my road trip. But before descending into the properly wild depths of the basin I found myself in the heart of historic Nevada. Something I didn’t really plan but that is the best thing about travel isn’t it?

After spending some time in the Bay Area and later on the shores of Lake Tahoe (more about that later), we entered the Great Basin following the US Hwy 50 descending from the Sierra Nevada mountains towards the capital of the Silver State, Carson City.

It is a curious little place. With a population of only around fifty thousands it still has quite a lot of its frontier feel left. As usual I couldn’t skip the state capitol while visiting a state capital. Nevada State Capitol is on the smaller side among all the state capitols but no less fascinating. It is also one of the ever smaller group of state legislatures which you can visit without passing through the airport-style security. You can just walk in and explore on your own, pretty much most of the building, not asked by anyone what are you doing. Built in 1870 it is apparently the second oldest capitol building west of the Mississippi. There are some interesting murals connected to the history of mining in Nevada as well as some weird displays, among them an elk horn chair (don’t even ask why), but to be honest, you won’t need to spend more than half an hour inside.

After leaving the capitol we wondered around the downtown Carson City for a while. There is a surprising amount of nice historic buildings for such a small place. Carson City was obviously a much more important place in the second half of the 19^th century, when it was centre of a massive mining boom, and it is clearly visible in its architecture. One of those old buildings, an old saloon, was for example converted into an interesting independent coffee shop. It was a really funky place where old pensioners wearing veteran’s hats sat alongside the middle aged hippies. What’s best, a lot of the historic features were preserved and you could clearly make out the layout of the old saloon.

But however hard the Carson City Convention and Visitors Bureau is trying to convince you otherwise, after just few hours there is not really much to do in the city. Luckily just east of the town stretches the vast and fascinating Great Basin. However, before venturing into the truly empty vastness, we decided to follow some advice from the same Carson City Convention and Visitors Bureau (staffed by lovely, if a bit overenthusiastic, volunteers) and head to the historic Virginia City which is located just 15 miles to the north east.

It sprang up as a boomtown on top of the Comstock Lode, the first major silver deposit discovered in the United States, in 1859, and at its peak reached population of about 15000.

Today its population is less than a thousand and the town represents something of a cross between a ghost town, dilapidated local town (common in this region) and an amusement park. I’m still not sure what to make of it. The historic buildings are still there (kept in the state of managed disrepair so they don’t look to sweet) and many of them are quite interesting (like the Bucket of Blood Saloon, the Old Globe, the Silver Queen, and the Suicide Table) but at the same time they are nowadays mostly converted into tacky and kitschy gift shops full of crap. Still, it was interesting to visit the place where Samuel Clemens first used his pen name of Mark Twain when he was reporter of the local Territorial Enterprise. You might also seriously consider a visit here if you are interested in bikes. For some reason the town seems to be really popular among the bikers and plenty of them slowly ride along the main street. Also, in front of most of the saloons and shops are parked some spectacular machines. So if you are a “bike spotter” head there.

However interesting or lovely Carson City and Virginia City were the real reason to head this direction is the spectacular landscapes of the Great Basin.

We had chosen to continue along the US Hwy 50 (which is also aptly named the “Loneliest Highway”) to explore this huge area. For the first 50 or 60 miles east of Carson City until, let say, the town of Fallon, it doesn’t yet feel that wild but further east the landscape becomes truly spectacular and settlements become really sparse. We decided to stop at Grimes Point, just east of Fallon, where on land controlled by the Bureau of Land Management are located some very old and fascinating petroglyphs. The rock art is believed to be about 6000 years old and back then the area around was surrounded by water and marshes. Now it is a desolate desert but the signs of the ancient lake are still visible in the landscape. I found it fascinating to see such old sights in the country where everything seems to be so recent. There is a short interpretive trail as well as a few picnic tables where we decided to have a quick lunch before heading further east where things get really empty and desolate but also beautiful in the same time.

But that deserves a separate post. 

Planning a trip to Nevada? Browse our map and guide selection here>

by Gregor Swiderek

Another day off, another motorway walk. But this time I had persuaded my girlfriend to come with me so I had to add something extra, preferably historical, to my, normally, ultra-geeky motorway explorations. After spending some time pouring over an OS Explorer map (number 147 to be precise), I finally had a clear plan of action.

We started our trip in Dunton Green station conveniently located less than a mile from the interesting junction 5 on M25 (the one where the M25 is joined by the M26 and A21). From the station we followed London Road and Sundridge Road, and after just a few minutes we were standing on an impressive overpass carrying the local Chevening Road right over the junction. It was a perfect spot for some good road photography (which I can then share on websites even more geeky than me).

After taking a few dozen (or actually rather more) photos we were ready to move on to the second point of our adventure, the town of Westerham. Why there? During my studies of the OS map I spotted a National Trust property, called Quebec House, located in that town. After a few more minutes of online searches I knew that I really wanted to visit it as I am interested in historical connections between Britain and North America. Continue reading What connects motorway M25 and General James Wolfe?

There are a lot of amazing festivals out there: Steve Davey should know, he is the author of a book detailing 500 of the best cultural celebrations around the world.

I have recently returned from one of the most breath-taking festivals I have ever visited. Breath-taking as it is an incredible traditional Buddhist festival held in a rickety monastery on the shores of the beautiful lake Tsomoriri; and breath-taking due to the high altitude. Tsomoriri lies at 4595 m (15,075 ft) and is primarily fed by the spring snow melt in this harsh, yet stunning region.

The dusty village of Korzok lies at the edge of the brackish lake, and is noted for the ancient Korzok Gompa – a Tibetan Buddhist monastery, which is home to around a dozen monks.

The annual festival, or Gustor, attracts Chang-pa herdsmen from the surrounding area. These devout nomads bring their yaks and Pashmina goats to the grasslands above the village for the Summer grazing. Many of the women wear elaborate headdresses, decorated with lumps of turquoise. Continue reading The breathless Korzok Gustor

By Debbie Valentine

The city formerly known as Leningrad is a place steeped in history, culture and vodka. St Petersburg feels as though it is still adjusting to not being a Soviet city, more than 20 years after the fall of Communism. With more than 200 museums, there are some fascinating places to see, and the queues and tourist shops will attest to their popularity, but equally you feel that crossing the street might lead you back to the seventies.

The city was founded in the early 18^th century by Peter the Great, who captured the land from the Swedes so Russia could have a sea-port, and promptly laid down the Peter and Paul fortress. The fortress is open to visitors and contains the final resting place of the Romanov family.

St Petersburg is unique because of its fantastic architecture, and this is the big draw for many visitors to the city. A decree in the mid-18^th century stated that no building could be higher than the Winter Palace (now the home of the Hermitage museum), which has led to the uniform look of the older parts of St Petersburg. The large number of aristocrats in pre-revolutionary Russia has meant that there are a vast number of baroque palaces along the River Neva, and it is a beautiful cityscape. The buildings of Soviet Leningrad create an odd dichotomy with the pre-revolutionary buildings. The functionalist buildings outside the centre of the city are definitely unattractive, but offer a glimpse into life in the USSR. Modern architecture is now making its impact on the city, and St Petersburg is now home to some skyscrapers, although regulations prohibit building near the historic centre. Continue reading St Petersburg

By Tim Cleary

The shape of my journey was a loop. The good thing about loops is that you begin in one place and return to it later, allowing you to experience your start point and end point – the same place – as a resolution in your mind, a lesson in experience.

My lesson began and ended in Tangier, fabled Moroccan city, known to many as the adoptive home of Paul Bowles and other members of the Beat Generation. I had wanted to travel to Morocco ever since I met warm-hearted Moroccan immigrants who had served me lamb tagine, couscous and mint tea when I was living in France. I had also become obsessed with Berbers, the indigenous population of North Africa. And, since Algeria was still a little risky following civil war and brutal killings since the 1990s, Morocco was the best place to go in order to meet them – other than Paris, Marseille and Lyon, of course.

Tangier is a Berber city to the core since many Tanjawis have their roots in the nearby Rifmountains, home to Riffian Berbers and Tarifit, the local form of the Berber language. I expected this port to be as welcoming as the low-lying, comfortable divan in the front room of the Ababou family home inFrance, where I had been waited upon like a reclining pasha. Continue reading The Moroccan Loop

by Gregor Swiderek

A couple of years ago with my cousin we decided to visit the Lake District and Hadrian’s Wall. Visiting the district was my cousin’s dream for many years while I was always fascinated by the wall. So it all looked like a great trip..

Our adventure couldn’t have started better. We drove from London and arrived at Windermere in the late afternoon. From there we drove the A595 over the spectacular Kirkstone Pass (at 454 m above the sea level the highest pass in the district open to vehicular traffic) then along the equally scenic Ullswater before stopping for a night in Penrith. It was a glorious day and we were looking forward to the next day.

Well, it couldn’t have started worse. It was raining, it was windy and it was foggy. Classic Lake District weather. Still, we didn’t give up and bravely drove into the hills hoping for the best. We were touring narrow lanes of the district with the heating in our car running on high trying to convince us that it was  actually warm. Obviously it didn’t work as any time we left the car for even the briefest moment the wind hit us with the full force of a hurricane, chilling us to the bone. Damn, it was just mid September, I don’t even want to know how it is there in January.

Finally we arrived at Honister Pass. Road B5289 leading there was as scenic as A595 the previous day but we couldn’t really appreciate the views as visibility was poor (actually, non-existent would be a much better description). At the top we stopped for a tea in a vain hope of trying to wait out the rain. It didn’t work and after an hour or so we decided to drive down and head to Carlisle when we had rooms booked for the night. Continue reading Romans and Rain