Budget ski holidays in wild Slovakia provide a cheap and cheerful break

By Rick Shackleton

In the wild: Bears are not far from the slopes in Slovakia


Laca Kulanga, a Slovakian sherpa and holder of the 157kg record for uphill load-carrying, came towards us with two plates of bright red goulash in his slab-like hands.

Ten weeks earlier in the same wooden hut 6,000ft up in the Tatra mountains, he had locked himself in the bedroom as a mother bear and her cub smashed their way into the kitchen, foraging for food.

Laca was saved, not by brawn, but by a brainwave: he turned on the vacuum cleaner and the unearthly vroom drove the bears away.

Strange to think we were less than three hours away from Burger King in Luton airport.

In their snow caves, the bears were hibernating. Snowflakes were floating past the window and ranks of snow-laden spruce stretched far below. Apart from a walker and his bowl of onion soup, we were the only guests.

Half an hour later, we were careering down near-empty slopes and perfect snow in the knowledge that somewhere in the vast forests to the left and right were 18 wolves living uneasily alongside chamois, lynx, marmots and wild boar.

If wild is the new luxury, with books on wild swimming, wild camping and wild cooking doing a roaring trade, it is only a matter of time before someone writes a book about wild skiing.

To author Jack London a century ago, The Call Of The Wild meant 1,000-mile sled journeys through the Yukon at minus 50.

In our more pampered age, wild (and, crucially, cheap) skiing is precisely what Slovakia has to offer. The Tatra mountains are 450 square miles of forest, lakes and jagged peaks rising to 8,700ft, on the border of Poland and Slovakia at the southern end of the Carpathians.

They are largely as nature intended them to be. There is no sprawling lattice of pylons; no Michelin star restaurants serving foie gras ravioli; no Tommy Hilfiger-clad ladies sipping gluhwein.


Tatra Mountains: Peaks as nature intended them to be


Rather, there is a no-frills mountain culture in which the basics - accommodation, ski rental, lift systems and piste grooming - are taken care of to a high standard while everything else has its roots in a rural economy of hunting, farming and mountain guiding.

What's more, the good news is that like other wild holidays, skiing in the Tatras is 40 per cent less expensive than other resorts.

Remote and difficult to get to? Not at all. We fixed a last-minute weekend trip through the Tatra specialist, Mountain Paradise.

Cut-price airline Danube Wings flies several times a day from London, Manchester and Dublin to Poprad, the highest international airport in Europe, which is no more than 15 minutes from the slopes.


Large-scale resort: Skiers on the Lukova ski run, Lower Tatras


On our first day, we skied in the High Tatra resort of Tatranska Lomnica which, though small, made up for it by its emptiness and lack of lift queues. For the second day, we headed half an hour down the road to one of the biggest resorts in Central Europe, Jasna, in what is the Low Tatras, though they are the same height as the High Tatras.

It felt like an Alpine resort in scale and you could happily spend a week exploring the skiing possibilities on both sides of Chopok, the huge, domed mountain on which the resort is built.

But the wildness and hardiness were never far away. High winds had closed one of the ski lifts. 'No problem, we walk,' announced our guide, looking disdainfully up at 1,000ft or so of glistening vertical ice-sheet.

An hour later, having humped our skis over the mountain and slithered legs a-wobble down the other side, we were feasting on a £3 menu of dumplings, melted goat's cheese and half a litre of Slovakian beer.

We decided the call of the wild had been satisfied.

Travel factsMountain Paradise (0161 408 8988, mountainparadise.co.uk) has a week's skiing in the High Tatras staying at Pension Plesnivec for £450 pp and a week at Hotel Ski in the Low Tatras for £499 pp.

Both include return flights from Luton to Poprad, transfers, seven nights accommodation on a B&B basis in Pension Plesnivec or half-board at Hotel Ski and a six-day ski pass. The learn to ski or snowboard package in the HIgh Tatras costs from £599 pp. It includes flights, seven nights accommodation on a B&B basis, a six-day ski pass, ski or snowboard rental and five days of tuition (three hours a day).


source: dailymail

Charming Chatsworth: Derbyshire's grand dame of a stately home shines forth after a glamorous £15million top-to-toe overhaul

By Frank Barrett, Mail on Sunday Travel Editor

A bridge over placid water: Chatsworth enjoys an idyllic setting in rural Derbyshire


In the late Thirties Noel Coward gently lampooned the dishevelled state of the great British country houses, singing: ...if the Van Dycks have to go, and we pawn the Bechstein Grand, we'll stand, by the Stately Homes of England.''

The Depression had left the great estates, like the rest of Britain, in straitened circumstances. Comfortably perched on their aristocratic pinnacle, however, they could barely have guessed at the financial horrors about to come.

After the Second World War the landed gentry were almost knocked flat by the imposition of new death duties; suddenly the future existence of Britain's most glorious ancestral piles was in jeopardy.

Hitherto, the likes of Longleat, Woburn Abbey, Beaulieu and Blenheim Palace had enjoyed a quiet, contented existence and there seemed little reason to suppose this wellordered state of affairs would alter. But at a stroke, the noble families of Britain not only had to find ways of paying off huge tax demands (more than a few Van Dycks and other Old Masters went to the sale room to meet these bills), they also had to establish a way of trying to safeguard the future.

Some opted out completely by handing over their homes to the National Trust, but others fought on. Lord Bath famously established the Lions of Longleat and the Duke of Bedford followed his example with a safari park at Woburn Abbey, while Lord Montagu opened a motor museum at Beaulieu.

But it is arguably England's most handsome country house - Chatsworth, ancestral home of the Dukes of Devonshire --which has survived most impressively. In fact, it has not merely survived but has successfully recreated itself as one of the world's most extraordinary tourist attractions.

The Chatsworth story began with Bess of Hardwick in Tudor times, who was a forebear of the Devonshires, and continues now with Peregrine, the 12th Duke of Devonshire who inherited the title on the death of his father Andrew in 2004. In between are successive generations of the family - some brilliant, many clearly bonkers - who have in various ways devoted themselves to the maintenance and improvement of the family seat.

For most of its life Chatsworth was - in its magnificent way - the physical embodiment of their wealth and status. These days it is a commercial enterprise which needs visitors to survive. Tourism is an industry, like showbusiness, which depends on selling myths and dreams, and just as we queue to see blockbuster films, only the larger-than-life attractions draw the big crowds.


Hollywood thrills: Keira Knightley starred in the 2008 movie The Duchess, which is partly set at Chatsworth


Chatsworth is all showbusiness: the ' Palace of the Peaks' is an attraction that not only dominates the glorious Derbyshire countryside but which has succeeded in outpacing its rivals. It was the first country house, for example, to open a Farm Shop, which last year was rated the best in the country. It has also become a successful Hollywood star in its own right.

It figured prominently in the 2005 film of Pride And Prejudice starring Keira Knightley, which was quite fitting - when Jane Austen needed inspiration for Pemberley, the home of Mr Darcy, she had to look no further than Chatsworth which is actually referred to by name in her novel.

This year the house has had another Hollywood moment as an unlikely backdrop to The Wolfman, starring Anthony Hopkins.

Keira Knightley returned to Chatsworth in 2008 to film The Duchess in which she played the part of Georgiana, the first wife of William Cavendish, 5th Duke of Devonshire. The extraordinary story of Georgiana (compulsive gambler and tireless socialite) forms a key part of a new exhibition in Chatsworth devoted not only to her life but also to her tastes, reflected in displays of portraits, furniture and works of art that she commissioned or acquired, many not seen by visitors before.

At the centre of the display is the famous portrait of her by Thomas Gainsborough.

The painting mysteriously vanished from Chatsworth in the 19th Century, but later turned up in the home of an elderly schoolmistress who had lopped off the bottom half of the full-length portrait so that it would fit above her fireplace.

After the painting was found - by Allan Pinkerton of the famous Pinkerton's detective agency - it was put on display at London auctioneer's Agnew's. It was immediately stolen by the master criminal Adam Worth (who provided Sir Arthur Conan Doyle with the inspiration for Sherlock Holmes's nemesis Moriarty). Thankfully, the painting is now back in its rightful place at Chatsworth. But the unlikely connections between Chatsworth and the world of fiction don't stop there.

When I met the Duke in his study, he was cradling the fabulous Kniphausen Hawk, a 17th Century statuette made of silver and silver gilt and set with precious gemstones, which has been at Chatsworth since 1819. This extraordinary bird is said to have provided the inspiration for the priceless statuette at the heart of the intrigue in The Maltese Falcon, the 1941 movie which stars Humphrey Bogart.


The real deal: Thomas Gainsborough's portrait of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire


The Hawk takes pride of place in a completely new gallery created to display art and treasures from the vast Chatsworth collection. The new gallery is part of a £15million programme of renovations which has opened up more of the house to visitors.

Those arriving at Chatsworth next Sunday for the opening day of the new season will discover a new visitor route through the house that will reveal freshly restored rooms and elegant new displays not only celebrating the legendary Georgiana but also the 90th birthday of Deborah Devonshire, the present Dowager Duchess. She is the last surviving member of the famous Mitford sisters whose number included famous writer Nancy, society beauty Diana (who married British fascist leader Sir Oswald Mosley), Unity, who travelled to Berlin to pursue her devotion to Hitler, and communist Jessica.

Deborah's role in reviving the fortunes of Chatsworth has been immense. The Duke told me: 'She made the best of Chatsworth. Together with my father she turned it around. When they took it over it was a bit of a millstone but they turned it into a really successful, really popular place. My parents deserve all of the credit.'

While the Deborah exhibition inevitably reflects some of the Mitford history it also highlights her other passions, which include Elvis Presley. On view will be her cherished Elvis phone - Elvis swivels the famous pelvis at the touch of a button - and her authentic piece of Graceland, a length of garden fence presented to the Dowager Duchess by Elvis's former neighbour.

A more sombre American connection can be seen in the graveyard of St Peter's, the Chatsworth parish church. Here lies the body of JFK's sister Kathleen 'Kick' Kennedy, who in 1944 married William Cavendish, the heir to the Duke of Devonshire.

He was killed in action just four months later.

Kathleen died four years afterwards when the plane she was travelling in crashed in France. Five months before he was assassinated in Dallas, JFK came to Chatsworth to visit his sister's grave - and the present Duke vividly remembers the day the President came to the Peak District. He recalled: 'It was the only time I met him.

He landed by the church in a helicopter and visited his sister's grave. Then, in movie style, we all seemed to run to lots of cars to come back over here to lunch.

My parents were very fond of him.'


Shine of the times: The stately home has undergone a £15million facelift


Though the house is filled with all sorts of extraordinary history, the Duke's pressing task is to keep focused squarely on the future. He has personally overseen the £15million programme of restorations and improvements which will take Chatsworth to a new level as a tourist attraction. Innovations this year include access to the restored stone courtyard at the heart of the house, improved access facilities meaning far fewer stairs for all visitors, and a new lift giving full disabled access to all three floors of the house for the first time.

The Duke spends a lot of time chatting to visitors, finding out what they like and dislike about Chatsworth and what takes them there. He said: 'The thing that people really love is the whole landscape: not just the house or just the garden or just the farmyard but the whole place. You come into this beautiful park and even on a dull day it looks rather wonderful. People tell me they find it peaceful and intriguing.'

With the new season, the Duke feels optimistic having benefited last year from the 'staycation' effect.

'In terms of numbers of visitors, last year was good, attendance was well up - back to what it should have been after a tough year in 2008 because of bad summer weather,' he said.

'There is some doubt as to whether we will see people holidaying in Britain again this year but we will continue our marketing effort. As for new developments, we're always thinking about the next thing and the thing after that.'

It's a sign of Chatsworth's forward thinking that while there are plenty of rooms filled with old treasures, there is also a commitment to modern art: previous exhibitions have featured pieces by Damien Hirst and Marc Quinn.

I wondered what Chatsworth's original Tudor doyenne Bess of Hardwick would make of all the changes. 'She'd be delighted,' the Duke said, 'very happy that what she started is still going strong. It's amazing how it's endured --we've had lots of good luck.'

As someone arrives to return the Kniphausen Hawk back to its secure home, I think of a line from the Humphrey Bogart film that this bird inspired. As Kasper Gutman, played by Sydney Greenstreet, prepares to dispense with the services of Wilmer (Elisha Cook Jr), he says: 'I couldn't be fonder of you if you were my own son. But, well, if you lose a son, it's possible to get another. There's only one Maltese Falcon.'

And there ' s only one Chatsworth...


Meet the man of the house: The present Duke of Devonshire


All the fun of the country fairThroughout the year Chatsworth stages several key events including an Easter Eggstravaganza from April 2-11 and the annual Country Fair from September 3-5 - described by Alan Titchmarsh as the country's 'best outdoor show'.

There are international horse trials on May 15-16 and a Tudor Fair where you can try your hand at archery or sample Elizabethan cookery from May 19-31. New this year will be a spectacular Tulip festival, in conjunction with de Jager bulbs, running alongside the Florabundance floral celebration in the house, during six days from Saturday, May 1.

At the end of the year Chatsworth will be staging a Russian Christmas on the two lower floors of the house. There will also be seasonal shopping and food, special evening openings and gourmet feasts and live Nativity performances with animals from the farmyard. Chatsworth is open every day from March 14 to December 23, 2010.

A one-day Discovery ticket, which allows access to the house, garden and farmyard, costs £15.50 for adults and £9.50 for children (aged four-16 inclusive, under-fours free).

A family Discovery ticket (two adults, up to three children) costs £46.
More details at www.chatsworth.org.

source: dailymail

Chile earthquake: Santiago airport remains closed as tour operators cancel holidays

Split in two: A damaged apartment block in Concepcion, Chile, after Saturday's earthquake


The Foreign Office is warning Britons against 'all but essential travel' to the regions worst affected by the earthquake in Chile over the weekend.

The epicentre of the quake, which measured 8.8 on the Richter Scale and struck in the early hours of Saturday was some 30 miles off Chile's coast. The cities of Concepcion, Talca and the capital Santiago have seen the worst damage with 700 people already confirmed dead, a number that is expected to rise say Chilean officials.

Hundreds of thousands of people in 53 countries were evacuated from their homes and millions more put on alert after a tsunami from the quake raced across the Pacific.

The FCO website is advising that the regions of Maule and Biobio are currently 'states of catastrophe' and should be avoided by travellers. Phone links to The British Embassy in Santiago are down and Britons in Chile are being asked to 'follow the advice of the local authorities'.

Those due to travel to the country this week have been forced to change their plans as much of Chile's infrastructure, particularly south of Santiago, has been damaged with transport links, including the Pan-American Highway, severely affected.

The country has long been popular with independent travellers and backpackers with around 65,000 Britons visiting Chile every year.

The main gateway for flights, Santiago Airport, has been closed since the earthquake but there are reports that it may reopen later today. Iberia and LAN Chile, which both fly from the UK to Santiago via Madrid, have suspended flights as has American Airlines which flies from Miami.

Frances Tuke of ABTA, The Travel Association told TravelMail: "As far as we know there are only a few hundred Britons currently on holiday in Chile and our members are all reporting that they're safe and well in their hotels."

Adventure tour operator Explore has cancelled a 16-day 'Atacama to Paine' itinerary and elsewhere, cruises to the Galapagos Islands were also disrupted as the threat of a tsunami prevented boats from landing or anchoring off the islands.

Although aftershocks are still being felt across southern Chile, a giant tidal wave which could have spread as far as Australia, Hawaii, Philippines and Russia hasn't materialised although large waves have hit land - amateur video footage taken in Hawaii shows a beach being flooded.

Meanwhile, fears are growing for four British backpackers missing in Chile. Kirsty Duff and Dave Sandercock were on a surfing holiday round South America but have not been heard from since Thursday. They were in Pichilemu, a surf resort about three hours from Santiago, when it was rocked by the quake.


Missing: Kirsty Duff and Dave Sandercock both arrived in the surfing town of Pichilemu last week and have not contacted family since the quake


Kirsty’s cousin Clare Slipper, 19, said: 'We have not heard from them since Thursday. They arrived in Chile three weeks ago from Peru, and were living in the town, which is between the two cities badly affected by the earthquake.

'They are both really into surfing and had been travelling and they went there to surf. The good news is there have been no reported fatalities or casualties in the town.

'But it has been quite badly damaged and because we have not heard from them, the family is getting worried. We are just waiting to hear from the British Embassy in case there has been any news.'

Another couple, Andre Lanyon from Guernsey and Laura Hapgood, both 29, also went to Pichilemu on Friday.

For more information on the Chile earthquake, visit www.fco.gov.uk or call the Foreign and Commonwealth Office on +44 207 008 0000.




source: dailymail

Sicily: Sir Rocco Forte's new Verdura Golf & Spa Resort does luxury fit for families

By James Taylor

Top class: A villa at the Verdura Resort


With the white dining room sporting a very white, starched table cloth, white chairs and lovely white linen napkins, a frisson of parental smugness flickered across our faces as the main course was cleared.

The children were still clean and pink-cheeked; the baby was even in his white pyjamas with a bottle of milk.

What folly. Our nemesis was only minutes away. It came 'from the chef' in the shape of two scoops of chocolate ice cream - one per child - delivered by a kindly Sicilian waiter.

Never has so much chocolate been spread more liberally over more white materials in so little time. If you had filled a fire extinguisher with Nutella and fired it at the tablecloth, it might have been a prettier sight.

But the moral of the story is this: in the morning when we apologised to the restaurant manager for the devastation to his dining room, he giggled mischievously. 'Children are happier when they can make a mess,' he said, 'and we have to wash the linen anyway.'

This is the true greatness of Sir Rocco Forte's new retreat, the Verdura Golf and Spa Resort on the south coast of Sicily: it has successfully balanced the often contradictory requirements of offspring and five-star luxury.

It manages to embrace children into a holiday utopia immaculately fashioned from terracotta, limestone and wood over 570 acres of lawns, sand, wild herbs and orange groves alongside an emerald sea.


South coast beauty: The nearby bay of Scopello


Of the six tennis courts, eight swimming pools, nine restaurants and bars, 70 bicycles, 80 electric golf carts, 203 rooms and 14,000 fluffy towels, scarcely anything is out of bounds to junior members of the team - and all this without sacrificing a whisker of adult five-starriness.

As soon as guests cross the resort perimeter, the levels of pampering reach stratospheic proportions. The philosophy of Verdura is 'the art of simple luxury', but achieving that can sometimes be a complex matter.

As a new guest I found eight letters to read on arrival.

They were: 1: from the guest relations department about charges for extras; 2: from the resident manager about the clocks going back; 3: from the public relations manager offering resort tours; 4: from the spa manager alerting me to the special treatments; 5: from the golf manager inviting me to attend a clinic; 6: from the general manager advising me to 'get unforgettable your stay'; 7: from the general manager letting me know the dwarf palms, orange trees and orchids on the resort were as yet too young to flourish; and 8: from the general manager explaining the seaweed on the beach was to be celebrated.

Simple luxury can be technically challenging, too. After an indoor swim, the shower presented us with a dashboard of controls such as you might have imagined faced Neil Armstrong on Apollo 11.

By adjusting different settings for spray and lights, there were 81 potential varieties of pummelling and dreamlike dousing.


Room with a view: Olive groves stretch across the Sicilian countryside


Coming after four outdoor mineral pools, a sauna, hammam and lap pool, my brain was so overdosed with sensory delights, it began repeating words spied on the spa literature: 'entirely new holistic experience', 'optimal physical and mental balance', 'unparalleled luxury and serenity'.

For a fretful minute I worried that I might never be able to reenter the mortal zone, where you are required to perform tasks such as supermarket shopping, speaking nicely to traffic wardens and sweeping up Coco Pops. The Verdura Resort is a magnificent dream and a massive investment; a seven-year planning, design and construction labyrinth and by far the most luxurious holiday destination in Sicily.

The choice of Sicily is inspired; nowhere in Europe has a more fascinating history and culture, more delicious food and wine or better weather. The one obstacle to visitors from Britain - limited flights - has been fixed by Ryanair, easyJet and BA.


Short drive away: The Temple of Concordia is the best-preserved Greek temple in the world


From the Ryanair flight to Trapani, you can be in Verdura in around an hour. From the pool with your fresh basil, grape juice and gin cocktail, you can gaze a few miles over the sea to Sciacca (pronounced 'shakka'), once a celebrated Roman trading post with Africa and later the scene of the most bloodcurdling of medieval feuds during the course of which the Luna and Perollo clans slaughtered each other with boundless energy.


Exceptional golfing: Verdura has two 18-hole championship courses


A 40-minute drive in the other direction you can be sitting beside the best-preserved Greek temple in the world, the Temple of Concordia in Agrigento, almost exactly as it was 2,500 years ago. And 60 miles to the north lies the beautiful coastal village of Scopello.

The two main sports on offer at Verdura are tennis and golf. I put tennis coach Roberto to the test. A brilliant teacher, he let me to win a couple of points before asserting his skills in the sweltering heat.

For the golfer, Verdura is exceptional: two 18-hole championship courses meander like a green moat around the main conference centre and hotel.

They were designed by Kyle Phillips, the man behind Kingsbarns Links near St Andrews, and The Grove, Herts, and the director of golf is former European Tour player Niall Cameron.

Someone has thought about every childish need here: from the relaxed and attentive all-day children's club run by two ministering Angelas, to the toddlers' pool, free children's sunscreen, children's tea at 5.30pm and toddler-sized white fluffy dressing gowns in the bedrooms.

The largely Sicilian resort staff seem genuinely infected by a natural love of children that even the meticulous Forte training regime could never have instilled.


Luxury view: Relax with a cocktail looking out over the sea to Sciacca


A luxury resort is a haven from a world 'seared with trade, bleared, smeared with toil', as poet Gerard Manley Hopkins put it.

Yet it is precisely the way it fails that makes it so delightful. Just as no amount of planning or expense can prevent the wasps buzzing around your honeyed toast, nor can any amount of professional polish conceal the earthy friendliness of the Sicilian staff, nor prevent the gust of rustic life intruding into this earthly paradise.

Travel factsStay seven nights at the Verdura Golf and Spa Resort in a deluxe room and enjoy a second room for up to two children, aged four to 18, at a reduced rate.

From £4,930 for a family of four (two adults and two children), saving £2,520 per family. This includes seven nights' B&B and BA flights. Valid from March 1 to July 31, and September 1 to December 10. Seasons in Style (01244 202000, http://www.seasonsinstyle.com).


source: dailymail

Affordable Amsterdam: Cheap flights and hotel deals make this the time to go Dutch

By Fred Mawer

Awash with culture: The famed canal of Prinsengracht


It's low season in Amsterdam right now, and that means affordable flights and good deals in hotels. And even though it can still be a bit damp and chilly, the city's cafes offer the perfect refuge. Here's the Crafty Traveller's guide to the best-value hotels, and tips on how to save time and money getting around and sightseeing.


There's also a selection of great places to eat and drink - where you may well be the only tourist ...

Where to stayRates given here are the cheapest available in March for a double room, including the five per cent city tax. Use the hotels' websites to find the best deals.

Indulgent: Banks Mansion (00 31 20 420 0055, www.banksmansion.nl). An impressive amount of extras are included in the standard rates of this smart conversion of an early 20th Century bank, on one of the city's grandest canals. As well as breakfast, the rate includes unlimited access to the mini-bar and drinks decanters in your room, daytime and evening snacks and drinks at any time from the bar in the lobby. From £166.

Mid-range: Estherea (00 31 20 624 5146, www.estherea.nl). A classic, canal-side hotel, run by the same family since the Forties, it has characterful bedrooms and plush, relaxing lounges. Rooms from as little as £92 on Sundays and £101 on weekdays. The excellent breakfast costs £14 per person extra.

Budget: Hotel V Frederiksplein (00 31 20 662 3233, www.hotelv.nl). Trendy but friendly hotel just off the Canal Ring. The funky open-plan lounge/ breakfast/ bar area (note the cowhide walls) used to be a stationery shop, while the compact bedrooms look slick. Skip the cheapest as they're in the basement and rather dark; others cost from £83, including breakfast.


Masters up close: A visitor inspects a self-portrait of Van Gogh


Sight-seeingBest queue-avoiding tactic: Buy tickets in advance for the most popular museums. Even in the winter months, there can be hour-long waits to enter the Van Gogh Museum, Rijksmuseum and Anne Frank House. But if you buy tickets on the museums' websites (www.vangoghmuseum.nl, www.rijksmuseum.nl, www.annefrank.org), you get to go straight in. With the Anne Frank House, you have to specify the date and time you're going to visit, but with the others you don't. With all three museums, you need to be able to print off your 'e-ticket'. Note that better hotels will help you sort out advance tickets.

Best for evening art: The Van Gogh Museum. It stays open until 10pm on Fridays, and on these evenings there's always some additional entertainment in the main hall such as live music or a video installation, and the atmosphere is like being at a private viewing.

Best exhibition: The Hermitage Amsterdam. From March 6, this major new space for showcasing treasures from St Petersburg's State Hermitage Museum is displaying a world-class collection of early modern art.

Best (and most improbably located) free attraction: The Rijksmuseum's mini-exhibitions - in a specially constructed, raised pod at Schiphol airport. The paintings currently on show are Golden Age renditions of Italian landscapes. It's open daily, 7am-8pm.


Memorial: Statue of Anne Frank stands in the city


Where to eatBest lunch: De Bakkerswinkel (www.debakkerswinkel.nl), at Warmoesstraat 69. This long, thin bakery-cum-cafe is a breath of health on a rather seedy street just off the red-light district, serving fantastic quiches and fruit shakes.

Best tea: De Taart van m'n Tante (www.detaart.com), at Ferdinand Bolstraat 10. 'The Cake of my Aunt' tearoom is kitsch in the extreme and great fun, with overblown cake displays everywhere, plus mismatched furniture and crockery.

Best affordable dinner: Cafe Loetje (www.cafeloetje.nl), at Johannes Vermeerstraat 52. Under ten minutes' walk from Museumplein but devoid of tourists, this pubby restaurant is invariably packed, due to its fantastic, thick steaks, which cost £19 with chips and a salad. No reservations are taken, so if you don't want a wait, get there early.

NightlifeAmstersdam has all sorts of different places to drink, including brown cafes (something like a very traditional English pub), grand cafes (big, often dramatically designed spaces, with a laid-back atmosphere) and trendy bars.

Best brown cafe: 't Smalle, at Egelantiersgracht 12 in the Jordaan - snug, with a gleaming, low-slung bar, candles on tables and, in the warmer months, a dreamy canal-side terrace.

Best grand cafe: 1e Klas, hidden away on Platform 2B of Centraal Station (no ticket required to reach it). Lavishly decorated with linen-fold panelling and painted ceilings, the cafe was once the station's first-class waiting rooms.

Most unusual bar: MiNiBAR at Prinsengracht 478. You get a key to your own minibar, help yourself to what you want, and mix your own drinks.
Best place for discounted tickets: The Last Minute Ticket Shop on the Leidseplein which, from noon to 7.30pm daily, sells day-of-performance tickets at half price. Performances appropriate for non-Dutch speakers are marked LNP - language no problem.

Best avoidedThe red-light district at night time. If you're curious, go earlier in the day when the atmosphere is less intimidating. I also wouldn't bother with the much-vaunted but soulless flea market on Waterlooplein. The Saturday farmers' market on the Noordermarkt is much more friendly and scenic, and great for picking up Dutch cheeses. And Winkel, the cafe on the corner of the Noordermarkt, serves the best apple pie in town.

Travel factsEasyJet (www.easyjet.com) has the widest choice of low-cost flights to Amsterdam, from eight UK airports. The Amsterdam Tourist Board's website, www.iamsterdam.com, is excellent. For yet more information and advice on Amsterdam, visit www.simonseeks.com.



source: dailymail

Buzzing Bangkok: A busy, dizzy city where charm and kindness rule the streets

By Mark Palmer

Bright and beautiful: Bangkok is always busy, particularly during a lotus festival, when flowers are thrown at a Buddha image


Bangkok is such a fast and furious city that one false move seems bound to result in disaster - but not necessarily. On our first morning, I forgot to remove my credit card from a hole-in-the-wall machine and went on my way.


Minutes later, two teenagers sprinted after me, one brandishing my piece of plastic as though it were the key to life. In London, I would have been the one doing the sprinting to prevent the finders-keepers brigade from cleaning up.

And that got me thinking. Take away the polite, honest and dignified people of this huge, sprawling metropolis and you might not be left with much to write home about.

It's not especially pretty (not until you explore life in the canals or klongs), traffic is perpetually choked and at times much of the city is colonised by gap-year boys and girls as they set off on the well-worn route through Asia.

But it's impossible to separate a city from its people. That's why Thailand's capital deserves to be called the City of Angels and why it warrants far more praise than it gets.

During our three-day visit we came across some of the gentlest, kindest people you could meet. And left feeling extraordinarily relaxed, despite scampering around in a manner that seemed at odds with the Buddhist teachings to which the vast majority of locals subscribe.

But it's not hard to feel relaxed when staying at the Mandarin Oriental on the banks of the Chao Phraya river, otherwise known as the River of Kings. This colonial-era hotel has played host to everyone from Somerset Maugham (who arrived with malaria and heard the manager say that a death would be bad for business), Noel Coward, Graham Greene and Barbara Cartland, who has a room named and decorated after her - in shocking pink, naturally.

From the moment we were greeted in traditional wai style - with hands raised as though in prayer - we were enveloped by a warmth and attention to detail that was humbling. The food and service were second to none.

There seemed to be at least two weddings a day in the Author's Wing, and perhaps these ceremonies helped foster a sense of romance. Certainly, you would be hard pushed to find a more seductive setting for dinner than on the terrace, where the lights of passing pleasure craft twinkle until the early hours.


Dazzling: The Wat Arun (Temple of Dawn) towers over it's surroundings


But we were looking for simpler fare on our first night and found it at Harmonique less than a tenminute walk away. On our way there we called in at a silk shop called Sophia, where we ordered made-to-measure shirts for around £40 and had a suit made for less than £200, which I picked up 24 hours later.

Harmonique provides the freshest sea food at remarkable prices. We ate and drank spectacularly well for £20 a head and toured the city afterwards in a cab. Our driver spoke no English but did a good job gesticulating when we came to something interesting and charged only £5 for an hour.

Next morning, we met our guide and driver for sightseeing. We managed a brief stop in frenetic Chinatown, the world's largest outside China, mainly because of a huge influx during the Opium Wars some 150 years ago.

It was no less busy at the Grand Palace, and our experience was enlivened by alarm over King Bhumibol Adulyadej's health. The world's longest serving monarch will be 83 in December and although he has no direct political role, he is held with a reverence verging on worship.

He is largely credited with holding the nation together during the political turbulence of the past few years, which have seen a military coup and the fall of prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra.

King Bhumibol was admitted to hospital in September, sparking rumours about his future. The jitters were made worse by worries about the suitability of Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn, although you won't find many Thais prepared to voice such concerns. The Royal Family is protected by a lèsemajesté law, which punishes those who insult the monarchy.


A tale of two cities: Bangkok boasts high rise modernity alongside extreme poverty, but the people are dignified


The Grand Palace was built in 1782 and covers a vast area. The highlight is the Royal Monastery of the Emerald Buddha, where you remove your shoes and marvel at the Buddha carved from a block of green jade.

'Think of positive things and even if there is negativity in your life you must embrace it,' said our guide.

Later, my wife expressed a desire to see the red light district.

'You want to see a show?' said our taxi driver. 'What kind of show?' we asked. 'Every kind of show,' he said. 'I take you.' We found ourselves outside a building that appeared locked. Next door young girls were parked on a bench. 'You buy tickets here.' We made our excuses and left.

A friend had said we could not leave Bangkok without taking a long-tail boat and exploring the klongs that pass houses on stilts. We saw a great deal of poverty, chameleons sunning themselves on terraces and huge amounts of enterprise.

Above all, we saw the smiling, proud faces of people of all ages and felt privileged to observe them. Here, we made our excuses - and stayed as long as we possibly could.


Travel Facts

The Ultimate Travel Company (020 7386 4646 www.theultimatetravelcompany.co.uk) can tailor-make a four-night stay at the Mandarin Oriental, Bangkok from £1,210pp. Thai Airways flights from Heathrow, VIP fasttrack meet-and-greet service on arrival, private transfers and private guided sightseeing with car and driver, visiting the Grand Palace.


source: dailymail

Budget skiing in Aspen: How to enjoy Colorado's slopes for a few dollars less

By Neil English

Star destination: Aspen is favoured by celebrities including Mariah Carey but it can be done on a shoestring too


A few days in Aspen - now that's got to be a treat, I thought. Five-star luxury, rubbing shoulders with celebrities while meandering the affluent streets of this former mining town nearly 8,000ft up in Colorado's Rockies, perusing art galleries and fashion boutiques, agonising between a margarita or a martini in swanky bars and delighting in exquisite cuisine - what's not to like?

I knew I'd slot seamlessly into this exotic lifestyle and make the most of living the 'I've made it' dream.

Heck, even the slopes get spa-like treatment - so meticulously buffed that the snow is gossamer-soft and the surface as true as an Olympic-quality ice-dancing rink.

All the above is normally true but, as I discovered, there is another side to Aspen, a shockingly inexpensive, unglamorous, hard graft side.

For a start, this way you don't even fork out for a lift pass because you walk up the mountain.

Some of our 16-strong party used snow shoes, others, including myself, used touring skis which have easily removable synthetic skins on their bases enabling us to push uphill without sliding back, simulating the action of seal skins used in the pioneering days by skiing explorers.

We also had combination ski bindings, meaning when in uphill mode you can release the heel binding to more easily effect a walking motion. Then when skiing downhill, it can be clicked back into place.

Our destination was Margy's Hut, one of 17 huts built by the US Army's 10th Mountain Division dotted across the central Rockies, the first few huts funded by relatives of loved ones killed in the Second World War.

The snowy trail-head started a few miles out of Aspen from a village called Lenado at an altitude of 8,640ft just past the old, bohemian community of Woody Creek where the colourful writer Hunter S. Thompson lived and eventually took his own life five years ago.


Back to basics: Neil heads into backcountry where a sobering sign gives a grim warning


The seemingly endless uphill trudge, with a backpack containing food, water, toothbrush, change of clothes and mandatory avalanche safety equipment such as probe, transceiver and shovel, took me nearly five-and-a-half hours.

I didn't sit down once as I was so fatigued I thought I would fall into a deep sleep. The altitude, exhaustion and jet lag combined to make me rather confused but I kept going and the eventual sight of the basic, rustic hut at 11,300ft was such a relief it might as well have been a palace.

This palace didn't have central heating but it did have a wood stove which we surrounded with our sweaty boots, leaving them to dry.

We filled the large cauldron on top with snow to make water. On the kitchen gas stove, the heroic ladies in our group cooked up a spag bol fit for royalty and we all gobbled it with silent, grateful relish.

There are no baths or showers and the outside toilet, 20 yards down an icy track, was grim.

But even with the simplicity of our accommodation, the symphony of aromas from the boots, the mattress-to-mattress dorm-style sleeping and inevitable chorus of snoring, it was the magnificence and remoteness of our location, the effort it took to get here, the clarity of the stars and the camaraderie that made this experience something I will definitely seek more of.


Homely: The Woody Creek Tavern used by Hunter S. Thompson where locals are on hand to recount the stories about the journalist and author's life


After skiing down next day we stopped at the Woody Creek Tavern. I wanted to see the old, wooden bar and restaurant which was Hunter S. Thompson's favourite hangout.

Among the paraphernalia on the walls is a poster from when Hunter wanted to become sheriff. He didn't get elected but did have a lot of support for his legalise-practically-everything policies!

A few feet away is a picture of him with a handwritten letter to the Tavern owners apologising for letting off a smoke bomb inside.

A bath later that afternoon in Aspen's funky Sky Hotel was sooooo good. Then a dip in the outside heated pool and soak in the elevated hot tub with margarita in hand. Finally I was living the Aspen lifestyle I had dreamed of.

The 45-minute hike to the top of the bowl above Aspen Highland's ski lift system, for a wonderful off-piste descent, seemed like child's play after my five-hour ordeal.

The reward is not just the skiing but the lunch at Cloud 9, the best on-mountain food of any of Aspen's four separate skiing mountains.

After a great osso bucco of elk lunch, most tables were ordering shots of all things super-alcoholic.

Then, as the DJ music got louder, tables were cleared from the centre and a scaffold pole was brought in and fixed from floor to ceiling, allowing skiers and snowboarders of all ages to show their prowess as pole-climbers with willing male hands helping the women upwards.

Our party left just as management were bringing out the whipped cream. Only in Aspen!
Travel facts
Ski Independence (0131 243 8097, www.ski-i.com) offer a wide range of accommodation in Aspen to suit all budgets and tastes.

Seven nights' B&B in early March at the four-star Sky Hotel, including return flights from Heathrow to Denver with British Airways (www.ba.com) and transfers, costs from £1,809pp.

For information on backcountry hut trips, visit www.aspenexpeditions.com. Margy's Hut costs from £350 per night and can sleep up to 16.


source: dailymail

A sailing holiday around Cahors on France's Lot River

By Nick Roe

Bridge of sighs: The striking Pont Cahors cuts across the Lot


Half way through my wine tasting session on the sunny banks of the River Lot, I asked our vineyard host whether it was acceptable to drink and drive a boat in this part of France. Bernard Bouyssou offered a short answer. 'Pfft!' he said.

'Pfft!' is the Gallic equivalent of 'Do me a favour' and sums up the nature of all life here in the tranquil Lot Valley, where visiting boaters rule the waves and locals waive the rules.

The Lot doesn't scream tourism so much as murmur the word with some grace, so after testing eight varieties of heavy red, in the blistering sunshine at Bernard's riverside Chateau Armandiere, my small party re-boarded our floating wine-shack - and motored meanderingly back upstream.

It was a moving moment, on that first morning when I awoke on board our jolly boat Salsa, moored at the village of Douelle, and simply stared out across the water. A sheet of shimmering mist hovered just above the river and the thin silver line of a weir's edge stretched right across the glass-like water to walls of a formidable lock.

Stone houses squatted bankside and the silence was profound as a reddish sun rose over vineyards. A quick trip to the boulangerie; a croissant breakfast on a dewy deck and we were off. Putter-putter-put.

The Lot, France's seventh-longest river, slicing east to west well inland from Bordeaux, carries no commercial traffic and the landscape is achingly rural. Boating around the sweet little town of Cahors is filled with this kind of detail and small drama, and genuine French colour.

That wine-tasting came on the first morning - a downstream trip to begin. Then we turned round and passed Douelle again, heading upstream and east. Lovely views, greetings from other boaters and the comfort of a case of wine and a larder crammed with fine market food down below.

Our first night was spent in Cahors - 22,000 people held within a wide meander. We moored on grassy banks near the most elegant bridge in France, the stonily turreted Pont Valentre. It's a small town, yet walking its tight streets with English guide Susan Baxter (who's lived here for 17 years) was intriguing.


Street life: The rural markets offer everything from fruit and vegetables to over 300 different cheeses


The medieval quarter on the eastern side is riddled with small shops, cafes and restaurants. Gloomy passages offer a tiny glimpse of history and human activity. In the market square near the 12th-century cathedral, for instance, we found Marty the dairy man surrounded by a raucous flutter of stalls, offering at least 300 varieties of cheese.

Calling at the small village of Vers, four hours upstream, I met English artists Sally and Jeffery Stride, who live near the water, their garden ablaze with flowers.

They told me how they fetched up here in the Seventies, but their van broke down so they stayed.

The local mayor was so impressed by their artistic credentials he gave them a flat to live in free; so they settled in the valley and raised three children. Their river paintings not only sell to locals and visitors but also hang in Downing Street and the Elysee Palace; not bad for a couple of van-driving hippies.

Mooring at villages was free; 'Stay as long as you like!' said a passer-by and good restaurants were everywhere, with dinner at around £25 a head. La Truite Doree, in Vers, was probably the jolliest.

But the main point of boating holidays is the water itself.

That's where much of the small-time drama came in as we dashed into locks, narrowly missed other boats, or sometimes didn't. The best accident I saw involved a bunch of Britons charging into the mooring at Vers forgetting that they'd laid out a dinner table on the top deck - and that the trees under which they were passing were, in fact, very low indeed.

Watching an entire table of crockery being swept, broken and jangling, into the water while locals applauded wildly was an evil joy. How did we ever rule those waves?


Lovely Lot: Saint Cirque Lapopie is a towering medieval village overlooking the river and very popular with tourists


Finally, we arrived at St Cirque Lapopie, a towering, medieval village clinging to rocks overlooking the Lot, the high water mark of our upstream journey.

It's so exquisitely preserved, it attracts huge numbers of tourists, so one moment I was eating purple figs plucked from wild trees; next there was a deluge of English voices and someone in a cafe playing Purple Rain on a guitar.

Later that evening, the crowds vanished and I was left drinking fenelon, a local aperitif (Cahors red wine, cassis, with a dash of walnut liquor) in silky dark silence.

On my final morning, I borrowed a bike and cycled four miles to the Pech Merle Caves a little inland where guides took us deep into the limestone to view the 25,000-year-old paintings.

They told me a couple of local lads discovered the ancient artwork by accident in 1922; and in the gloom, I imagined their delight, running home to tell their parents what treasures they'd found in the depths of the Lot valley. I felt pretty similar, in fact, cycling back to the boat; casting off, heading back to Douelle.

Travel Facts
A week's cruising, based on a boat sleeping ten, starts at £1,640. Hoseasons (0844 847 1100, www.hoseasons.co.uk). Flybe flies from London to Bergerac (0871 700 2000, www.flybe.com) from £112 return.



source: dailymail

Incredible Ireland: Driving the Ring of Kerry on an adventure around the Emerald Isle

Kerry good show: County Kerry is packed with wonderful sights, including the Gap Of Dunloe

'Are we in the part of Ireland that England owns?' asked my six-year-old as we wind along country lanes lined with yellow gorse, hedgerows overtaken by red fuchsia and past woodland ferns and waterfalls.

'This is magical,' cry the children in chorus. It's love at first sight. I remember feeling like that, too, when I first went to Ireland as a child - the warmth of the people, the chill of the mist, the rambling wildness so different from the manicured, pretty parts of England that I knew.

We were doing half of the Ring of Kerry in our travels, driving to the furthest point (37 miles away), then retracing our journey with a different stop each night, providing the children with short car journeys and long spells in the fresh air.

Parknasilla, where we start, was described by George Bernard Shaw after his visit in 1909 as 'part of our dream world'. A century later, nothing has changed. Surrounded by 500 acres of woodland and seashore, there are seven walking routes through forests, along beaches and past lush, subtropical vegetation, thanks to the Gulf Stream. Wonderful - especially with the ready wit of hall porter P. J. (Patrick Joseph, of course), our guide.

Sneem, just down the road, is a quintessential Irish village. Brightly painted houses and shops surround a green, the church overflows on Sundays and the best black pudding in the world is made by butcher Peter O'Sullivan.

Heading towards Kenmare, you pass the turning to the Eclipse Centre - stables where you can go on horseback to explore 90 acres of land, some of it bordering the Blackwater river. You can also try archery, fishing and quad surfing.

At Sheen Falls Lodge, we are greeted by the roar of the Sheen River cascading over the rocks just under the hotel, and a roaring fire.

The hotel's position is sublime, with the falls thundering away and the blue of Kenmare Bay glimpsed through the trees. Just to the right is Sheen Bridge, dating from 1777, its beautiful arches of stone reflected in still waters.

A couple of jumps disturbing the deep pool give us hope of fishing for salmon. My six-year-old son deftly puts prawns on the hook while my eight-year-old daughter goes off picking wild flowers.

But what the children love best is the Seafari - a seal-watching expedition out to the Kenmare River Marine Park, sheltered between the Breara and Iveragh mountain peninsulas. There are grey and common seals at this rookery, which had 50 new pups last year. A former marine biologist comes out daily and can get close to the seals in his boat without frightening them. They're a joy to watch in their natural surroundings.

Unusually for Ireland, Kenmare has more restaurants than bars, but the food at The Park Hotel at the top of the town is so good we don't venture out.

The food is just one of the strengths of the hotel, built in 1897 to break the journey for rail passengers travelling to Parknasilla; another is its superlative Samas spa.

Meaning 'indulgence of the senses', it allows you to do just that with gorgeous treatments. Our last stop, Aghadoe Heights had a wonderful spa and views over Lough Lein.

From here, mythological lovers Oisin and Niamh 'went west' to Tir na nOg 'the land of eternal youth'.

Maybe my children will come back one day, like me, in search of just that.

Travel Facts
Doubles at the Parknasilla Resort from £112 per night (00353 64 667 5600, www.parknasillahotel.ie). For more information, see Discover Ireland (www.discoverireland.ie).


source: dailymail

Travel bargains at root of parents taking term-time family holidays

A summer holiday in October? Parents finding it hard to resist cut-price deals face truancy fines as councils get tough.

Price wars between airlines and holiday companies could be to blame for an increase in the number of families taking term-time holidays.

Parents tempted by bargain off-peak deals are facing stiffer punishment as councils crack down on truancy. Fixed penalties handed out for absenteeism in schools has increased by up to 50 per cent in some areas of England, a survey by BBC Online has revealed.

After illness, family holidays are the second biggest reason that children are not in school. Under the current law, parents can receive a £50 fine for child truancy, rising to £100 if not paid within 28 days

Research into England's 20 largest local councils found that the number of fines issued this academic year were already up by 10 per cent since September. And Liverpool saw the biggest clampdown, with a rise from 77 fines handed out over the autumn term of 2008 to 116 for the same period last year.


A price war between low cost airlines at Liverpool John Lennon Airport has seen more families tempted by off peak deals.


It's estimated that ten per cent of school days are lost nationally because of children going on family breaks.

The economic downturn is being blamed for the rise in truancy as tour operators and airlines have slashed prices to keep people travelling.

Low cost airlines at Liverpool's John Lennon Airport have constantly undercut each other in a battle to win business, which is said to be tempting families to take advantage of breaks that fall outside of the school holidays.

If savings are significantly higher than the £50 fine, then many parents are prepared to jet away and face the consequences.

Liverpool's chief attendance officer Ron Collinson said: “We see some families taking holidays two or three times a year.

"They always seem to take them at key times for the schools, when we're trying to settle them into new environments or they even take them at times that coincide with exams."

At present, individual schools have the discretion to say yes or no to parents wishing to keep children away from school for special reasons.


source: dailymail

Canada's Yonge Street: Driving the world's longest road through the rugged wild west

By Martin Symington

Yonge St stretches all the way from downtown Toronto to Canada's National Parks, such as Yellow Canoe in Algonquin Park in Ontario


Standing on the Lake Ontario quayside in Toronto's glitzy downtown district, I could only wonder what Sir George Yonge would have thought of the street named in his honour making it into the Guinness Book of Records.

With its stylish boutiques and historic theatres dwarfed by glass-and-steel skyscrapers, this end of Yonge (pronounced 'young') Street looked like many other principal shopping arteries in famous cities.

'Where does it lead to?' I asked people on their way to work.

'Right outta town into the backa beyond,' reckoned one.

'Thunder Bay,' guessed another. 'You tell me,' said a bemused third. For the record, Canada's most famous (though not best understood) street, is the world's longest. It leaves Toronto to stream across forest wilderness and skirt the Great Lakes before tracing an arc over the prairies of northern Ontario and ending 1,178 miles away at Rainy River on the U.S. border.

Yonge Street may not be celebrated in song like America's Route 66, but, as the Toronto-based friend who invited me to join a four-day journey in his Mercedes put it: 'To drive its whole length is to follow the brush strokes of an amazing impression of the real Canada.'

I had always thought of the railways as the sinews of Canada's nationhood. It was a captivating idea.

Leaving Toronto, Yonge Street morphed first into demented Highway 11, as a phalanx of cars and trucks zigzagged around us. Happily, six lanes soon became four, then two, as the city gave way to expanses of silver birch and sugar maple splintered by swirling rivers.

As the forests and glassy lakes rolled by, I began to sense just how huge Canada is. Ontario - just one province - is nearly the size of France, Germany and Italy put together.

I tried to picture how this terra incognita must have looked to Sir George Yonge, British Secretary of War and a member of Upper Canada's Parliament in the late 18th century.

The highway was built on top of Algonquin Indian trails to provide military access to the Great Lakes in case of an invasion from the U.S. after independence.


A Yonge Street Sign in Downtown Toronto. The street grew in size alongside the growth of Canada itself


As Canada was settled, Yonge Street advanced east to west, making accessible ever expanding swathes of country - preserves, in those days, of the people nowadays referred to as 'First Nation', and a few fearless hunters and beaver trappers.

The road we drove is still the route into wilderness areas such as the Algonquin National Park, though today's fur-capped and lumber-jacketed folk who come here to hunt, fish and paddle canoes into the wilds, do so for

leisure. As the vastness of Canada unfurled further, I recalled how, years ago when driving a camper van across America with some fellow students, we used to trap locks of our long hair in the window, so we would be woken with a sharp tug when irresponsible young heads began to nod.

The safety features of our swish Mercedes were rather more subtle about keeping us on the straight and narrow: the steering wheel would vibrate in simulation of a rumble strip if it sensed I was straying too far towards the middle of the road.

And when it really reckoned the driver was losing focus, a steaming hot beverage would flash on the dash.

Thank goodness for Tim Hortons. Canada's ubiquitous coffee and doughnut chain punctuates Yonge Street and provided us with tricky choices such as between the sticky Maple Dip or the crunchy Honey Cruller (my tip, have both). The original Mr Horton was a hockey star from the small town of Cochrane, on Yonge Street.

His life is celebrated in a tiny museum at the local rink, where we watched a game between padded giants on ice - another spectacle without which no tour of Canada would be complete.

The town's mascot is a polar bear, though the only live specimens are a captive pair - Nanuk and Bisitek - whom I was lured into 'swimming with', as we eyeballed each other through a glass wall at the Cochrane Polar Bear Habitat and Heritage Village.

We slept that night at the Station Inn, which is also the ticket office for the daily 'Polar Bear Express' that chugs up to Moosonee, a Cree Indian town on the edge of James Bay.

It is a long way north, but in truth still far from the nearest polar bear habitat.

Yonge Street runs close to the Quebec border for a hundred miles or so, so it should not have been such a surprise to me that Ontario towns such as Cochrane are bilingual, while others such as Kapuskasing are almost entirely French-speaking.

Just as the Algonquin and Cree communities reminded me this country was once the domain of a different culture altogether, so I mused that a journey through Canada without its French element would be incomplete.

Despite signs warning of 'Moose on the Loose' and hunters with rifles strapped to their quad bikes, the giant creatures and potent symbols of the great Canadian outdoors proved elusive.

The roadside flying saucer and UFO visitor centre in the enchanted- sounding town of Moonbeam, on the other hand, were all too real.

Resident Alice Follet told us tales of 'glowing lights hovering in the night sky - we have seen them, others in Moonbeam have seen them. We cannot explain it. Whatever anybody believes, these chilling phenomena exist.' Curiouser and curiouser, as another Alice once said.

Then there was the town of Swastika. Yes, Swastika. I did a double-take as we approached the workaday blue signboard announcing a place apparently named after the inescapable symbol of the Third Reich.

'No, no, no, nothing of the kind!' laughed resident Melissa Newton. She seemed touchingly proud of this gold mining town 'named - before the National Socialists even existed - after an ancient Sanskrit symbol.'

Nevertheless, I have since discovered that the miners fought a fierce battle with the Ontario government to retain the name during the 1940s. These days, it is about all the nondescript little town has to attract interest from Yonge Street passers-by.

Beyond Thunder Bay and the Lake Superior shoreline, we passed the Arctic Watershed to the Atlantic, shifted a time zone, and entered a completely different scene and tempo.

Here, the prairie was as wide and flat as you can imagine - skies and unbroken horizons so huge we could sense the globe curving. The Rainy River bridge and border post, beyond which the road loses itself in Minnesota, finally marks the end of Yonge Street.

'Does it rain much here? I inquired of Linda Russell, a local, in the bar of the Canadian Northern Hotel.

'A lotta people ask me that,' she sighed. 'Yeah, pretty much.'

However, outside I gazed west to a crimson sun bleeding into cloud formations that looked tantalisingly like mountains.

As I fantasised about the distant crags and glaciers of the Rockies, I could only reflect that this drive from the thrum of city traffic to the swish of winds across the prairies had been right up my street.

Travel Facts

7Canada (020 8776 8709, frontiercanada.co.uk) offers a ten-night, fly-drive holiday for £1,650 per person based on two sharing. The price includes flights from Heathrow on Air Canada (0871 220 1111, aircanada.com), moderate hotels and car hire with unlimited mileage.


source: dailymail

Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland set to boost Oxford's tourist trail

Tim Burton's mind-bending take on Alice in Wonderland is released in March.


Oxford's tourism authority is hoping that the film will reignite interest in the the city where Lewis Carroll's orginal books, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865) and Alice through the Looking Glass (1871), were set.

Lewis Carroll was the pseudonym for Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, a maths academic who attended Christ Church at Oxford University in 1851. He based the character of Alice on Alice Liddell, the daughter of his college dean.

Fantastical Hollywood director Tim Burton's latest offering, Alice in Wonderland, is set to bring tourists flocking to the locations that inspired the original book's author Lewis Carroll.

The Walt Disney film, to be released on March 5th, sees Burton favourite Johnny Depp and the director's wife, Helena Bonham Carter, reunited on screen as the Mad Hatter and the Red Queen.


Lewis Carroll based the character of Alice on the daughter of his Dean at Christ Church College, Oxford University.

The city already has an Alice trail for interested visitors which highlights key locations in Carroll's books and officials are optimistic new fans will enjoy the historic locations.

“Alice and Lewis Carroll are an absolute asset to Oxford and a key part of the Oxford brand," Colin Cook, executive member for the city centre, told the Oxford Mail.

“The Alice story is intimately associated with the city and many of the things that inspired him are still around. You can still see the treacle well in Binsey village and the fireguards in the hall at Christ Church.

"The Jabberwocky tree is also still in Christ Church and Alice and her sisters could see it from the Dean’s lodgings.“

The film recreates the story of Alice, who flees a party in pursuit of a white rabbit which takes her to Wonderland. Young actress Mia Wasikowska plays Alice and Stephen Fry appears as the Cheshire Cat. Michael Sheen and comedian Matt Lucas also star.

Tourism manager for the city council, Joanne Butler, said: “At the moment we run the Alice tour several times a month, but we will increase that frequency when demand picks up.

“The new film is bound to increase the number of people coming to Oxford to find out more about Alice and Lewis Carroll.

“Christ Church is one of the main locations on the two-hour tour and we also visit Christ Church Meadow, and the Museum of Natural History because of the Dodo connection.”

It wouldn't be the first time Christ Church College has enjoyed the attentions of movie fans. The college has appeared several times in the Harry Potter films.


source: dailymail

I'm A Celebrity detox: Queensland's rainforest and Australia's ancient tribes are a reality antidote

By John Carter

World heritage site: The mouth of the Daintree River in north Queensland


For a holidaymaker, waiting at an airport for a delayed flight is an occasional inconvenience. For a travel writer, it's an occupational hazard. But if you have to wait, the terminal building at Cooktown Airport is as good a place as any to while away the time.

Cooktown is in the north of Queensland, Australia. Its airport isn't so much an airport as a field with a single runway, and the terminal building isn't so much a terminal building as a Portakabin with ambition.

But it has its charms. I knew the flight would be delayed when the chap driving the transfer bus pulled over to take a call on his mobile and announced to his three passengers that 'the Dash 8 has gone technical, so they're sending up a Cessna, but it'll take a little time to get that organised'

After which he drove sedately to the airport, unloaded our luggage, weighed it - and us - took our tickets, handed out our boarding passes, loaded the luggage on to a trolley and pushed it towards the gate in the fence. Cooktown Airport is also a monument to multi-tasking.

Sitting on a wooden bench on the veranda overlooking the field and its fringe of trees, I relaxed in the gentle sunshine of a May morning and reflected on the delay I'd experienced several days earlier at Heathrow. That hadn't been caused by anything 'going technical' but simply because Heathrow is so busy that the slightest hitch to one flight affects those that follow.

Let's return to Queensland. Not to that sunlit veranda at Cooktown Airport but to a large tract of land several miles to the north, a huge area of sandstone escarpments, rainforest and scrub which is the ancestral territory of the Guugu-Yimithirr people. They are one of two Aboriginal nations - the Kuku Yalanji is the other - who have lived in the south-east corner of Cape York for tens of thousands of years.

For reasons we needn't dwell on, I wanted to spend some contemplative time in the Australian bush and was lucky enough to spend part of it in the company of Willie Gordon, an elder and storyteller of one of the clans that make up the Guugu-Yimithirr. It was a heartening and humbling experience, for the reality of outback Australia is a world away from the travesty that television presents as a setting for cavorting 'Celebrities'.


Local insight: John Carter meets Aboriginal elder Willie Gordon

Walking with Willie Gordon, listening to his tribal stories, his explanation of ancient rock art and his dissertations on the uses of various shrubs and plants, I came to understand something of the philosophy of the oldest people on the planet.

We talked about all manner of things as the day wore on. Of life and death and destiny and what control we can exercise over the last of that trio. Willie showed me a plant that, when rubbed between the palms, turns into soap. Another from which drinkable water can be obtained. At his invitation, I tasted a handful of tiny lemon ants and listened to his explanation of how nourishment is provided by them and by a variety of plants and shrubs.

Many of the early settlers died of hunger and thirst when they were surrounded by food and water - if only they had known where to look.

My Queensland trip had other memorable moments. Checking in to a luxurious spa hotel in the heart of the Daintree rainforest, I discovered I was the only guest.

As it had been something of a last-minute booking, did I mind if they carried on with the planned maintenance work the next day? Of course not, I replied, and was promptly whisked off for a complimentary - and compensatory - 'treatment'.

This involved wattle wood oil and sea salt, ylang ylang and ' soulhealing sacred earth', and a severe pummelling by a New Zealand lady named Stephanie who had very aggressive thumbs. I think it did me good.

I don't know much about spas, but I reckon the Daintree Eco Lodge deserves all the nice things the experts say about it. Its 15 lodges are located in 30 acres of the World Heritage-listed Daintree National Park and the food is excellent, too - kangaroo steak and crocodile in tortellini being a speciality.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of chainsaws as the intrusive forest was 'maintained'. On my way to breakfast, I spotted Stephanie in her skivvies on a flat roof, doing some industrial-strength sweeping and keeping those thumbs in trim.

The reason for the trip north from Brisbane was to sample some of the tourism projects run by Native Australians. Which is how I came to be with Willie Gordon and, on my way to him, with Linc and Brandon Walker in the mangroves that fringe the wide sands of Cooya Beach, a little north of Port Douglas.


The real outback: Crossing Emmagen Creek at the start of the Bloomfield Track


They tried to teach me how to throw a spear, but with little success. But that didn't matter because as far as I was concerned, it was their knowledge of the mangroves and the shoreline that fascinated me. And, of course, there was Cooktown.

I got there by way of the Bloomfield Track, something of an adventure in itself.

Back in 1965, one man and a bulldozer cleared a track north from Cape Tribulation to the Bloomfield River, taking just three weeks to cover 20 miles.

It wasn't until the Eighties that a further 28 or so miles were cleared to link Bloomfield to the Black Mountain National Park and the main road to Cooktown. That took much longer because of what our driver called 'conservation issues', and what one of my fellow passengers called 'bloody tree-huggers'. This is four-wheel-drive territory - preferably with somebody else doing the driving. Steep gradients, unforgiving rocks, the encroaching forest and streams to be forded mean you can't take your eyes off the road for an instant.

'Did you know the Daintree is the oldest rainforest in the world?' asked one of my companions as we jolted down towards a wide river bed. I grunted. 'It's 65million years older than the Amazon,' he added, as we sloshed through the water. I grunted again.

We finally hit Mulligan Highway's bitumen for the last few miles to Cooktown - a destination that justified every bounce and bump of the journey. A laid-back seaside community-with a crop of comfortable hotels and motels - I was in the Seaview Motel on the Esplanade - and some of the friendliest Aussies I have met.

Cooktown's claim to fame, and the reason it bears its name, is that James Cook spent 48 days there in 1770 while repairs were carried out to his ship Endeavour. That's how the Endeavour River got its name, and why there's a statue of Cook in the park, an annual re-enactment of his landing and first contact with the Guugu-Yimithirr people, and a James Cook museum. There's a lot more, too. I really enjoyed my time there.


Pride of Cooktown: Captain James Cook's statue in a local park


The folk involved in Cooktown's tourism were particularly happy because the 'sealing' of the main highway had recently been completed, so the Silver Migrants would now have tarmac under their wheels all the way to the town's motels and campsites.

'Most of them haven't come before because they never take their RVs and caravans off-road,' I was told. 'Even if the track is smooth and wide, the majority won't forsake the tarmac. But now there's tarmac all the way, so we should be seeing many more of them.'

Silver Migrants, it transpires, are folk of a certain age who head north in winter, bringing their home comforts in towed caravans or 'Recreational Vehicles' and spending weeks in the warm of Queensland.

Not for them the hazards and excitement of the Bloomfield Track, over which I had travelled in a sturdy, custom-built bus. I thought about what they had missed as I sat on that veranda, waiting for my delayed flight, and decided I preferred my way of getting around.

Ahead of me was a stay in a superb safari camp at Mareeba, an hour and a half by road from Cairns, and, on my return south, 'quality time' in Brisbane - a city that knows how to provide it. But that's a tale for another time.

The Cessna 404 appeared, dropping down for a smooth landing. The pilot turned out to be the most pleasant surprise on what had been a journey of overwhelmingly pleasant surprises.

Jemma Heatley, aged 25, has been flying since she was 16 (too young to drive a car).

Since our meeting, she has become a First Officer on the larger Dash 8 aircraft, but on that bright May morning she handled the Cessna with so much confidence and skill that I quite forgot I have grandsons who are older than she is.

Yes, I know I am being ageist and sexist, but the skill of Miss Heatley and that flight along the Queensland coast, with the sparkling sea and the Great Barrier Reef below us, are memories I shall cherish.

Along with many others from that sojourn in North Queensland.

Travel factsBridge & Wickers (020 7483 6555, www.bridgeandwickers.co.uk) offers four nights at Peppers Beach Club in Palm Cove with an Adventure North 4WD day tour to Cooktown and a Barrier Reef cruise, three nights at Daintree Eco Lodge with breakfast, return flights on Etihad (www.EtihadAirways.com) to Brisbane, return domestic flights from Brisbane to Cairns on Qantas and private transfers, from £2,075. Aboriginal Rock Art Tours with Willie Gordon start from A$65 (about £37) per person. See www.guurrbitours.com. For further information on Queensland, visit www.experiencequeensland.com.


source: dailymail