T R A V E L S

A MOVEABLE FEAST

Mon, 7 Oct 2019 17:09:13 +0800

SCOOPING GOURMET DINNERS BY KAYAK

IT was on the eleventh day of our journey that I found the lagoon. South of Bella Bella, on a rugged coast midway-way between Vancouver and the Alaskan border, and so far off the beaten sea-track that we hadn’t seen a fishing boat or heard a seaplane in a week. Even the radio stations had vanished one by one until only a lone weather beacon remained, compliments of a lighthouse some hundred miles to the north.

There were four of us on the voyage, paddling our kayak convoy south along British Columbia’s storied “Discovery Coast” – Matt, a weathered New Zealander with a physiotherapy practice in Vancouver, his girlfriend, Anne, a lithe musician who had stowed both a flute and a French horn in the belly of their double-kayak, their friend Dave, a gaunt, red-haired giant of indeterminate occupation, and myself, a school-teacher basking in the relief of summer holidays.

The four of us made a motley but workable crew as we map-read, GPS’ed, and bladed our way through narrow inlets and across rough passages, avoiding bears and breaching humpback whales where possible, seeking the rare jewels of fresh-water springs and dry campsites, and generally meandering our way through a serrated world that looked straight from a Tolkien novel. It was all perfect, and perfectly surreal – except for the food.

When you’re traveling by kayak along remote coastlines, you don’t get much in the way of gourmet takeaway. Eleven days of canned food and freeze-dried rations were enough to dull even the most tolerant palate. There are only so many creative ways to prepare pasta, tunafish, baked beans, and powerbars - and we’d run out of ideas. It was at this gustatory nadir of the journey that I found the lagoon which was to provide so much bounty.

That afternoon I had been scouting for a pass between long, narrow islands which - according to the map - would provide a short-cut to the outer coast beyond. We’d had a hard paddle against the wind all morning and the others had stopped to recharge the fresh-water tanks while I went ahead to plot the next days' course change. I had just rounded a corner and negotiated some standing waves from a rip-tide when I saw it. Off to starboard, a wide, shallow bay with the kind of turquoise water and white sand you expect to find only on Caribbean travel posters. It was perfect.

I turned and paddled in at once, glad for a break from my mission as I let my boat drift soundlessly over the placid water. The sun came out, breathing a deep copper-green to the bay, and the sands grew almost blinding white. I was beautifully alone in the world. Or so I thought

Then I noticed the pale swimming-pool bottom of the lagoon was full of frisbee-sized shapes. Red rock crabs. They were everywhere, mottling the sandy bottom in slow-moving ovals. There must have been hundreds.

Without thinking, I reached down through two feet of water, grabbed one with my neoprene-gloved hand and scooped it up – a huge red-rock grab the size of a dinner plate - a snapping, mature crab, the kind you would pay $20 for if you bought it at Safeway or a Granville island fish stall.

I soon realized that even neoprene gloves wouldn’t save the bones of my fingers from those crushing claws, so I grabbed some socks from behind my seat and neatly wrapped the claws shut. Then I strapped it beneath the bungee cord of my deck and made a U-turn back to the others, all thoughts of my scouting mission abandoned.

“Crab dinner tonight!" was the first thing I shouted as I came into view. "Anyone interested?”

They were.

I told them about the lagoon and my plan to return with reinforcements and enough duct tape to capture four more of the beasts. The thrill of a gourmet feast in camp that night was electric.

And so Operation Crab Hunt was born. Dave offered to go with me and, despite the uneasy looks he kept giving those garden-shear sized pincers, volunteered to be the one to duct-tape the claws together while I held the crabs. Anne provided us with a thick burlap bag to hold the spoils.

The Crab Hunt was perhaps the freest, most absurd adventures I’ve ever known. Back at the lagoon we stepped out of our boats to properly face our quarry. Armed with my thick gloves and neoprene boots, I splashed through the shallow lagoon, diving suddenly at a bright red oval, dexterously avoiding the wicked claws and shouting happy curses at their strength and rage: “You bastard! You fucker! This one is the mother of all crabs!” and so forth.

Some escaped our lunges, while others defended themselves ably, but in the end five of the biggest crabs from the lagoon were trussed and strapped to the boats. The burlap bag had somehow gone missing during the fray.

We were just starting to head back to the others - who were by now preparing the campsite and boiling pots of water – when one of the more intrepid crabs broke free of its bonds and expertly dropped into the cockpit of Dave’s boat. (For those less familiar with kayaks, the cockpit is the cavity which holds your body inside the boat.) I’ve never seen a human being move so fast as Dave did, scrambling out of the boat in an effort to protect his nether-regions. Fortunately his kayak stayed upright, and we managed to retrieve the errant arthropod before any lasting injury was done.

That night, sitting on a sandy beach and licking the last succulent crab meat from giant claws, dipped in melted butter, the air filled with murmurs of deep praise: “Exquisite.”, "sumptuous”, “a feast of kings”, “the best goddamned crab I’ve ever eaten.”

And it was. It was a meal I’ll never forget, there on a remote beach surrounded by windswept islands and a darkening sea. I’ve never again tasted seafood so pure or a moment so authentic. As dinners go, it was perhaps the most memorable of my life.

THE OTHER VANCOUVER

Thu, 23 Mar 2017 16:47:43 +0800

WITH Canada celebrating its 150th anniversary this year, scenic destinations like Banff (in the Rock Mountains) and Peggy’s Cove (in Nova Scotia) or sprawling cities like Toronto and Vancouver are likely to get the lion’s share of the tourist traffic.

This is all very well - and hey, there’s nothing like watching the summer sun set over Vancouver’s English Bay. But most visitors to Canada’s west coast never get more than a glimpse of the vast island that bears the same name as this famous city. Standing on the beach at Spanish banks, you might catch sight of its dim bulk stretching along the horizon, behind the kayaks and colourful windsurfer sails. Tourists rarely stray past the shops of Robson street, the Stanley Park seawall, or the Grouse Mountain Skyride – which is a pity, because Vancouver Island is a worthy destination in itself.

The famed beaches of Canada’s Pacific Rim National Park

From remote, windswept Pacific beaches and some of the tallest trees on the planet, to the cultivated urbane pleasures of Canada’s most English city - it offers an entirely different taste of West Coast Canada from the usual fare.

Like most islands worth exploring, there’s no bridge connecting Vancouver Island with the mainland. People drive their cars (and yes, you will need a car to see it properly) onto one of the huge ferries that ply these waters. You get a real sense of travel as the city falls away in the wake of the ship until finally, an hour and a half later, you file off the ship with all the other vehicles. You’ve reached ‘The Island” as it’s fondly called – as though there were no other.

When Captain George Vancouver charted these waters back in 1792, there was already a thriving indigenous civilization – the echoes of which live on in the place names (Nootka Sound, Tsawwassen, Nanaimo…) and in the totem poles, the artwork, the longhouses and the mystique of the great fir and cedar forests that still cover much of the mountainous island. Vancouver island is the size of Taiwan – yet with only one thirtieth the population. Even today there are probably more deer, bears, eagles and seals than there are people.

Wild Orcas are routinely seen from the ferry to Vancouver Island.

Depending on the route you’ve chosen, you’ll end up either in Nanaimo (midway up) or the southern tip, close to Victoria. Using both routes as entry and exit points will round out your trip nicely. This southern ferry route, which winds through the rustic Gulf Islands, is particularly enchanting.

Give yourself at least a week to explore, more if you’re able. The most accessible destinations are in the southern half of the island, but there’s still a good bit of driving between them. (Tofino to Victoria will require 5 hours, minimum.)

Tofino, Ucluelet and Pacific Rim National Park

Pacific Rim National Park is the jewel in crown of the Canada’s impressive Parks Service, and one of the country’s most scenic stretches: a 500 km2 swathe of stretching beaches, pounding surf, pristine forests and rugged offshore islands. The twin towns of Tofino and Ucluelet are home to fishing fleets, whale watching stations and the area’s small hotels, though more intrepid travellers will want to camp in the park itself.

Pacific Rim has Canada’s best beaches for surfing and beachcombing, a network of nature walks and an museum on Wickaninnish beach. The migrating grey whales offshore make for seasonal whale watching – though you’ll have to wear thick survival suits because of the chill sea. As for dining, it’s hard to beat the exquisite flavours of the local-caught salmon, mussels and Dungeness crabs that fill these clear waters.

The Roy Henry Vickers Gallery in the small town of Tofino is famous for its stylized art.

The truly adventurous can rent kayaks and wander for days through the Broken islands or spend a strenuous week walking the rugged West Coast Trail, which covers some 75 km of coastal wilderness. It’s little wonder the park is deemed by Lonely Planet to be the province’s most popular outdoor attraction.

Nanaimo & Island East

Travelling to and from Pacific Rim Park will take you through Nanaimo, a pleasant if unexceptional Canadian town. But one of the Island’s premier attractions lies close by: the massive forests of Cathedral Grove. Giant Douglas firs – some of them 800 years old and 250 feet high – stretch skyward, giving, you get a sense of what the west coast was like in earlier years, before logging and development reshaped the landscape. The long mountain lakes in this area make scenic destinations in themselves, and offer some splendid fishing and boating.

Victoria

British Columbia’s second city is by far the Island’s most visited destination. A modest and scenic city on its southern tip, Victoria boasts Canada’s mildest winter climate and a pleasantly laid-back atmosphere. From summer festivals music festivals and the renowned Provincial museum, to a wonderfully walkable inner harbour, next to the province’s stately parliament buildings, Victoria is a great place to while away a few relaxed days.

Spring comes early here – flowers bloom by late January, when the rest of the country is locked in snow – which is apt for a place which prides itself on its famous gardens and parks. Butchart Gardens has some of the greatest floral displays anywhere, thanks to the climate and a long history of cultivation.

A whale watching boat docks in Victoria, with the provincial parliament buildings behind.

For decades Victoria was the only place in the country where you could cultivate a British accent and not be thought pretentious by Canadian sensibilities. Double decker buses, tea shops and scones are a part of the city landscape, and though the region’s ubiquitous coffee culture has crept in, you can still get the “best Afternoon English tea this side of the empire” in the vine-covered elegance of Empress hotel.

North of Parksville

Most travelers get as far north as Parksville before turning west for Pacific Rim Park. But to continue on north means more wilderness and less people – far less people. It is worth exploring if time permits. There are the excellent fishing camps near Campbell River, killer whale watching in the Johnstone Strait that brings you close up to these intelligent and fascinating residents. Scuba enthusiasts will almost certainly have heard of the famous diving walls near Port Hardy – sheer cliffs filled with massive anemones and colourful sea stars (some the size of a wagon wheel.) The water clarity and profusion of marine life here have given it the second ranking in the world (after the Red Sea) by the Jacques Cousteau Society. Port Hardy is also the jumping off point for anyone taking ferries further north, such to as the province’s Discovery Coast or Prince Rupert.

The Stellar’s Jay, a common sight on Vancouver Island, is British Columbia’s ‘provincial bird.’

Vancouver Island is one of those destinations that is all too often left for ‘a next time’ that never comes. And yet, it offers a far richer experience than the usual Vancouver-to-Whistler circuit. The next time you find yourself on a Vancouver beach, gazing out onto the great bulk of Vancouver island, consider adding a week to your trip and exploring an altogether different side of Canada’s west coast. You won’t forget it.

Sunset at Ucluelet, on the west coast of Vancouver Island

VANCOUVER ISLAND’S TOP 5

1. Pacific Rim National Park – Canada’s westernmost stretch. Pristine beaches, crashing surf, camping, surfing, whale-watching, indigenous art, and exquisite local seafood.

2. Cathedral Grove –it’s a humbling experience and a taste of another age to stand beneath these towering forest giants.

3. The Royal British Columbia Museum – in downtown Victoria. Gives an excellent overview of both the human and natural histories of the region, with a world-renowned collection of indigenous people’s artifacts.

4. Whale watching at Ucluelet or Tofino – see migrating grey whales offshore, or pods of resident killer whales, on the swells of the open sea.

5. Afternoon Tea at the Empress Hotel – An English tradition in the most English of Canada’s cities – the hotel has been serving its exquisite afternoon tea since Edwardian times.

An earlier version of this article was published in TODAY and can be found here.

INTO THE WILD

Wed, 24 Aug 2011 20:34:50 +0800

Australia’s Shark Bay makes for a full-on Nature Immersion

The first shark fin broke the surface minutes after I’d launched my kayak from the sand, and was soon joined by another. By the end of an hour’s paddle down the shore I must have counted 35 of the disquieting triangles.

Not Jaws-style maneaters, mind you - though tiger sharks and the occasional great white are out there, I’m told - but smaller, more benign cousins, like sandbar and black-tip reef sharks, coming in on the tide to feed. My ride just happened to coincide with their dinner hour.

The aptly-named Shark Bay sits like a dimple on the northwest corner of Australia, a cleft of blue-green waters protected from the open Indian Ocean by the long barrier of Dirk Hartog island.

It’s a region rich in marine life – from affable dolphins and ungainly manatees to stromatolites, the oldest form of life on the planet – not to mention the eerie charms of the surrounding desert landscape. For this reason it serves as much a mecca for nature fans and outdoor types as it does for wild species. (I counted far more marine biology students than shark fins during my stay.)

I’d come here myself for similar reasons, to get close-up to species that until then had only graced nature magazine pages – though with the added quirk of bringing my own boat along for the ride. It’s not everyone who carries a full-sized sea kayak that folds up and fits into a backpack.

I hoped that the waters of Shark Bay would prove kinder to my folding kayak.

Sea Life Galore

When it comes to marine life, the charm-school winners are without a doubt the friendly bottlenose dolphins of Monkey Mia, a small resort within the bay. For more than 40 years, visitors have been delighted to stand waist-deep in the shallows while dolphins swim within nuzzling distance. It’s a regular ritual for the dolphins during their daily feed.

These are also among the best-studied dolphins in the world, and the only ones known to use tools (sea sponges protect their snouts while they dig for food.) It’s no surprise that Monkey Mia alone draws visitors from all over the world.

Further out and less readily seen are the dugongs. Those clumsy, slow-moving creatures are said to be the inspiration behind sailor’s stories of mermaids, though it might take more than a bottle of rum to see the resemblance. About 10,000 of them forage in the eelgrass beds of Shark Bay, the greatest concentration in the world.

Not every inhabitant is so benign. Tiger sharks are abundant in the area, as are venomous sea snakes and stonefish, which sit concealed on the bottom like deadly rocks. However it’s rare to hear of injuries or attacks. A little caution goes a long way.

Other wildlife of note include humpback whales, which pass Shark Bay from July to October. And for the less conservation-minded, the area is renowned for its sport fishing – particularly for pink snapper.

One of the many friendly bottlenose dolphins at Monkey Mia.

Looking Back in Time

While less photogenic than cavorting dolphins or whales, another popular drawing card of the region are the stromatolites of Hamelin Pool. These lumpy, rock-like mounds sitting in the shallows may not look like much – but don’t be deceived by appearances. Stromatolites are among the oddest life forms on the planet.

The word ‘ancient’ hardly does them justice. They’ve lived in these bathtub-warm waters literally since the dawn of life, the first ones appearing 3 billion years before the dinosaurs. They are not actually individuals, but rather communal groupings of blue-green algae and feel spongy to the touch. Some of the growths in Hamelin pool are thought to be 50 million years old and still living. More than any other creature, they have aptly earned the moniker ‘living fossil’.

Er... which way to Hamelin Pool?

The Painted Desert

It’s not just the sea that’s brimming with wildlife. The deserts too are less empty than they appear. Peer between the brush, or outside the heat of the day, and emus, bandicoots, wallabies and goannas are just some of the Australian icons you’ll meet.

On one afternoon’s walk I came across two goannas – easily the biggest lizards I’d ever seen - stepping with slow deliberateness across the sand. Another time, I encountered the stubby form of a blue-tongued skink. Fascinating to see, scaly to touch, but those powerful jaws can lock onto a finger with an intractable grip.

A goanna searches for supper in the desert scrub (left). Those inimitable Aussie roadsigns (right.)

Those auburn desert sands become a slate that communicates the comings-and-goings of all sorts of desert creatures: bird, mammal, reptile, insect. Here a snake’s sidelong motion, there a crow’s twig feet, or the deeper moon pads of a rabbit. The tracks tell a story of the desert’s abundance.

With all this within its compass - the warm turquoise waters full of life and the spectacular desert landscape surrounding them - it’s no surprise that the Shark Bay region has been deemed a World Heritage site.

Out of the Wild

My last day there, as my kayak glided over that milky jade sea for the final time, I felt the freedom of soaring above another world. I was accustomed to the small sharks by now – which usually splashed off in alarm as I got close – and this time a whole squadron of skates and sting-rays passed beneath me, some the size of hubcaps, others as big as wagon wheels. Shark Bay had revealed yet another of its natural wonders.

Experiences like this are tonic for our frenetic, digitized age. They bring to mind the words of another traveller, Paul Theroux, who remarked: "As long as there is wilderness, there is hope."

SHARK BAY’S TOP TEN

1. Dolphins of Monkey Mia
2. Stromatolites in Hamelin pool
3. Guided adventure tours
4. Watersports – sea kayaking, windsurfing, kiteboarding, snorkelling
5. Bushwalking in the desert
6. 4-wheel driving
7. Fishing and boat charters
8. Spring wildflowers (August, September)
9. Little Lagoon near Denham
10. Camping

TRAVEL NOTES

GETTING THERE:
The most common way to Shark Bay is to drive there. Denham is 820 km north of Perth, or a 10 hour car trip. Some of the region’s attractions cannot be reached by regular 2WD vehicles, however, Public transport options are the Greyhound bus, operating daily from Perth ($140) or regional airline Skippers, which flies to the Monkey Mia from Perth several times a week ($390).

WHEN TO GO: The best times to visit are June to October, the winter and spring. The views of spring wildflowers on the drive up are world renowned. With temperatures in the mid-20s and light winds, the climate is at its gentlest. Summer months can be exceedingly hot.

WHERE TO STAY: Most accommodation is found in Denham, the one village in the region. These range from campgrounds ($18 a night) to small beach cottages ($50) to plush seaside chalets and Heritage Resort Shark Bay ($160)

This article article was first published in TODAY and can be found online here.

BERLIN: Germany's Capital of Cool

Fri, 25 Feb 2011 07:19:39 +0800

As FIFA World Cup fever approached its peak last July, tens of thousands of young Germans, decked in the nation’s distinctive tri-colours, made the long trek from Brandenburg Gate to Victory monument.

They didn’t win the match that night, but it was a jubilant coming-of-age for a city that has seen more than its share of traumas over the decades. Divided by Cold War, bombed-out in WWII, and of course the horrors of Naziism… it’s little wonder that when the Berlin wall fell in 1989, people hollered with hope. It’s been an upward spiral ever since.

Not since the roaring 1920s has Germany’s capital been so prosperous, so self-assured and well… so hip. In the last two decades, Berlin has quickly morphed itself from a divided has-been into one of Europe’s most progressive cities.

Whether you’re there for a week or a weekend, Berlin has plenty on tap to fill your days and nights.

Sense of the Past

Walking along city streets, you’re never far from the past. Most symbolic of all are those bits of the Berlin still standing - that grim, concrete border which once divided ideologies and symbolized Cold War states. Graffiti painted on the west side, grey concrete on the east, you can’t help but feel solemn, touching that wall and feeling the decades of division and suffering it represented. Twenty years on, the souvenir stands nearby still sell its fragments – alongside with models of clunky East German Trabi cars.

Curiously, there’s been a recent surge in nostalgia for the ‘bad old days’ among locals. Checkpoint Charlie (once the border crossing between east and west) operates again (as a tourist photo-op) and even the quirky communist-era ‘walk’ signals were reintroduced. For a kitschy if fun experience, stay in a hotel that recreates the austerity of East German days, down to the bedsheets, wallpaper and hanging photographs.

Much more solemn is the Topography of Terror nearby, a museum which portrays (mostly photographically) the horrors of the Nazi years. It’s a portrayal which appears holds back nothing and is not recommended for the feint of heart. You can’t help but commend a nation so frank about its gruesome past.

The Holocaust Memorial near Brandenburg gate is another striking homage to history - a 19,000 m2 grid of concrete slabs, one for each page of the Jewish Talmud.

The Holocaust Memorial, near Brandenburg Gate with its stark if memorable geometries.

Museum Island

To dig further back, Berlin’s central Museum Island on the Spree river offers five internationally renowned museums side by side. Visit painstaking reconstructions like Babylon’s Ishtar Gate (at the Pergamon) or the Neues’ collection of Egyptian artifacts, the Byzantine relics at the Bode. It’s little wonder the site was granted UNESCO world heritage status. Expect an afternoon at least. You can get a pass which covers all the major museums.

The Modern

Since the fall of the wall there’s been a mass effort to reshape Berlin into a modern and vibrant 21st century city. Glass and steel edifices, and amazing design sprout everywhere, and seamlessly blend with historic facades. Berlin’s triumphant new architecture shows it’s a city not just looking behind, but ahead as well.

Seduced by Sauerdraut

German cuisine may not have the same resonance for Asian palates as French or Italian, but local cooking is still a must-try for the visitor. The bakeshops are excellent, particularly with breads, and with hearty restaurant fare like wurst (the varieties of sausages), pork knuckle, and sauerkraut, there’s no excuse not to tuck in.

The jovial atmosphere of the bars and beer parlours make a good mixer for locals and visitors. Beer connoisseurs won’t be able to resist those nutty, cloudy beers distinct flavours and colours ranging from dark to amber.

Plenty more where this came from in Germany’s capital.

Sense of Fun

Despite the German reputation for no-nonsense hard work, Berliners know how to have their fun. Makeshift ‘beaches’ spring up in the summer along the river, down to the sand and lawnchairs. Quaff a cool one in your sunglasses and pretend you’re on the Mediterranean for an hour or two. Or pedal a ‘beer bicycle’ around the city with 12 new-found friends.

If shopping’s your thing, the boutiques and brands of Kürfurstendamm should keep you happy. There are also riverboat tours along the Spree and cultural events like the ‘Love Parade’ music fest which draws a million fans.

Berlin’s greatest renown in recent years has been for its no-holds-barred nightlife. With: no mandatory closing hours, so you can groove the night away at clubs like Knaack Klub or Havanna.

Perhaps the city’s one drawback is its perplexing rail system, which is sure to confuse the first-time visitor. Ticket machines are scant and user-unfriendly, there’s not an attendant in sight, and the maze-like stations have more levels than Inception. You’re sure to struggle more than once - but then, even local Berliners admit they get lost too.

In Berlin, life may not yet be quite the ‘Cabaret’ it was during the heyday of the roaring 20s, but nearly a century later, things are on the up and up again. The beer is chilled and the clubs are hot in Germany’s capital of cool.

Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome!

This article article is currently available online here.

ROMANCE OF THE RAILS

Sun, 31 Oct 2010 21:19:43 +0800

In Shanghai recently, I discovered the true meaning of speed. And no, it wasn't the rate at which xiao long bao disappeared from my plate or money was coaxed from my Expo-fueled wallet. It happened when I came face to face with an old love: Trains.   Anyone slipping into Shanghai Pudong Airport these days will undoubtedly experience the sleek Maglev trains that lead to the city. At a cruising speed of 450 km an hour, the landscape outside becomes almost an Impressionistic blur. Now that is speed.  While to some train travel may seem a quaint anachronism, for others it is still very much a part of daily life, especially in Europe and Asia. Japan has had its bullet trains for decades, and the rails criss-crossing continental Europe have long been a backpacker staple. Even car-crazy southern California is thinking about getting into the high-speed train game now.   Train travel in fact is far from dead. It may even be on the cutting edge of the future. 

  The pluses of trains  Ours is an age where long-distance journeys usually conjure images of lengthy airport queues, intense security checks and cramped economy seating. We sometimes forget that it wasn't always this way.   Nor is it the only way. London to Paris on the Eurostar takes a little over two hours, barely the waiting and processing time you can expect before boarding the same flight. The train trip also produces about one-tenth of the carbon emissions of air travel, leaving a significantly smaller carbon footprint.   Trains are often less expensive too, and stop at all those tiny, out of the way places not served even by secondary airports. And rail stations, unlike airports, are usually right downtown in major cities - often with an elegance that is straight from another age. Just look at Kuala Lumpur's or New York's central stations.  For some, it's the comfort of rail travel that's the draw. Luxury trains like the Orient Express or India's Palace on Wheels are literally that - Luxury. But even on regular runs you can read a book, walk around and gawk at scenery through panoramic windows or philosophise with strangers in the bar car. Some people claim they never sleep better than on a train - perhaps it's that gentle rocking motion.
 

  Freedom in a ticket  For me it's probably the spontaneity of rail travel that is the biggest draw. Being able to walk up to a counter and buy space on the next available ticket out. How many people do that nowadays in an airport?  But if the speed of mag-lev or the plush comforts of luxury trains sit at one end of the spectrum, there's an undeniable charm too with the sleepy rail stations and rickety trains at the other. Take a local train along Portugal's Algarve seacoast that pauses (it seems) at every lamp-post. Or a Sri Lankan commuter train with passengers three-deep on the roof. In India, cows wander through the smoky rail stations at night, while the Khyber Pass railway in Pakistan still uses colonial-era steam engines.  There's a romance to rail travel that isn't matched by a three hour, or six hour, or sixteen hour flight. And it's not just the idea of your own sleeper-cabin, or elegant silverware in the dining car, or having a philosophical chat with strangers late at night. It's something more. Maybe the motion, maybe the landscapes unfolding before your eyes. Somehow with a train journey you truly feel you're travelling.    TIPS ON TRAIN TRAVEL  Break up your travel: Buy a ticket that allows you to get off along the way. Rail passes are still better, giving you unparalleled freedom to explore a region. Eurail passes have been a backpacker's staple for decades, but you can find them in many places. It's worth looking into. Now if only airlines were so generous…  Travel light: Lighter than you would with air travel. Take only what you can carry comfortably (a backpack works well). The days of red-capped porters who blithely lug your steamer trunks are sadly over.  Make it fun: Bring a book, a pack of cards, some movies to watch on your laptop/iPod. You'll have plenty of down-time. Better yet train travel offers a chance to socialise that is absent from bus or plane. Get to know your travel companion, or make some new friends in the bar car. It worked in Before Sunrise, didn't it?  Creature comforts: Sure there's food available onboard, but it's handy to have your own supply. Don't be a captive audience. Bringing a light blanket or sleeping bag is smart for long trips. The coldest ride of my life was the long night train from Istanbul to Sofia (Bulgaria) during an April chill.  Class consciousness: When riding the rails in populous nations (India and China come to mind) it's worth paying extra for first class. This isn't elitism - but it's worth having a guaranteed seat, the comfort of a blanket on cold nights, and avoiding surprise sleepers piled three-deep on the floor.

 

 

FIVE UNFORGETTABLE RAIL JOURNEYS

 Venice-Simplon Orient Express (Europe) www.orient-express.com  No Agatha Christie style murders on this train, just a ride through such storied cities as London, Paris, Venice, Prague, Budapest, and Istanbul. With refitted vintage carriages from the 20s and 30s, luxury has never been so authentic. Note that the classic Paris to Istanbul run happens just once a year.
  The Palace on Wheels (India) The Palace on Wheels www.palaceonwheels.net  Who said the days of the Maharajahs were over? On this train you can tour India's Rajasthan in the plush comforts of another age - not to mention aircon and DHT television. Delhi, Jaipur, Jodhpur, Udaipur and Agra are just some of the destinations in store for "seven days of heaven on earth".
 
Singapore to Chiangmai (Southeast Asia) Singapore to Chiangmai (via KL and Bangkok) www.orient-express.com/web/eoe/eastern_and_oriental_express.jsp  It's back! The Eastern and Oriental Express has resumed its opulent run through South-east Asia. What better way to sample the full length of the Malay peninsula, from Singapore's equatorial sun to the cool elephant hills of Chiang Mai. Budget travellers can also piece together the same route on local carriers.
  Beijing to Lhasa (China) Beijing to Lhasa www.chinatibettrain.com  The newest but surely no less epic run of the group. China Qinghai-Tibet railway, opened in 2006, is now the world's highest train route. It carries some pretty impressive technology along the journey too, including tracks on permafrost, UV-protected windows and onboard oxygen supplies to keep the thin air at bay. 
 The Trans-Siberian Railway (Europe/Asia) www.expresstorussia.com
 Yes, the grand-daddy of great train journeys is still around. It's still the longest rail line of them all and the place where Paul Theroux's Great Railway Bazaar comes to life. Travel all 9,289km from Moscow to Vladivostok - or else take the Trans-Manchurian line, Moscow to Beijing.

 

This article article is currently available online in TODAY.