Posted Monday, July 30, 2007, 4:11 PM by Lonely Planet
High-speed rail has arrived in
London, and Lonely Planet got a sneak preview this week.
BBC Breakfast was doing a live broadcast from what will soon be
St Pancras International Station, and we were invited along for a glimpse of the future home of
Eurostar and to pass on our thoughts about the big move.
These are exciting times for Eurostar, the train service which since 1993 has linked London and Ashford in Kent with Paris, Lille and Brussels. A new high-speed line has been built through south-east England including two new stations at Ebbsfleet and Stratford, which handily happens to be the site of the 2012 Olympic Games.
Journey times between London and the Continent will be cut by at least 20 minutes, with non-stop times of:
- London to Paris - 2h 15m,
- London to Brussels - 1h 51m
- London to Lille - 1h 20m
all at a top speed of 186mph.
Named after a Roman Martyr beheaded in 304AD (we think), the red-brick masterpiece of late Victorian Gothic design is being revamped with glass, metal and brick. When complete, the station will boast some slightly random features, including a farmer's market and the world's longest champagne bar.
Trains start running to St Pancras on November 14 - the day after the last France-bound trains leave Waterloo. If you're in London you can take a stroll in and look around the nearly-finished station. At the risk of being labelled a train geek, you really should.
- Tom Hall, in London
Labels: Europe, London, Rail Travel
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Posted Tuesday, July 24, 2007, 10:22 PM by Lonely Planet
Lonely Planet author Clem Lindenmayer's body has been found after he went missing in the Gongga mountains in China, three months ago.
Clem spent much of the last two decades exploring the world's mountainous regions and wild landscapes, from Switzerland to Tasmania and Patagonia. He felt a special affection for rugged beauty and although a real mountain man with a love of wilderness, flora, fauna and foreign languages, he came with the requisite hodge-podge of past jobs. After working as a dishwasher, telex operator, translator and assembler of exhibition stands, he eventually teamed up his passion for outdoor activities with research and writing for Lonely Planet. His experience walking and trekking saw him write and contribute to many Lonely Planet titles.
It was no surprise that Clem eventually made his way to, and fell in love with, China. Periods of lengthy travel were interspersed with courses in Asian Studies and Mandarin. Having previously crossed mountain passes and wild tracts on almost every continent, his intention to one day trek across the Transarctic Mountains in Antarctica was taken seriously. Unfortunately his curiosity came to its conclusion in the Gongga mountains - a rugged area in the West of Sichuan province, China. Clem had been missing for three months, the discovery of his body a terribly sad ending to a life filled with adventure and discovery.
Clem will be missed by his wife, Romi, his family, as well as all the Lonely Planet staff who had the opportunity to work with him.
'In 2001 Chile's Ministerio de Bienes Nacionales (Ministry of National Resources) officially remapped and marked the Dientes Circuit, applying names to features according to the simple principle of usage. Names that had been tentatively given to lakes and passes in previous editions of this guidebook (simply so that readers could identify them more easily) were taken up as official nomenclature. New names were given to a number of key features on the circuit that had remained nameless - from Paso Australia to Laguna Zeta - but Bienes Nacionales also added a Cerro Clem and Montes Lindenmayer. I swear I had nothing to do with it - fame just creeps up on you when you're least expecting it, I suppose.'
- Clem 'Monty' Lindenmayer, p257 Trekking in the Patagonian Andes.
Labels: Asia and Pacific, Inside Lonely Planet, Trekking
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Posted Monday, July 23, 2007, 8:55 AM by Lonely Planet
This time it's for real. Today around 200 of the world's best professional cyclists tackled Stage 15 of the Tour de France, covering almost 200 km over five mountain passes through the Pyrenees, the hardest day of this famously tough three-week bike race.
This evening (Monday), I was glued to the TV, watching the Tour de France big boys do their stuff, as exactly one week ago I pedalled, puffed and panted over those same mountain roads. I was with a group of friends from Britain and about 7000 other cyclists from around the world. We were taking part in the Etape du Tour, a chance for non-professionals to get a taste of the real thing.
And it
was just a taste. Last week, most of the Etape riders took between 8 and 11 hours to cover the route, most stopping at least for a few minutes to refuel along the way. Today, the Tour riders did it in five and a half hours - non-stop of course - riding UP those 15% gradients that drag on for 20km or more, almost as fast as we came down them. And (to get technical for a moment) where we were using compact chainsets giving gears like 34 x 28, the tour riders seemed to cruise along in 38 x 23. And where we were exhausted at the end of our ride, the Tour de France teams do it again, day after day for three weeks. Respect. Utter respect. Or, as they say in France, '
chapeau'.
Watching sporting stars like Rasmussen, Contador, Vino, Evans and the rest is undoubtedly inspiring, and it certainly brings back great memories of riding the Etape. But will we do it again next year? It's still far too early to say...
Etape Memories #1 - The Author. The Day Before. Calm and (appearing) confident.
Etape Memories #2 - The Author. The Final Mountain. Totally shattered.
Lonely Planet author David Else was in France to take part in L'Etape du Tour - cycling through the Pyrenees on part of the route of the Tour de France. This is the 8th (and final) of a series of blog posts.
Labels: cycling, Etape du Tour, Europe, France, Pyrenees
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Posted Sunday, July 22, 2007, 4:43 PM by Lonely Planet
Famous for bringing together the world's best-looking audience in the most stunning festival location, Malaysia's
Rainforest World Music Festival offers three days of gravelly throat-singing, cheerful panpipe tunes and Sicilian tambourine beats mingled with the chirps and shrieks of the rainforest on the South-East Asian island of
Borneo.
The festival began 10 years ago, when Canadian musician
Randy Raine-Reusch teamed up with the
Sarawak Tourism Board. Randy was driven by the desire to preserve, showcase and celebrate the myriad musical forms that thrive on the island. Today, the festival is one of the main events on Malaysia's cultural calendar, drawing around 8000 people on its busiest days. Featuring little-known local groups alongside bands from the global world music circuit, the festival programme is clever, but can hardly be described as cool. Celtic music from Poland, Peruvian cliches from Sydney and Cuban melodies sung with British accents wouldn't draw people to a weekender in most places. Yet in Malaysia, the trendiest youngsters from across the country save up all year for their weekend passes and the flight from Kuala Lumpur to Kuching, the principal city of Sarawak.
"This is the best party of the year", grins a student, whose neck is being adorned with a temporary tattoo, "we come here to hang out and have fun. The music is just the bonus, but a great one! I loved
Hun Huur Tu (Tuvan throat singing), they had me head-banging all night!"
Malaysia's capital
Kuala Lumpur brims with chic bars and glittering nightclubs, but it doesn't have an outdoor party to rival the relaxed mood of the Rainforest World Music Festival. "You couldn't hold an event like this on the Malaysian peninsula", explains a local journalist, 'it would never get a license, as Islam is the predominant religion. The punters are too sexy here and it's sponsored by a beer company." And so the country's trendsetters converge on the edge of the rainforest, drinking rice wine in the traditional longhouses of the
Sarawak Cultural Village while listening to bamboo bands and jumping to the sounds of the sape, one of the island's proudest indigenous instruments.
It's rare that the aspirations of traditionalists and hip youth converge so magnificently. One group feels warm and glowy for having contributed to the preservation of another slice of traditional culture, another for having discovered new music from home and away during one rocking party.
- Katharina Kane
Labels: Asia and Pacific, Festivals and events
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Posted Thursday, July 19, 2007, 8:32 PM by Lonely Planet
We're sprawled on carpets in an Alhambresque courtyard. Onstage, a French woman is singing Sephardic songs even as muezzins broadcast their air-raid style calls to prayer. A vast, spreading oak envelopes us all in a single swath of shade.
As I attended this year's edition of the
Fez Festival of World Sacred Music, I kept thinking how very 'Lonely Planet' it all was: exotic (medieval medina, whirling dervishes), great value (dirt cheap), unapologetically One-Worldist (bring Jewish, Christian and Muslim musicians together and world peace is bound to follow).
Founded in the wake of the 1991 Gulf War, the festival's goals are lofty, though also fortified with realpolitik. The omnipresent photos of King Mohammed VI - the West's staunchest Arab ally - definitely say "realpolitik," as do the quantities of European television cameras, which pound for pound outweigh audience members at many concerts.
But Sufi Nights - free, midnight concerts in a sprawling medina garden - feel lofty, sublime. A mixed crowd of Europeans and locals watch Sufi masters chant Koranic passages in a bid to dissolve the self and unite with the divine. A crescendo is reached the night Gnawa musicians take the stage. A cousin of Sufism, Gnawa combines Arab, Berber and West African rhythms to invoke mluk - spirits that cause the brightly arrayed musicians, as well as multiple audience members, joyfully to writhe.
Fez's medieval medina - the largest in North Africa - is the remarkable base on which the festival's superstructure is laid. A walk in that great labyrinth, with its narrow passages, sharp smells, aggressive merchants, ornate courtyards and sudden vistas onto its own vastness, is another sure way to short-circuit the ego in the face of something much larger.
-
Robert LandonLabels: Africa, Festivals and events
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Posted Monday, July 16, 2007, 6:07 PM by Lonely Planet
Being US President carries some major perks - you can get peanut butter and jelly sandwiches anywhere in the world, you get to skip passport control, and you can order troops in and out of foreign countries. But one thing you can't do is walk the streets of Trastevere in Rome, as George W. Bush found out recently.
Trastevere is one of Rome's most picturesque neighbourhoods, a tightly-packed quarter of ochre-coloured palazzi and animated piazze. Thick with restaurants, pubs and bars, it's hugely popular with Romans and fun-loving foreigners who pile in nightly to party into the small hours. It's also, apparently, a no-go area for American presidents.
Much to the amusement of the trasteverini, Trastevere's famously proud residents, George W. was politely, but sternly, dissuaded from entering the area when he visited the Eternal City on 9 June. Before his visit, Bush had requested a round-table meeting with members of the Sant' Egidio community, a Catholic charity-cum-diplomatic organisation with its headquarters in Trastevere. But when it was pointed out to him that the neighbourhood's alleyways were too small for his motorcade and that the surrounding palazzi provided ideal sniper cover, he diplomatically agreed to hold the meeting in the US Embassy.
Thus the world was spared the sight of Bush enjoying a gelato on Trastevere's suggestive streets and the city's frazzled authorities, already worried about the prospect of anti-Bush protests, were saved a further security headache. In the end, Bush's 36-hour Rome visit passed off without major incident. He came, he caught up with his old buddy Berlusconi, he met the Pope and PM Prodi, and he left, leaving the city to its traffic and Trastevere to its trattorie and tourists.
- Duncan Garwood
Labels: Europe, Travelsnitch
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After 6 months of training, and 4 days of travel and preparation, the big day finally arrived.
At 7am on Monday, more than 7000 cyclists rolled out of Foix, and headed into the Pyrenees to cross five major mountain passes on the Etape du Tour route to Loudenvielle.
The first 30km was fine, then came the first pass. The Col de Port. Steep.
Then came the second. The Col de Portet d'Aspet. Steeper. Then the third, and the fourth. You guessed it, longer and steeper again. Only the last pass of the day, the Col de Peyresourde, was a minor respite.
All in all, the 200km route included about 100km of uphill, with a total ascent of about 4500m. That was hard enough. But on top of the gradients, the heat was intense. Up to 40 degrees at times. So hot, the tar was melting.
Sometimes when riding a bike gets hard, it feels like the road is sucking the tyres. Today, that's really what was happening.
But despite these obstacles, we all completed the distance in the allotted time. It was a long day in the mountains, and the roads were as hard as hell, but the scenery was stunning and the
camaraderie was magnificent. Well over 1000 people dropped out, so we're all proud of our achievement.
Will we do it again next year? Tonight, as we recover in the bar, it's far too early to say...
Lonely Planet author David Else is in France to take part in L'Etape du Tour - cycling through the Pyrenees on part of the route of the Tour de France. This is the 7th of a series of blog posts.
Labels: cycling, Etape du Tour, Europe, France, Pyrenees
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Posted Sunday, July 15, 2007, 5:18 PM by Lonely Planet
Which clever clogs can spot the theme of these anecdotes?
-The time a Honduran soldier plonked himself beside me on a chicken bus crossing the El Salvador/Honduras highlands border, his assault rifle slung over his lap pointing at my kneecap. The chilly alpine conditions didn't stop the sweat pouring each time the driver hit a fresh pothole.
-The time a chicken bus I was on mysteriously started to bunny-hop up a hill without a driver.
-The time I dangled out the doors of a hurtling, packed Guatemala City commuter bus, grimly clinging one-handed to a rail to stop myself getting too intimate with the steep verge below.
OK, so the bus link isn't too tricky to spot. But it took someone to point out how often I said: "When I was on a chicken bus in..." for the story-telling importance of Central America's most colourful transport to click. "Is it just me?" I wondered. "Is it my line of work or do other travellers have the same chicken bus story ratio? Maybe I just have an uncanny knack for picking dodgy buses..."
Mind you, it's no surprise that these fume-belching, former US school buses spawn a few tales. Brightly coloured, especially in Guatemala, they are an intoxicating way to travel. The cabin is often part shrine, part soft porn. Semi-deranged drivers blast marimba music as they negotiate improbably narrow mountain roads.
"They are like the devil has just driven up from the underworld," one friend said to me as a particularly kaleidoscopic example careered past, its horn shrieking as it guzzled up the Panamericana highway.
It was all such a stark contrast to the sedate English train I settled into on my return. As my Pendolino eased toward the Midlands, I noted no wanton use of the horn, no three adults and baby on a seat intended for two US school kids and no itinerant 'vitamin' vendors. The only glitch was when the sliding carriage doors closed in my face.
It reminded me of the time when I was on a chicken bus in...oh, never mind.
- Jolyon Attwooll just researched the Honduras chapter for Lonely Planet's Central America on a Shoestring.Labels: The Americas
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One day to go. The Etape du Tour is tomorrow. Today we cycled down to Foix, the start, to register. According to our guidebooks (Frommers and Rough Guide, naturally) Foix is an interesting historic town, with a fine chateaux to admire. We cycled right past.
Continuing yesterday's celebratory atmosphere, an Etape 'festival village' has been set up on the outskirts of Foix. A chance to meet old cycling buddies, to buy some last-minute kit, or queue to have the bikes checked over by skilled mechanics.
Throughout the day we kept up to date with news from the Tour de France, now on stage 8. The professionals will be coming to Foix in about a week, and crossing the same five mountain passes we're attempting. We'll be well out of the way by then.
Although the Tour de France is exclusively for male cyclists, there's also a Tour Feminine - won in 2006 by a Brit, Nicole Cooke, also winner of numerous other cycling world championships and one of the highest-performing athletes in the world - although you wouldn't know it for all the press attention she gets (ie, very little).
The Etape is open to both genders, so it's not completely testosterone fuelled (although there's a lot of that about). Every year a few hundred women ride among the 7000+ total field. My sister Jacqui did it last year and was buoyed along by constant shouts of "allez les femmes" from the spectators. She's doing it again this year, and we hope to ride side-by-side some of the way.
She's younger than me, and fitter, so I'm worried. If she leaves me behind on one of the 20km ascents, I'll never live it down.
And, if you'll excuse more personal references, there's another family connection: My father used to coach cycling teams, and helped me with a training schedule to prepare for this Etape. Just one day to go until we know if it worked, Dad.
Lonely Planet author David Else is in France to take part in L'Etape du Tour - cycling through the Pyrenees on part of the route of the Tour de France. This is the sixth of a series of blog posts.
Labels: cycling, Etape du Tour, Europe, France, Pyrenees
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Posted Saturday, July 14, 2007, 10:29 AM by Lonely Planet
We're back on the bikes. Hooray and hurrah. After two days sat on the coach to reach Toulouse, it's an immense relief to be pedalling again. The weather is warm, the roads are dry, and we're rolling along at a nice relaxed pace between fields of bright yellow sunflowers. It's France, Jim, but it could be paradise.
As well as our little team, there will be several hundred other Brits among the 7000+ riders riding the
Etape on Monday. Our cycling jerseys are based on the flag of England, but in a spirit of
entente the lettering says
Angleterre.
Today is 14 July, Bastille Day - a French holiday. After cycling through the quiet countryside for about 40km we reached a small town celebrating the event with a market and small festival. We stopped for coffee, and enjoyed the atmosphere.
Vive la France.
It was another relaxed 30km or so back to Toulouse. These limbering-up days are great. Shame there won't be time for coffee stops when we're doing the
Etape.
It's Saturday evening now. The hotel is now full of cyclists from Britain and other parts of the world, reassembling bikes after a journey by car or plane, checking the route, talking excitedly about gear ratios, and wondering if tonight's dinner will be pasta.
Lonely Planet author David Else is in France to take part in L'Etape du Tour - cycling through the Pyrenees on the trail of the Tour de France. This is the fifth of a series of blog posts.
Labels: cycling, Etape du Tour, Europe, France, Pyrenees
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Posted Friday, July 13, 2007, 1:31 PM by Lonely Planet
We broke the journey through France with an overnight stop in Paris, and this morning (Friday) had a short stroll near the Seine, admiring the sleek new architecture of the Defense district. Eiffel Tower it ain't.
Then onwards to Toulouse. Lunch was at a charming motorway service station: a chance to buy a cafe au lait and a copy of L'Equipe newspaper to get the latest reports about the Tour de France, currently on stage 6, still with about two weeks to go.
For the Tour de France professionals, each day is a race within a race, as every top rider wants to win a stage, but they must also remember the big picture: the chance of overall victory of the Tour de France itself, and that means consistently high placings every day.
That puts our little Etape jaunt in perspective. It may be a daunting 190km over five major passes, but the Tour de France boys will ride the same distance as us, twice as fast, then do it again and again, for 21 days virtually back-to-back. The only small comfort we can claim is this: Foix and Loudenvielle is reckoned to be one of the hardest stages of this year's Tour, and quite possibly a decider. As the old hands say, "the toughest battles are always fought in the mountains".
We reached our hotel in Toulouse this evening, in time for dinner. Pasta, of course. It's a relief to get the coach travel over and done with. Tomorrow we can get the bikes out and start getting properly limbered up for Monday's jolly big ride. It'll be great to be cycling again. And in glorious weather too - according to the meteo. All we need to remember is the sun cream, and to ride on the right side of the road...
Lonely Planet author David Else is in France to take part in L'Etape du Tour - cycling through the Pyrenees on the trail of the Tour de France. This is the fourth of a series of blog posts.
Labels: cycling, Etape du Tour, Europe, France, Pyrenees
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Posted Thursday, July 12, 2007, 2:48 PM by Lonely Planet
Our final preparations for the Etape du Tour yesterday evening consisted of two main activities: packing bikes into boxes for the journey to France - and eating tons of pasta.
Pasta has been called the cyclist's best friend. Among other things. For the next few days we'll be enjoying this carbohydrate favourite at pretty much every meal, stock-piling energy to pound up the Pyrenean mountains on the big day.
That's the theory. Some experts say it's pointless carbo-loading too soon and just one huge pasta meal the night before is all that's required. Who knows? Anyway, we like pasta - so endless spaghetti, conchiglie and lasagne is no real hardship.
Today (Thursday), we joined a group of other cyclists from Britain, loaded the bikes onto a trailer and travelled by coach to Dover, then by boat across the English Channel. It rained most of the way. Because we didn't get out on the bikes today, and to remind us that the sun does shine in Britain sometimes, here's a picture from a 160km sportive called the Richmond Five Dales that we did as a training ride a couple of months ago.
Thankfully, by the time we got to Paris this evening the sun was out. A friend already in Toulouse near the start of the Etape sent a SMS to say the weather in the Pyrenees was great and that the first Etape cyclists were arriving.
The Tour de France has been going for a few days now. While the Spanish may go crazy for football, and the Americans for baseball - the French just love cycling. They say when the Tour de France is happening the government could fall and no-one would notice.
We'll try and catch the TV news later to check the Tour de France results, and see how the British and Aussie riders are getting on.
It's another drive south tomorrow, and just three days before we get a chance to sample the thrills and the hardship, the pain and the pleasure, and - yes indeed - the agony and the ecstasy enjoyed by the Tour de France professionals.
Lonely Planet author David Else is heading for France to take part in L'Etape du Tour - cycling through the Pyrenees on the trail of the Tour de France. This is the third of a series of blog posts.
Labels: Europe
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Posted Wednesday, July 11, 2007, 6:02 AM by Lonely Planet
For the past few days, we've been watching the Tour de France on TV. It's the biggest annual sporting event in the world, and one of the hardest. So plenty of inspiration for our big Etape ride next Monday. And especially inspiring for us Brits, because this year the Tour de France started in London.
London? Yes. The Tour de France is effectively a 'tour de Europe' and usually includes sections through any of Germany, Belgium, Netherlands, Luxemburg, Switzerland and Spain - and occasionally Britain too - although the bulk of the race is still in France. So the 2007 'grand depart' saw the riders passing the Tower of London, to be flagged off by the mayor on Tower Bridge. The crowds were large and enthusiastic. People everywhere, waving banners and cheering like crazy. For one day at least, Britain looked like France.
The Etape will be our chance to get some of this flavour, to sample a single day-stage of the Tour de France, to ride in the wheel tracks of the finest professional cyclists in the world.
Although actually, the pros will be riding in our tracks. We pedal the 190km between the French towns of Foix and Loudenvielle on the 16th July, and the big boys hammer along the same road on the 23rd. And while 200 of the world's elite cyclists ride the Tour de France, there'll be 7000 of us riding the Etape. Cyclists come from all over the world, then many stay on to watch the Tour itself. Lucky buggers. Unfortunately, I'll be heading straight back home. And straight back to the TV.
I'm riding the Etape with three old buddies. Old is the operative word, said one observer, kindly. We went out for a little ride today, the last before we leave, just to check the bikes (and the legs) are all in working order. Here's a team photo:
The Etape is called a sportive - and as part of our training for the French event we rode a few sportives here in Britain. This photo was taken last month after we'd finished a ride called the Polka Dot Challenge. It was a bit damp. Typical British weather some may say - although not for June. But we covered the hilly 100 mile (160km) course in just under 6 hours.
At least the times are getting shorter as we get nearer the big day...
Lonely Planet author David Else is heading for France to take part in L'Etape du Tour - cycling through the Pyrenees on the trail of the Tour de France. This is the second of a series of blog posts.
Labels: Europe
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Posted Tuesday, July 10, 2007, 7:38 AM by Lonely Planet
Lonely Planet author David Else is about to set off for France to take part in the Etape du Tour - cycling through the Pyrenees on the trail of the Tour de France. In the first of a series of blog posts, David describes the training and preparation for his jolly big bike ride.
It all started when I couldn't fit into a pair of trousers. My wife said I had middle-age spread, so I started jogging and then took up (again) some half-serious cycling. One thing led to another and a friend proposed L'Etape du Tour - a 190km (120-mile) jaunt through the Pyrenees, on roads used by the Tour de France - one of the toughest sporting challenges in the world. 'Sign me up', I said. 'Middle-age spread? Middle-age crisis more like', said another friend.
That was back in January. Since then I've been training for the Etape, with those same two friends, going out for increasingly long bike-rides to get in shape.
We went up a stack of hilly roads in Northern England, like the one pictured here (Honister Pass in the Lake District), raising the distance week by week, month by month.
Some of those training rides were killers, but hopefully it will all be worthwhile. We leave for France on Thursday, ready for the big day on Monday 16th.
Today I must admit to feeling a bit nervous. The Etape du Tour is revered by most cyclists like the New York Marathon is revered by most runners. The Yorkshire Dales had some steep gradients when we were training, but will we be ready for the peaks of the Pyrenees?
As well as the distance there's about 4500m of total ascent. That's about half the height of Everest.
And we can't hang around. The fastest riders will do the 190km in about 6 hours. The slowest in about 11. Anything slower means disqualification. We're aiming for something between 8 and 9 hours.
We've got a final training ride tomorrow. Just a leg-loosener. The groundwork is all done now, and if we're not up to scratch it's too late to do anything about it. C'est l'Etape. Bon nuit.
Labels: cycling, Etape du Tour, Europe, France, Pyrenees
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Posted Sunday, July 08, 2007, 11:28 PM by Lonely Planet
Here, where history is delicate and fresh, revolution is a dangerous word. Hundreds were exiled for imagining a post-Apartheid state, and millions suffered trying to outlive it. But in the sleepy tourist town of Hoedspruit, on the edge of Kruger National Park, fifteen young Shangaan and Sotho women are learning to tell their stories straight.
- Volunteers at the Amazwi School of Media Arts
At the Amazwi School of Media Arts, South Africa, it's time for an editorial meeting. The first edition of the signature publication, The Amazwi Villager, is just three weeks away, and the students are restless to see their names on the page.
One-by-one topics are revealed; the threads are hope and life and struggle. But death, it seems, is everywhere. There's a profile of a prosperous coffin-maker, a tombstone carver, an investigation into Burial Societies, a day-in-the-line at a hospital, plus a staple diet of abortion, AIDS and TB.
"Aish, this journalism stuff is too hard!" moans Thandi, 22, for whom writing stories is in fact too easy. On her first assignment, Thandi spent an evening at a local shebeen (unlicensed bar), witnessed one stabbing and another near-death, and wrote it all up with poetry and poise.
Her teammate, Siphiwe, 27, is a bronze Sotho athlete with high cheekbones - the right side stamped with a ceremonial scar - and a broad, ready smile. She wants to be a sports broadcaster, but for now, it's an illegal immigrant from Mozambique who fills her days.
Meanwhile, Bongekile, the accomplished, unofficial matriarch of the group, is trying to sort through the mess of government housing.
The class-come-newsroom bristles with mess and noise. Copies of the Daily Sun change hands like winter gloves, and Gloria, this week's blogger, writes a celebration of feminine might.
- Tom Spurling is volunteering at the Amazwi School of Media Arts, South Africa, where he is helping students write for their new publication The Amazwi Villager
Share your volunteering experience or for more information on volunteering click here.
Labels: Africa, Sustainable and responsible tourism, Volunteer
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The Hanging Gardens of Babylon are out and the Taj Mahal is in as the world is introduced to the "new seven wonders" in a contest run by the private NewOpenWorld Foundation. The campaign which aimed to update the original list of wonders, drawn up about 200BC, attracted more than 100 million votes for the world's top architectural marvels.
The Sydney Opera House and New York's Statue of Liberty didn't make the final cut, neither did traveller favourites such as Angkor Wat. The biggest surprise however, was the Pyramids of Giza - the only wonder remaining from the original list - failed to make the grade.
The New Seven Wonders of the World
Great Wall of China
Taj Mahal, India
Petra, Jordan
Colosseum, Rome
Christ Redeemer, Rio de Janeiro
Machu Picchu, Peru
Chichen Itza, Mexico
What's your opinion of the new list? Is your favourite "wonder of the world" missing? Tell us what you think.
Labels: Travelsnitch
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Posted Thursday, July 05, 2007, 9:23 PM by Lonely Planet
What's Amora? "The world's first visitor attraction dedicated to love, sex and relationships" according to its creators. What about those erotic museums that pop up all over the world, offering decidedly unerotic and not-normally-cheap thrills - is this any different?
The latest attraction at London's Trocadero Centre may be something new. Charging ten pounds a person, the museum is neatly split into eight sections from dating and flirting to the remarkable Amorgasm, the orgasm tunnel. The areas are designed to educate and explore what you think you know about love, sex and relationships via interactive displays. Highlights include the Spankometer, which gauges your fetish skills and in the Amora Sutra room you can explore new sexual positions with a touch screen computer and a 7 foot wide projection at your debauched disposal.
There is a serious side to Amora. At the end of the experience is a bright room clearly outlining the facts and potential risks of various peccadiloes. It's pretty well done - it makes you think without feeling preachy.
While Amora is fun and lacks the seedy nature of other sex museum experiences, it tries too hard to remain tongue in cheek and some of the information is repeated or too obvious. This is however a place that will bring you several smiles and a few naughty ideas.
- Aaron Lamb
So will Amora catch on, or will it join the graveyard of good ideas that hung around Piccadilly Circus before fizzling out, like the Guiness World of Records and the scary wax of Rock Circus? Well, what do you think?
Labels: Europe
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Posted Monday, July 02, 2007, 9:23 PM by Lonely Planet
Now I know there are those who argue that the best service the crab can do for mankind is to be the filling of a crab cocktail, sitting easily on a bed of shredded lettuce smothered in a Marie Rose sauce. But they are wrong. Because in reality the humble decapod crustacean only truly comes into its own when paired with the red glow of the Singapore Chilli Crab sauce. This is the apogee of crab cuisine and is never better enjoyed than at the renovated Newton Circle food centre (500 Clemenceau Avenue North) in the City State. What could be more agreeable than a short inspection of the dozen or more crab stalls, poking at the dark muddies in their cages for signs of activity and grabbing the fastest runner before carrying him pincers high to the weighbridge. Whilst he is cooking take in an oyster omelette and the first ice cold Tiger before clearing the decks tying on the bib, sucking out the pure white flesh and dipping it in the steaming sauce. Oh, such melding of flavours, such bliss.
- K Raphael
For more Singapore hawker food head to:
Adam Road Food Centre (cnr Adam & Dunearn Rds; 6am-3am) Try the char kway teow (broad noodles, clams and eggs fried in chilli and black-bean sauce) or barbecued stingray.
Chinatown Complex Food Centre (Smith St; 9am-11pm) More than 150 cheap, grungy and magically authentic stalls. Tuck into roast duck and rice.
Lavender Food Centre (cnr Jln Besar & Foch Rd; 11am-3am) The won-ton noodles are worth queuing for.
Lau Pa Sat (18 Raffles Quay; 24hrs) Steamed dim sum, chilli crab and sizzling satay.
Labels: Asia and Pacific, Culinary culture
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The 36-seat plane is tiny, but so is the archipelago we're flying to on this morning flight from Montreal. Quebec's Iles de la Madeleine consist of a dozen islands with a population of just over 12,000. However, they have plentiful supplies of the important things in life: 350km of beach and a selection of boites a chansons offering live music most nights during the summer.
The plane's passengers, mostly French-speaking Quebecois tourists, emit a murmur of appreciation as we circle above a cresecent-shaped beach. It's like a rollercoaster ride. I'm wondering if there will be any Canada Day festivities here. The nationwide celebration of all things Canuck sees red-and-white-painted crowds fill the streets from Ottawa to Vancouver. However, not only are the islands part of a province with separatist leanings, but they're separated from the mainland by 215km of water.
Could this be a muted celebration?
As it turns out, there is a beach party planned for that night, and it receives mixed reactions from the islanders. The guy who runs my hostel says he's going to watch the firework show, then changes his tune when a guest informs him what the spectacle's in aid of. The manager of Pas Perdus bar hasn't heard about the party, but is keen to go when I tell him about it.
The event is a mellow affair, with kids playing in the sand and their parents drinking from a bar selling 'liqueur, eau, jus, chips, biere, Smirnoff'. It's much like a day at the beach, except it's the middle of the night and there's a country band playing. As the fireworks explode above the lights of boats bobbing on the dark water, I hear the day's second general sigh of appreciation. Quebec may have its separatist ambitions, but here on Iles de la Madeleine, any excuse to gather on the beach and drink Molson Dry will do.
James Bainbridge is currently researching the Quebec section of the upcoming Canada guide.
Labels: Festivals and events, The Americas
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