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unique travel iSSue #22

GST INCLUDED $6.95

22

“WIThoUT NEW

ExpErIENCES, SomEThING INSIDE of US SLEEpS. ThE SLEEpEr m

UST aWakEN.” fraNk hErbErT abU DhabI I braZIL I ChINa I CoLom

bIa I fraNCE I INDIa I JapaN I LESoTho I maLaYSIa I ThE phILIppINES I SCoTLaND

holidays you’ll never forget!

ISSN 1449-3543

france biking brittany

indiaSlum SceneS

leSothohorSeS and dinoSaurS

Scotlandnye in edinburgh

china women’S buSineSS

colombia cartagena uncovered

a movie star trip toWin LA!SEE INSIDE FOR DETAILS

www.getlostmag.com

brazil Salvador SightShong kong get feaStingmalaySia 24 hourS in kl

JUMP IN the PhiliPPineS& Swim with whale SharkS

GL22 Cover FINAL 3.indd 1 20/8/09 6:19:11 PM

get in the know! Brittany is also a breed of dog, bred primarily for bird hunting.

france

It is a very Irish moment and there have been many of those in my fortnight of travelling around Brittany. Its Celtic past echoes through windswept coastlines, wild moors, picturesque seaside villages, luridly coloured pubs with names such as Le Donegal and megalithic standing stones.

Belle-Île-En-Mer is a microcosmic Brittany, with everything typically Breton packed into its barely 80km-square coastline. My circumnavigation of it by bike is unplanned, as the best adventures usually are. The evening before I ferried across the Gulf of Morbihan from Quiberon on the south coast of Brittany to Le Palais, Belle-Île’s capital.

Awakening to a perfect blue-sky day, the charming directrice of hotel Le Cardinal suggests I bike at least a few kilometres to the northern tip of the island – the Pointe des Poulains – and visit the museum dedicated to flamboyant French actress Sarah Bernhardt. Bernhardt fell in love with the island’s wildness on her first visit in 1894, and by the time I leave the place where

text: tamara thiessen

images: tamara thiessen

Somewhere between my bike chain falling off on the edge of a paddock and descending downhill like a rocket towards

Donnant Plage’s stunning beach dunes, i stop to take photos of some Friesian cows. as i do so, a guy pulls up in a rent-a-buggy, leans over his companion and proclaims with a big cheesy grin: “moi je suis maurice – cela c’est une vache.” i am maurice, that is a cow.

“Bonjour monsieur, I am glad you can tell the difference between the two,” I reply in French to the great amusement of the two mini Maurices in the back of the buggy. The Maurice family drive off, waving, seemingly happy with our droll exchange.

The madcap spontaneity of the incident caps off a delightful day of bicycling around Belle-Île-En-Mer, the beautiful island on the (Atlantic) sea, the spectacularly craggy seashore and colourful harbours of which were splattered in pretty pastels by Claude Monet.

breezing through

brittany

#32 get lost! ISSUE #22

tamara thiessen downed loads of cider and butter biscuits as she drove, cycled and boated her way between the picturesque ports, wild coastline and crêperies of brittany.

GL21 32-36 Brittany 05.indd 32 24/8/09 1:17:16 PM

get in the know! Crépes originated in Brittany and are now considered a national dish of France.

she built her home I feel myself doing the same. Likened to the ship’s bow of Belle-Île, the meadow- flower-coated promontory projects into the wild sea, its sheer cliffs eroded into spikes called ‘polenn’ in Breton, the local language, and encircled by marine birds.

I set off among a flock of cyclotourists who are revelling in the early summer heat and low season crowds as they follow the signs reading ‘Circuit en Velo’ – the bike tour of the island. Faced with the choice of doing the same or returning to the hotel swimming pool I press ahead until my legs are falling off, my skin peeling off, and I have seen every one of the sights I had planned on seeing leisurely over a couple of days.

Twenty kilometres long and five to nine kilometres wide, Belle-Île-En-Mer is a day bike trip a la carte, even for the most amateur cyclist. On a mix of peaceful country roads, village lanes and precipitous unsealed roads, I pedal my way to the dune-land wonders and local surf scene

ISSUE #22 get lost! #33

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’’on a mix of peaceful country roads, village lanes and

precipitous unsealed roads, i pedal my way to the dune- land wonders and local surf scene on Donnant Plage.


#34 get lost! ISSUE #22 get in the know! The English Channel, which separates England from France, is only 34km wide at its narrowest point.

Dinan market

Aiguilles de Port Coton

Dinan... dominates the rance Valley with its

remarkably preserved medieval fortifications,

gothic churches and carved-wood houses.

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’’on Donnant Plage, then get harassed by large Neolithic-looking seagulls at the Aiguilles de Port Coton, whose needle-shaped rocks stick up out of the deep blue bay like a chain of rocky teeth.

From there I set off to the 87-metre-high lighthouse, the Grand Phare de Goulphar, climb its 213 steps and brave both the height and the winds to get an unparalleled view over Belle-Île. Strangely, the island looks pancake-flat from up high and I can see none of the hills which have been causing me so much grief while on two wheels.

Sunburnt, whacked yet deeply content, I feel I have experienced the best of Brittany in a day: drinking up the coastal scenery, fuelling up on buckwheat goat cheese-filled galettes, coming face to face with rural life and locals, including the farmer without whose help I would not have been back on my bike.

While a Sydneysider may prefer the shimmering hot Cote d’Azur, a Tasmanian like myself is drawn to Brittany. I venture that anyone with a penchant for maritime wildness, authentic people, and rustic landscapes will feel a strong affinity with the region.

My first trip to the sea-girthed region was in 1998, at the beginning of what has now been a decade of living between Australia and France. My Parisian friends Hervé and Laurence invited me to their family weekender on the northern Brittany Côtes d’Armor – it might sound like love, but the name comes from the Breton word armorique, meaning ‘land of the sea’.

Despite the drizzle, I left invigorated by the sea air, coastal hikes and regional food. I felt the most connected with home I had done in months: there were surfboards leaning against the house and apple trees in the backyard. My strongest memories include the seawalls and remarkable tides of Saint-Malo; eating oysters in Dinard – the palm-lined resort full of casinos, cafes and turreted Tudor-style mansions; hiking part of the old coastal customs officer trail – le sentier des


ISSUE #22 get lost! #35

france

get in the know! The word France is derived from the Latin word francia, meaning ‘land of the franks’.

Megaliths – Allee Couvert, Granite Rose coastline

Dinan

Dinan Port

Clos and place du Guesclin. The market spread between its dashing perimeter of stone mansions – maisons bourgeoises – is no less lively in the rain. From here I take the rue du Jerzual, a street fit for mountain goats, down through the old city walls to Dinan port.

It is then, fattening myself up on grandma’s cooking at Chez Mère Pourcel, that I realise Brittany should have an entry sign: Cholesterol Fear-Free Zone. Butter and Brittany go together like oysters and the sea: my diet is dominated by butter biscuits, salty butter caramel, seaweed butter, buttery seafood and crêpes and Kouign Amman Breton butter cake.

The next day I drive the 350km Côtes d’Armor, from the Côte d’Emeraude (Emerald Coastline) named after the colour of the sea off Saint-Malo, along the Côte des Ajoncs – the gorse-thick coastline to the Côte de Granit Rose, (Granite Rose Coast), famous for its phenomenal pink

granite rocks. Nicolas, the owner of the Hotel d’Avaugour, is horrified that I would attempt to cover that distance in a day – I tell him it is quite typical in Australian terms.

By driving, I get to visit out-of-the-way places – the ‘petite city of character’, Jugon-Les-Lacs, on the forested shores of a four-kilometre lake; the fourteenth-century feudal castle Fort La Latte with its 360-degree views over the Emerald Coast; and the lighthouse on Cap Frehel, whose pink sandstone cliffs plunge 70 metres to the sea. I stop in Paimpol and in Treguier – a medieval treasure-chest of belltowers, gothic arcades and religious cloisters – and see the weird collection of 58 elliptical prehistoric stones, the megaliths of Tossen Keller.

The welcome at Ti Al Lannec, a family-run mansion at Trébeurden on the Granite Rose coast, does wonders for my weariness.

douaniers – with its blooming yellow mimosa; gabled stone farm houses with fading Pernot signs; and copious crêpes and cider.

Since that visit, I had seen just a couple more snatches of the region, until last year – when I set off to cover some 3,000km of backcountry Brittany, by train, car, boat and bike. Train trips in Brittany are all about local connection. On the quay in Guingamp a young backpacker from Montreal tells me of his relief, after a few days in Paris, to feel the familiar friendliness and relaxed pace of life in Brittany. At that moment, a conductor approaches me: “Bonjour Mademoiselle. Are you the young lady who is going on to Dinan?” He points to a couple of carriages on another platform. “That is your train, so just settle in there if you are cold.”

Dinan, not to be confused with Dinard on the coast, dominates the Rance Valley with its remarkably preserved medieval fortifications, gothic churches and carved-wood houses. With a map from the tourism office, I pursue the Circuit du Vieux Dinan (the old town tour), starting on the vast and elegant town squares, place du Champ


#38 get lost! ISSUE #22 get in the know! Whale sharks live for up to 100 years.

the philippines

GL22 philippines-5.indd 38 24/8/09 5:45:41 PM

ISSUE #22 get lost! #39get in the know! In Vietnam, butandings are known as “Ca Ong” or “Sir Fish”.

Justin Jamieson confronts his fear of sharks head-on at a surprisingly undiscovered jewel in the Philippines.

Now, Now!” yells elmer our BIo (Butanding Interaction officer) as we scramble to strap on our goggles and

flippers. “Quickly, quickly!” he yells again. I scoot to the edge of the bangka (the local form of water transport), and drop into the warm blue sea. The bangka’s outrigger drifts over my head and I’m left bobbing, preparing to ook down knowing full well that below me is anything from a four- to 12-metre-long whale shark.

Even though I’m aware that these toothless gentle giants pose no threat, my heart still pounds thunderously. After all, I’m the guy who wouldn’t swim in an above-ground swimming pool for five months after seeing Jaws. The never-ending blue below me is as disconcerting as it always is. Will the beast come rising up out of the depths like on the cover of the Jaws video? I hear some thrashing behind me and look around. Swimming frantically towards me is AA Yaptinchay, my guide and one of the men responsible for the development of the whale shark experience here in Donsol. Is his face

text: justin jamieson

images: justin jamieson//aa yaptinchay

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left hand corner title

#40 get lost! ISSUE #22 get in the know! Whale sharks have rows of up to 350 teeth.

wide with fear? No, it’s full of excitement. As I look below him I realise why.

Right there, almost two metres in diameter, is the mouth of a slow-cruising whale shark only a few body lengths behind us and only a duck- dive deep. It seems to be smiling as it moves closer, its mouth opening slowly, wide enough now to swallow not only me, but AA as well. I’ve mentioned my fear of sharks, but not in my most bone-chilling nightmares had I imagined being swallowed by one whole. Of course, there is nothing to fear; the big fish is more interested in krill than the kill. As it swims at arm’s length below me I move above it, close enough to grab its menacing movie-made dorsal fin.

For the next ten minutes we swim with our new friend, diving down, under and alongside

Up close and with adrenaline charged, I’d guess this one’s almost 20 metres long. In reality he’s closer to eight metres, but when you’re that close there really is no difference.

Back on the bangka, we’re buzzing and high-fives are a plenty. Even AA, who has been swimming with the butandings (the local name for whale sharks) for nearly ten years, has a

grin from ear to ear. “It’s always a thrill,” he exclaims. “Every time!”

Our bangka putters back around as Elmer squints into the rising sun. Suddenly he barks again. “There! There! Quickly, get ready!” Once more we’re on the edge of the bangka, plunging in on Elmer’s orders and swimming with another butanding – this time a bit more adventurously.

Donsol, in the Bicol region of the Philippines, has the highest concentration of whale

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him as he (I’m sure all sharks must be male) feeds through the warm sea. He’s moving at such an ambling pace that I have time to swim ahead and stop to take a picture. He changes direction just enough to avoid me. I’m a small nuisance to his morning, and even when I’m swimming so close our heads are less than a metre apart, he seems almost oblivious to

my existence. His boredom with us becomes evident when he descends out of sight and into the deep blue. It’s only as he passes below me that I realise just how big he is; first his head passes, then his large dorsal fin and finally his huge tail fin, fanning in slow motion. In Kenya they call whale sharks “Papa Shillings”, in reference to the silver dollar-like markings on the sharks’ bodies. The markings glitter like the night sky as the great fish cruises past.

It seems to be smiling as it moves closer, its mouth opening slowly, wide enough now to swallow not only me, but AA as well.


ISSUE #22 get lost! #41get in the know! The largest whale shark caught was 13 metres long but they are thought to reach up to 18 metres.

the philippines

sharks in the world, which makes it even more surprising that the opportunity for tourists to interact with them began only eleven years ago. Prior to this, the whale sharks were hunted by local fishermen for food and the lure of export dollars from other parts of the world that consider the fish a delicacy. AA and his band of WWF eco-warriors realised the only way to save the dwindling numbers of whale sharks was to convince the locals that tourism was the road to riches. Even though the Philippine government banned the killing and harming of whale sharks in 1998, it has still been a long road to recovery. It’s a difficult balancing act to ensure that tourism doesn’t eventually become so popular that the whale sharks are crowded out of Donsol. In the meantime, the pressure is on to ensure that whale shark interaction is as eco-friendly as possible, with each bangka assigned a BIO to ensure that green rules are enforced.

With the sun high, it’s time to head in. We’ve had no less than five different interactions in the space of four hours, and our stomachs are rumbling at the thought of lunch. It’s quite tiring work swimming alongside the big butandings, and only after the adrenaline wears off do you realise how exhausted you are. A cold San Miguel beer at the Baracuda Bar, a beach bar run by the gregarious Juliet, is the perfect way to wash down some fresh seafood. Juliet is one of the many local characters who have set up business to service the increasing number of butanding tourists with an array of adventurous activities.

Of these, a day island hopping is an absolute must. With a local bangka costing less than fifty US dollars a day, exploring the isolated fishing villages, waterfalls and snorkelling spots is unforgettable. This part of the Philippines is straight out of a tourist brochure, but with the added advantage of having very few tourists. Our bangka’s first stop is one such fishing village, built between two pristine beaches on Ticao Island. As we swim ashore we’re welcomed by the local children, swimming out with all manner of inflatables to greet us. The adults are busy packing their fish for the markets and are happy to indicate their plans with a few key gestures. We walk past wooden huts with old clothes hanging out to dry on picket fences made from sticks. One of the local children shows us his pet rooster as the other kids gather to pose for pictures, typically more excited to see themselves on the screen than anything else. These people literally live on the beach, completely self-sufficient, reliant on the sea and completely isolated from the outside world.

We lunch on Burabongkaso Island, snorkelling the pristine waters and lying on the white sand to dry in the soothing sun. Fishing bangkas cruise past sporadically, some powered by engines and some by oars. As we motor back towards Donsol, small bungalows dot the

ATV up the Mayon lava flow.

Island hopping on a bangka.


confessions

Seeking fame and fortune, Luke Wright gets kitted out in a kilt in KL.

text: luke wright

images: www.sxc.hu

#96 get lost! ISSUE #22

I’ve done a Lot of dIfferent thIngS to earn money while on the road. I’ve picked and packed fruits, I’ve chipped endless rows

of cotton, I’ve handed out flyers to tourists, I’ve exported antique textiles, and I’ve even dabbled in selling llama yarn from Bolivia. But no holiday job is more memorable than the four days I spent starring in an action-packed Mtv music video.

If I’ve made you think of an R&B scene onboard a luxurious mega-yacht – jacuzzi, champagne, babes and bling included – think again. This wasn’t a big budget film clip set in the Bahamas. I’m not built like 50 Cent. No, I’m a nondescript white guy, and this was an ultra low-budget affair filmed in the outer suburbs of Kuala Lumpur. The artist: a little-known performer from southern Sweden called Dr Macdoo. The song: ‘Under the Kilt’.

It all began in a Chinatown noodle noshery. There I was, absentmindedly slurping on a bowl of KL’s finest with my girlfriend when an enthusiastic local lady with an American-movie accent politely interrupted us.

“Hey, you guys!” she drawled. “Do you want to be in an MTV music video?”

Like many seasoned travellers, I’m tuned into any unusual offers and opportunities that come my way when on the road. I’m always ready to dive right in the deep end of a strange situation in a foreign country. It almost always makes great fodder for dinner-table conversations. My Swedish girlfriend, for whom Dr Macdoo was a familiar name, was of the same opinion. So, without hesitation, it was agreed that we’d begin filming a music video at 5am the next day.

Not knowing a thing about Dr Macdoo, I read up on him that night. Jonny Jacobsen, an unassuming carpenter from Malmö, Sweden, decided to down tools one day and try his luck with Bubblegum music – a piss-take on the

Eurodance music that was popular in the 1990s. Using the stage name Jonny Moonshine, Jacobsen’s first foray into the world of humorous music parody was a resounding failure. Not one to be easily put-off, he reinvented himself and unveiled a new character, Dr Bombay. Bizarrely, this satirical take on a curry-gobbling taxi driver from Calcutta had some global success, with big-selling songs worldwide, particularly in Japan and (oddly) India. ‘Rice & Curry’, ‘The Tiger Took My Family’, ‘Taxi Taxi Taxi’, are a few of his hit songs. Not content with his success, Jacobsen reinvented himself one more time with a character called Dr Macdoo – a hard drinking, bagpipe playing, four-eyed Scotsman

on rollerskates. He chose Kuala Lumpur as the location to shoot the video for his first single.

At 4.45am, we bundled into a taxi to get to the first location. The Malaysian-Indian driver was annoyingly chirpy at this ungodly hour. After a few unsuccessful attempts to drag me into a conversation about my marriage status and the number of siblings I had, he gave up and pressed play on an antiquated cassette player. In what can only be described as some sort of divine act, Dr Bombay began blurting loudly from the speakers. Taxi, taxi, taxi; I am a taxi driver in Calcutta. The driver, extremely pleased with my sudden keenness at hearing this song, cranked the speakers even louder and sang along. I drive my little taxi in Calcutta, Cala-Cala-Cutta-Cutta-Cala-Cala-Cutta-Cutta. I was unsuccessful in my attempt to explain

to the driver that I was about to spend four days dancing around in a tartan skirt with the same man singing from his speakers.

The following days filming ‘Under the Kilt’ were some of the most unusual and fun I’ve ever had while travelling. I had gone from a scraggly- bearded backpacker one day, to a bona fide star (with my own make-up artist) the next. Okay, dancing stupidly in a skirt, jumping about in a pink bus, pillow-fighting on a greased pole, pretending to be hit on the head with a golf ball, and being slammed with a cream pie in the face, might not exactly put me in the ‘star’ category. But for the crowds of locals who gathered in the outer suburbs of KL each day to watch us, we might have been

the closest thing to celebrities they’d ever seen.It is here that I must make a heartfelt confession. I’m not sure if it was the heat or the overeating at the catering van buffet that did it. Dizzy with my newfound fame as an extra in a piss-take film clip for a quirky Swede dressed as a Scotsman, I swaggered over to a group of teenage girls and casually signed a series of autographs for each of them. I might have even posed for a photo or two. I don’t know what overcame me.

I never did find out if ‘Under the Kilt’ ever made it to MTV. But I do know that if you go to YouTube and search for it, you’ll see me (if you look closely) in all my three minutes and sixteen seconds of fame. At last count it had 125,710 views. Approximately 11,000 of those are my own. Autographs are available on request.www.youtube.com/watch?v=t2S3ktjXgeQ

the following days filming ‘Under the Kilt’ were some of the most unusual and fun I’ve ever had while travelling. I had gone from a scraggly-bearded backpacker one day, to a bona fide star (with my own make-up artist)...

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get in the know! Outside of Scotland, the kilt is sometimes traditionally worn in places such as Ireland, Wales, England, the Isle of Man, France and Portugal.

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