If you’re the sort of person who watches a bit of reality TV, has a hot Milo and is in bed by 10pm on a Monday night, you’re probably going to want to move on right about now. However, if you treat every night like an equal opportunity party while you’re on holiday, you’ll be completely sorted in the Spanish capital Madrid.
Once you’ve eaten all the tapas, watched some flamenco and the people promenading on Plaza Santa Ana, and tasted both sherry and locally brewed cerveza, it’s time to dance it out at Fucking Monday. This temple to debauchery has a vast dance floor, rows of bars and even a slick lounge upstairs that hosts an all-night beer pong tournament. Here you’ll discover the kind of fun that can make you want to keep partying, fuelled by cheap drinks and the crowd’s fierce energy, right through till dawn.
The peculiar trees in Poland’s Crooked Forest in Krzywy Las look more like an upside down question mark – a fitting shape for the puzzling place. Shrouded in mystery, the trees were planted in the 1920s and 30s, however the question behind the warped shape of these pines, while largely debated for decades, remains unknown.
Some theorise that tanks passing during World War Two pushed them aside and they have been stuck ever since. Others believe they were covered by a heavy snowstorm in the early years of their lives and when spring came they could no longer stand tall. Surrounded by a larger forest of straight growing pines unaffected by this bizarre event, the true reason is likely to remain a secret.
A thirty-minute drive from the city of Szczecin in Poland’s northwest, the forest is easily accessible for those who are keen walkamong the unusual formations and ponder the theories of this fascinating enigma.
Getting to the ice cave is half the fun; taking control of a dog sled to venture into the great white wilderness part of the adventure. Kicking things off in the dog yard, you are introduced to 300 eager huskies waiting for their next tour. While you’re equipped with an exposure suit, your guide will harness and prepare the dogs for an epic adventure across frozen river beds, glaciers and on to an ice cave at the Scott Turner Glacier.
Cave access is via a small opening where you unceremoniously reverse through an inconspicuous entry before the caverns of silky-smooth ice layers become illuminated only by your headlamp. With the headlamp off, the immersion in darkness is so absolute it feels heavy.
Hand-holding your camera to snap off a shot just won’t do justice to this magical fissure in an ice mass that is hundreds of meters deep and more than a thousand years old. Using the widest possible lens and a sturdy tripod, frame a shot that shows the scale, diversity and magnitude of the cavern. Set your focus to a point at the back of the cave and shoot on full manual settings. Set your aperture to f/7.1 to f/11 and use a cable release or shutter timer to ensure a shake-free result. The most important element os a shutter speed of 10 to 20 seconds. Be ready for the shot and, as soon as the camera commences the exposure, use your headlamp to ‘paint’ the walls of the cavern with light as quickly and evenly as possible. Don’t stop until the exposure is complete. That’s it!
For extra points, have a fellow explorer positioned in the photo as far from the camera as possible to provide a sense of scale and to provide contrast with a familiar, living element in this otherworldly scene.
Staying in tents on Norway’s spectacular Lofoten Islands doesn’t necessarily mean roughing it. Wake up to the archipelago’s famous fjords right at your tent’s doorstep, in one of these traditional Sami tents designed by Off the Map Travel. The two-night, three-day glamping experience will introduce you to the local wildlife, while you immerse yourself in this picturesque landscape of fjords, mountains and lush green valleys.
Your days will be filled with cruises, visits to local farms, hikes and kayaking experiences, while you play I-Spy with the white-tailed sea eagles, porpoises and whales under the midnight sun. This pre-packaged experience also includes a wilderness catch-and-cook cooking class.
Hotels are fast becoming more than just a place to sleep. Zoku Amsterdam nails it by transforming a cosy abode into an office space then changes it back again. Lofts meld space efficiency with homey comforts – each boasts a kitchenette, nifty storage areas and chic decor. Your soft king-size bed, usually a hotel room centrepiece, is hidden away and accessible via a retractable staircase.
Beyond your loft, the top-floor open-plan common room is the place to get comfy and creative. Large windows lined with squishy couches and a hammock-dotted rooftop garden overlook the city. There’s also craft beer on tap, a games and music room, ping-pong table and high-speed wifi. The grab-and-go store offers tasty snacks or you can enjoy the breakfast buffet at one of the long communal tables and head to the bar in the afternoon for bevvies, olives and cheese plates.
Zoku also offers co-work memberships to local creative types, so you’re not only going to be surrounded by tourists either. Regular events, from acoustic music sessions to travel writing workshops, bring visitors and locals together.
Climbing into a saddle is a befitting way to exploring a rugged country steeped in history and legends. Meet your Freerein guide and get acquainted with your steed – you’ll be responsible for your horse’s care for the coming days – before you set out on your ride. On the four-day Welsh Prince Trail ride, you’ll begin by cantering along the velvet trails that score the Begwyns and Mynydd Epynt and overlook the Wye Valley, a breathtaking patchwork of greens, woodlands and babbling rivers.
Breathe in the fresh air as you climb Aberedw Hill, cross into the valley to Llanbedr Hill then walk the line at Hergest Ridge, the border between England and Wales. After a full day in the saddle, wind down beside a crackling fire and fill up on wholesome nosh at a cosy inn or bed and breakfast.
There are shorter rides available, and for those experienced on horseback, there’s also a number of self-guided riding tours available.
Sure, you may have sauntered in the temperate, tropical waters with humpback whales in Australia or Hawaii but swimming with orcas dwarfed by imposing glaciers and surrounding Norway’s icy oceans is next level exhilaration.
Both swimming with orcas and the Northern Lights are two experiences that usually feature at the top of most people’s bucket list and now you can get ‘twofer’ with eco-tourism company Majestic Whale Encounters who are offering both experiences in November.
The expedition starts as travellers embark the MS Stonstad, where six days are spent sailing through the stunning surroundings of the Norwegian Fjords before taking to the water to freely swim alongside the largest of the dolphin family – orca whales. Onboard the MS Stonstad passengers can treat themselves to a soak in the hot tub or enjoy the comforts of the central heating whilst waiting for a glimpse of the enchanting northern lights before disembarking at the town of Tromsø.
Once on land, guests will have the opportunity to participate in a husky safari and reindeer experience before retreating to the quaint cabins nestled at the base of Tromsø’s breathtaking mountains for a warming aquavit, seagull egg, or tørrfisk (dried cod).
The Majestic Whale Encounters’ Norway tour package includes six days onboard with all transfers, meals, orca swim, reindeer encounter, husky safari, Northern Lights tour and three nights accommodation in Tromsø. Get packing!
We’re bombing across a rocky, jet black plateau that looks like the kind of other-worldly place NASA would explore with a wheeled robot. “Do you want to know something about this road?” our guide asks us with a sly wink. “It’s a new road – but there was a problem. It passed through elf territory. So when the government built it they left gold as compensation to the elves. The gold was eventually taken away. It must have been the elves – who else would take it? At least that’s the story I was told!”
My girlfriend and I are in Iceland for a bit of quiet away from the urban crush of London. We’ve been told that this is one of the cleanest and greenest destinations worldwide. I wonder if we’ll see a clean-living elf recycling his rubbish by the side of the road.
I chuckle at the guide and turn to look out of the window at the bright northern sun rising over this scruffy lunar landscape just outside Reykjavik – it’s the very first glimpse of Iceland visitors get as their plane lands at Keflavik International Airport. We’re crossing the volcanic black Reykjanesskagi Peninsula at the south-western tip of Iceland to immerse ourselves in the country’s most famous tourist attraction.
The fact that a country’s most famous tourist attraction is a bubbling cauldron of geothermal energy says a lot about modern Iceland. This is a place where, the occasional aluminium smelter notwithstanding, the environment really matters. The natural world is literally the heart and soul of the island. The Icelanders realised long before green issues became fashionable in the 1990s that it was essential to protect their land to ensure their very survival. Now they use it in their tourism marketing too.
We screech into the empty car park of this volcanic Disneyland – the Blue Lagoon. It’s early and we’re the first tour bus in town. Lately, Iceland’s tourism has been promoting this isolated country at the very tip of Europe as a green utopia. They’ve whipped up sleek TV adverts showing hot Scandinavian couples paddling in bubbling geothermal pools; all of it backed by a stirring soundtrack of Sigur Rós – but more on the island’s music scene later.
Kitted out with trunks and towel, I strip off and wash myself down – getting into a pool in Iceland while dirty is like farting at the dinner table. You’ll be castigated for it. Cleaned up, I brave the icy wind blowing across the alfresco complex and make a dash for the hot spa pool. I wade in and feel the warm water cover me like a blanket.
The Blue Lagoon is not like anywhere I’ve been before. You won’t forget the blue-tinted, mineral-rich water heated to 40ºC by the earth’s magma, the steam clouds rising from the pools, the chilly breeze and the modern wooden pavilion where tourists buy souvenirs, eat lunch and get changed. My girlfriend rubs the famous silica mud onto my face and I wonder how many visits it will take to transform me into a more handsome human specimen, like the macho inhabitants
of the island, who all seem descended from muscular Vikings.
The Blue Lagoon, though thrilling, is in some ways a ruse – the water is essentially the excess outfall from the Svartsengi Power Station next door. But that’s Iceland for you; they make the best of what they’ve got. In much the same way that they ferment dead shark and then sell it to tourists as a delicacy called hakari – despite US superchef Anthony Bourdain saying it was the worst thing he’d ever tasted.
Geothermal power, though, is a green Icelandic trump card. The power station, which slips from view as we head back towards the centre of Reykjavik, is one of five that power a quarter of the kettles in the entire country and provide almost all the house heating, plus hot water from the tap. Most of the rest of the island’s power comes from hydro and wind. Eventually the government wants the nation to be 100 per cent free of fossil fuel power. No other country in our lifetime will ever come close to that.
But no other country is like Iceland. As we shoot through the low-rise suburbs of the capital city, it looks a bit like Oslo or Copenhagen. But fiercely proud Iceland still ploughs its own furrow. Its greatest shame is whaling, totally at odds with the environmental image it wants to portray, and tourism authorities would love to make the fishing lobby pack up and go home. You can take a boat trip out to the bay to watch majestic minke playing and wonder why the country still hunts them. Perhaps it’s partly because Icelanders are so independent.
Before the banking crisis in 2008, Iceland was at full steam ahead in its own weird economic miracle. It was famed for its rich citizens and high prices. Prices have dropped somewhat, but when I hand over a fistful of krónur for a beer, it still sends my pulse racing. “How much?” I mumble in my head. But the same go-it-alone mindset, which caused Iceland to inflate a reckless economic bubble, also allowed it to install kilometres of cycle lanes in the city, promote recycling and resist industrial development to give it some of the cleanest air and safest streets you’ll find. They did things their way, for better or worse. The singer Björk started a fund to help support green industry in the country and the city’s new tourist motto is ‘pure energy’.
Back in the city, we take a stroll round central Reykjavik to explore more. Seagulls flutter all around in the sky above. The streets are so clean you could eat your dinner off them. This small capital of low-rise, slat-panelled buildings painted in primary colours, as if by up-beat school kids, is easy to negotiate. It’s really just a big village. We pass multicoloured recycling boxes everywhere, and clean parks. We swing by the Thermal Beach – open May to August every year at the end of the domestic airport’s little runway, where hot springs heat the sea water and sand is imported from North Africa. There are hundreds of pools and ‘hot pots’ – hot tubs – scattered around this spa-mad city. We skirt the serene Tjörnin, a lake in the city’s centre surrounded by lush green grass. Cyclists and joggers are burning the calories off, a Scandinavian phlegmatic look painted on their faces. Renting a bike is easy and the city produces cycle path maps to get you from A to B. We agree to hire a bike next time we’re in town, but this time take the next best alternative: walking the wide pavements.
Trundling along the city’s main street, Laugavegur, my girlfriend’s eye is taken by a different type of recycling. The many vintage stores on the street compete with up-market boutiques for the city’s fashion-conscious girls. I look up and down the street at the handsome men and beautiful women joking around and speaking in such a deliciously tongue-tangling way to one another.
In view of the monumental concrete church tower of the Hallgrímskirkja, we stop in for a drink at Kaffibarinn – a top little bar that Blur’s Damon Albarn apparently loved so much he bought a share in it. An Anglophile sort of place, its sign looks like a London Underground roundel, but there’s plenty of Icelandic spirit inside. We sample shots of Brennivín (aka Black Death), a fiery, potatoey, vodka substitute that puts hairs on your chest. As the afternoon ticks on, the booze begins to kick in, and a group of local men burst into an impromptu rendition of a traditional sea shanty – a gruff baritone lament for the high seas. It sends tingles up my spine.
Music runs through the veins of Icelanders. It’s a national obsession that culminates each October with the Iceland Airwaves festival. Last year saw the new breed of Icelandic bands such as Amiina playing alongside US, European and Scandinavian talent. For a country of barely more than 300,000 people, Iceland boasts an impressive collection of modern bands like For a Minor Reflection, and the wonderful party-starting pop act FM Belfast, whose songs seem to be on in every shop and bar we visit over our weekend.
There’s an even more famous star in town this weekend though. Yoko Ono fell for the island because of its commitment to green energy and because it doesn’t have an army. On the anniversary of what would have been John Lennon’s 60th birthday, we watch Ono perform a concert with her and John’s son, Sean Lennon, at a concert hall. Ono tells of how much she loves Iceland, and the crowd whoop and cheer “I love you!” at her. The atmosphere crackles. In many ways the concert is as much a tribute to the free-spirited, eco-conscious islanders as it is to Lennon’s memory.
Ono’s other tribute to John and to Reykjavik is a boat-ride away, and it’s our final date with this loveable, liveable city. We take an eight-minute boat ride across the harbour to the tiny island of Videy.
The day is fading fast and the Atlantic wind whips across my face. I look down at the clear harbour water, my eyes straining to see fish or whales, but I’m beaten by the lack of light. Still, out here on the gently rolling waves, the air is as fresh and pure as any I’ve ever breathed. They should bottle it.
After a 15-minute walk over low green hillocks of Videy, and past a charming old priory, we are faced with a pillar of light shooting up into the night sky as far as the eye can see. The Imagine Peace Tower is, aptly, powered by geothermal energy and has become a new icon of green Reykjavik – a constant reminder of peace and love. With the words ‘imagine peace’ inscribed into its stone base in many languages, its light is visible all over the city. And that beam of light stands for peace, for ecology, for friendship and for fun – all the characteristics that Reykjavik has in spades.
When it comes to Finland, ski slopes and saunas are two things that are synonymous with the territory. But what about a sauna, built into a gondola floating above a snow-slathered mountain? Throw in some heavy metal music and traditional karelian pies (they’re filled with rice or mashed potato normally and topped with hard-boiled eggs), and you have yourself the ultimate Finnish experience.
Get your Finn on at Sport Resort Ylläs, where snow bunnies can unwind in the Ylläs 1 Gondola after a day carving up the slopes. The world’s first suspended sauna cruises a two-kilometre line, treating up to four riders at a time with 20 minutes of spectacular views of Lapland’s powder-white landscape.
Skiers looking for extra respite should book a two-hour package and soak in the outdoor hot tub at Café Gondola 718 (where there’s another sauna if you haven’t got sweaty enough), situated on the mountaintop. It can be enjoyed privately by up to a dozen guests.
Calling all wine lovers! All aboard the train des vignes – otherwise known as the vineyard train – which coasts past the stunning vineyard terraces in Lavaux. A UNESCO World Heritage Site home to 800 hectares of sprawling vineyards, complete with a backdrop of the Savoy and Valais Alps, this regional train from Vevey station to Puidoux-Chexbresoffers is your ticket to immersing yourself in Switzerland’s wine country.
Alight at Chexbres-Village Station, where you’ll find a number of walking trails that weave among the beautiful terraces. Prepare to send your tastebuds into a frenzy as you walk along a signposted trail that tells the story of the local vineyard here, including the yummy grape varieties that can be found. For those who aren’t so keen on tackling the incline by foot, the Lavaux Panoramic, a train with wheels. Cruise from Chexbres-Village along skinny roads that wend among the grapevines while learning about the region and enjoying the landscape.
There’s also the Lavaux Express, which chugs along a loop among the neatly manicured vine fields from Lutry and Cully. For the few who make the journey here, the local winegrowers often allow visitors the opportunity to sample their wines in their cellars. The best part? Due to limited production, Swiss wines are often not exported, which makes quaffing a fine drop here an even more exclusive affair.
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