Matador Network's Blog, page 2171

14 of Europe's scenic rail routes

1. TGV Paris to Nice, France

Photo: faungg’s photo

Photo: François Philipp

Photo: Stephen Bartels

Route: Paris to Nice

Highlights: Clay-tile-roofed villages, tidy vineyards, epic blue water

Beta: Departures daily, year-round. Eurail passes accepted.

This ride is all about that famous South-of-France color and light — from purple lavender fields to Côte d’Azur blue and the way in which the golden sunlight magically bathes it all. Starting in Paris, you’re in the sunflower and lavender fields of Provence just two hours later. Then, before you’ve even had the chance to comprehend Provence, you’re on the French Riviera, a dreamy coastline of dramatic beaches, picturesque villages, and brown beach bodies.

2. Arlberg Line, Austria

Photo: Alex Hanoko

Photo: Gitte Herden

Photo: Omad

Route: Innsbruck to Landeck to Bludenz

Highlights: 286ft-tall Trisanna Bridge, Castle Weisberg, 6.4-mile Albergtunnel, postcard Tyrol towns

Beta: Trains run daily year-round. No reservations required. Austrian Eurail passes accepted.

The transalpine Arlberg Railway is Austria’s only east-west mountain line and has been a marvel of engineering since its completion in 1884 — a year ahead of schedule, incidentally. The route traverses Austria’s western “finger” of mountainous land and features countless bridges, tunnels, and viaducts. With steep grades in high-alpine environments, it’s a problematic line for railway engineers and maintenance workers, but pure delight for riders.

3. Semmering Line, Austria

Photo: Michael Hanisch

Photo: Thomas Waldeck

Photo: Michael Hanisch

Route: Wiener Neustadt to Bruck an der Mur

Highlights: Over 100 curved stone bridges, the 4,700ft-long Vertex Tunnel, 16 viaducts (many of which are two story)

Beta: No reservations required. Austrian Eurail passes accepted.

One of the first great alpine railways — instrumental in proving high-elevation train travel on standard-gauge track was indeed possible — the Semmering Line opened in 1854 and was the highest line in the world at the time. Not just the highest, it was also built to be the most beautiful, with special attention paid to harmonizing the railroad with the natural surroundings it passes through. The Semmering, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is truly an exceptional train ride.

4. Black Forest Line, Germany

Photo: Jim D. Woodward

Photo: Carsten Franzl

Photo: Peter Rintel

Route: Offenburg to Konstanz and Freiburg to Seebrugg

Highlights: The Lakes of Titisee and Schluchsee, “Hell Valley,” traditional farms and half-timbered villages, the stretch from Hornberg to St. Georgen

Beta: Standard trains depart daily. Check schedule for special “nostalgia” trains running vintage locomotives. Eurail passes accepted.

The Black Forest is the stuff of fairy tales, quite literally — Germany’s ancient forest was the setting and inspiration for the twisted fantasies of the Brothers Grimm. Germany has done an admirable job protecting the forest and the pastoral lifestyle that defines this southwestern region. And exploring this revered woodland gets no better than on the Deutsche Bahn’s Black Forest Line.

5. Rhine Valley Line, Germany

Photo: David Wilson

Photo: faungg

Photo: faungg

Route: Koblenz to Mainz

Highlights: Rhine wine — Riesling is king but also try Müller-Thurgau and Gewürztraminer. Impossibly cute towns of Bacharach, St. Goar, Rüdesheim.

Beta: Multiple departures per day. No reservations necessary. Eurail passes accepted.

This riverside tour connects some of Germany’s quaintest Rhine villages, where vineyards sit on terraced hillsides below looming medieval castles. There may be more charm packed into this 100km stretch than anywhere else in Germany. Take your time and catch a “milk-run” train that stops at all the villages along the way. The coolest part? Hopping from train to boat or vice versa using the same ticket!

6. Eurocity, Germany / Austria / Italy

Photo: David Gubler

Photo: Patrick Gullo

Photo: abzgtphotography

Route: Munich to Verona to Bologna or Venice

Highlights: Breakfast in Munich and dinner in Venice

Beta: Multiple departures daily. Eurail pass holders pay €11 supplemental fee.

Huge windows help bring the Alps inside the train on this mountainous, three-country route. This line slices through some of the most beautiful mountains, rivers, and alpine villages in Austria, Germany, and Italy. It’s a never-ending bombardment of steep cliff faces, green pastures, and roaring rivers. Usually on routes over six hours I opt for the night train, but not here. The scenery is simply not to be missed.

7. Bernina Express, Switzerland

Photo: Germán Saavedra Rojas

Photo: Emanuele

Photo: Hans-Rudolf Stoll

Route: Chur or St. Moritz to Tirano

Highlights: Viaducts spanning huge drops, tunnels galore

Beta: Multiple departures daily. Eurail pass holders pay €10-14 supplemental fee.

The Bernina Express is the James Bond of scenic trains — smoothly pulling off impossible daredevil feats and looking damn good in the process. Extra-large panorama windows offer an incredible vantage point from which to take in the glaciers, lakes, peaks, and villages of Switzerland’s High Alps.

8. Centovalli Railway, Switzerland and Italy

Photo: Vasile Cotovanu

Photo: Selden Vestrit

Route: Domodossola to Locarno

Highlights: Stone cottages, waterfalls, hardwood forests, idyllic vineyards

Beta: Departures daily year-round. Eurail passes accepted.

Centovalli means “100 Valleys,” so you can probably guess what this Italy-to-Switzerland alpine route is famous for. It ain’t beaches. This is the way to travel from French-speaking Switzerland to the Germanic capital, Bern.

9. The Flam Railway, Norway

Photo: Konstantin Malanchev

Photo: Jenni Douglas

Photo: Karen Blumberg

Route: Myrdal to Flam

Highlights: The Nåli Tunnel, tremendous fjord views, Kjosfossen waterfall

Beta: Multiple departures daily. No reservation necessary. Eurail pass holders receive a 30% discount.

It’s hard to believe this steep, picturesque line was ever a working railway, but indeed it was, shuffling passengers and cargo into the Sognefjord beginning in 1940. Nowadays, it operates purely for the pleasure of gawking tourists, traveling slowly and making ample scenic stops. After the roughly one-hour journey, continue on to Oslo or Bergen by train.

10. The Rauma Railway, Norway

Photo: Alexander Lindeskär

Photo: Simo Räsänen

Photo: color line

Route: Dombås to Åndalsnes

Highlights: The emerald-green River Rauma, access to hiking trails like the Trolls’ Path, stunning fjord views, Kylling Bridge, Trollveggen

Beta: Multiple departures daily. Sightseeing train runs end of May through end of August — reservations strongly recommended. Normal trains run year-round. Eurail passes accepted.

Norway’s “other” tourist train draws fewer visitors than the Flam Railway, but packs just as big of a scenic punch. Starting at sea level, the majestic fjordlands quickly give way to lush alpine meadows, deep gorges, and vertical cliff faces. Be sure to pack a sack lunch and wear hiking shoes, because the train stops at several destination hiking trails.

11. Inlandsbanan, Sweden

Photo: Jonas Haller

Photo: alinnman

Photo: tobin

Route: Kristinehamn to Gällivare

Highlights: Oh, I don’t know, maybe the Arctic FRIGGIN’ Circle!

Beta: Departures daily beginning of June to end of August and December to April. Eurail passes are valid with a 30SEK reservation fee; reservations are required.

The 14-hour, 1,300km Inlandsbanan (“Inland Line”) traverses some of the wildest terrain in Scandinavia as it races past the Arctic Circle. Not many people (except for perhaps Santa Claus, though he has alternative forms of transportation) get to say they rode a train to the Arctic Circle. But you can. And spot bears, elk, and moose along the way.

12. Glacier Express, Switzerland

Photo: Kevin Poh

Photo: Alexander Granholm

Photo: Champer

Route: St. Moritz to Zermatt

Highlights: 291 bridges, 91 tunnels, Oberalp Pass

Beta: Departures daily. Eurail passes accepted from St. Moritz to Disentis. From Disentis to Zermatt, Eurail pass holders receive a 25% discount. Reservations required.

Only in Switzerland could there be a train called the Glacier Express — and truly deliver. Just imagine gorging on one-of-a-kind Swiss Alps views for 7.5 hours. You’ll be traveling through a landscape so sacred to Europeans that the railway (along with the Bernina) is a UNESCO World Heritage Site; it’s also home to the headwaters of the mighty Rhone and Rhine Rivers.

13. Golden Pass, Switzerland

Photo: Simon Pielow

Photo: Train Chartering & Private Rail Cars

Photo: Simon Pielow

Route: Lucerne to Montreux

Highlights: Brünig Pass, flower-covered chalets, the Gruben (Schönried) area

Beta: Departures daily. Reservations recommended. Eurail passes accepted.

The panoramic cars on the Golden Pass train allow for almost 360-degree views. The Golden Pass route gives you a little slice of everything Switzerland — high-alpine mountains, chalet-filled villages, vineyards, lakes, and some of the country’s most historically important cities. For a driver’s-eye view, consider splurging for VIP seats in the very front of the train.

14. Cinque Terre, Italy

Photo: Corniglia

Photo: Luca Volpi

Photo: Bruce Tuten

Route: Levanto to La Spezia

Highlights: The Ligurian Sea, pastel villages, terraced vineyards, seafood

Beta: Multiple departures daily. Eurail passes accepted.

This little section of railway serves the five Italian Riviera villages of the Cinque Terre in dramatic fashion. The trip is only about 40 minutes in one direction, so take the train one way, then spend the day hiking the amazing village-connecting trails back to where you started.

This post is proudly produced in partnership with our friends at Eurail.

14 images that show the stunning terrain and culture of Patagonia’s Northern Fjords

WHAT MOST PEOPLE don’t realize is that Patagonia encompasses more than Subantarctic wilds like the iconic Torres del Paine National Park. People live there. It’s a large — if slightly nebulous — region that straddles the southern ends of Chile and Argentina, and it’s definitely not a country (though it often feels like one).

On the Chilean side of the Andes Mountains that rip the region in two, there is a less-heralded northern section of Patagonia. It’s characterized by a Tolkien-esque landscape of fjords, rumbling volcanoes, puma-stalked forests, and a superstitious fishing community whose only roadway is the sea. Perhaps because of its relative inaccessibility, this part of Patagonia has so far flown under the radar of global attention.

This photo essay is what the northern fjords of Chilean Patagonia look like if you explore it the only way you can: by boat.




1

Notorious for foul weather and even fouler seas, Chilean Patagonia might not be a place you’d think to visit by yacht. But it holds certain advantages in a landscape dominated by ice-capped volcanoes, sheer granite cliffs, impenetrable 3,000-year-old rainforests, and an acute lack of roads.

2

This is a local fishing family in Reloncaví Sound who carry on centuries-old traditions. Like many other families in the region, their only roadway is the sea. Towering in the background is Mount Yate, a 2,187 meter high active volcano. Minerals that naturally erode from Mount Yate are what give the water its cloudy turquoise appearance.

3

Local marine scientist, Carlos Lonza, at the helm of his 11-metre ketch, Agartha. Carlos sold me on this sailing adventure by hinting at summer adventures under sun and sail, and the chance to visit the most spectacular coast in South America. The only thing he overstated was the sunshine.

4

Carlos dives for crustaceans in Chile's cold, nutrient-rich waters. The Pacific produces an abundance of seafood that characterises cuisine all over the country. Being no wider than 350 km at its broadest point and 4,300 km long, Chile is essentially one big coastline -- so it’s not surprising they take the fifth-largest annual seafood catch of any nation.

5

Machas, a native pink clam of Chile, freshly collected and ready for grilling ‘a la parmesana’ with chilli and coriander (cilantro).

6

A local’s tender 'parked' in a ‘driveway’. Fishermen in this part of Chilean Patagonia have no other access but the sea to their subsistence homes / farms cut into the steep forested edges of glacial mountains and volcanoes.

7

Sea lions in the mist make the eeriest human-like cries. They often rob catch from fishermen and are a protected species. But most locals would never shoot them anyway. They genuinely believe the legend of a ghost ship, el Caleuche, that roams these waters, manned by drowned sailors and captained by a sorcerer who transforms lost fishermen into sea lions. In a community constantly at the mercy of the sea, and where the ability to swim is a rarity, most have lost loved ones to the water.

8

Many times while sailing through Southern Chile I fantasized about buying a home like this one, shrouded in the mists, surrounded by nothing but forest, mountain, and sea. They’re quite affordable, but Carlos warns me that obtaining the paperwork can be a nightmare. The deeds granted to the original colonists who came here are often missing, as are the many descendants’ signatures required to transfer ownership.

9

A typical settler home on the fjords of Southern Chile. Despite the constant lashings of Patagonian rain and sleet, these wooden shingles rarely succumb to rot. The secret is that they're made from Alerce wood (Patagonian Cypress), an incredibly slow growing, water-resistant native tree species that is the second-oldest growing plant on Earth.

10

Agartha at anchor at Caleta Porcelana. “The beauty of this place is that when the weather turns foul, there is always a fjord or sheltered cove somewhere to lay anchor” says Carlos, whose local knowledge really comes into its own as we explore the twisting depths of Chile’s fjordlands.

11

“There are some happy advantages to living among volcanoes,” Carlos says as we hike into a series of secret pools in the temperate rainforest. The intense colour of the water is due to mineral deposits suspended in the superheated water as it bubbles from a geothermal spring.

12

The view south-east over Reloncaví Sound. In the distance are the granite hulks of Cochamó Valley. Its immense walls are legendary in rock climbing circles worldwide and have earned it the moniker 'The Yosemite of South America'.

13

The only way to get into Chile's Cochamó Valley is on foot or on horseback. It’s a tough uphill slog, but the view when you arrive is all the more inspiring for the knowledge that no road has ever penetrated the valley, no internal combustion has echoed between these cliffs, and commercial felling has never disturbed its primeval mountain forest ecology.

14

One of the Spanish-speaking world’s greatest poets, Pablo Neruda, once said "Anyone who hasn't been in the Chilean forest does not know this planet." In the Cochamó Valley, wild pumas still stalk pudús (the world’s smallest deer) as rare endemic marsupials scamper through the undergrowth of 3,000-year-old Alerce trees.

Signs you're born, raised in Manila

Photo: Jerald Guillermo

1. You use Facebook to keep up with Manila’s gangs.

There’s the budol-budol gang where they hypnotize or sweet-talk their victims into giving them their valuables.

There’s the dugo-dugo gang who target rich households and trick their maids into giving them money or jewelry under false pretenses that the maid’s boss got into an accident and needs cash immediately.

There’s the ipit taxi gang, where two-to-three men, usually in cahoots with the driver, suddenly board a taxi to rob its passenger.

Women take photos of their taxi’s plate number and driver, and then send it to their friends just in case they become a victim of “taxi sprays,” an unknown chemical substance sprayed by shady taxi drivers into the air-conditioner to immobilize female victims.

In other parts of the world, people use Facebook to look at cat gifs and trending gossip. You use it to stay up to date on how to arrive home with all your cash (unless you spent it at the mall, which is likely). You read up what gangs are where, new tricks and schemes, what parts of the city to avoid tonight. While others call Manila unsafe, you know it just takes a particular brand of street smarts, social media included.

2. Traffic is your go-to excuse for tardiness.

Manileños put up with the notoriously heavy traffic every day — except on holidays and when Manny Pacquiao has a boxing match, which ensures that the whole city will be off the roads.

Traffic is such a huge part of your life that you learn to work it into your schedule. When payday and a monsoon fall on a Friday, you leave the office an hour or two early, work overtime ‘til 9pm, or kill time at the nearest mall (see below) before heading home. You’re still physically and emotionally scarred from that time you held your pee on the EDSA freeway for four straight hours.

Then when you’re vacationing in a first-world country, you shake your head in disbelief when locals complain about their version of heavy traffic — which is nothing compared to Manila’s regular Carmageddon.

3. The mall is your second home.

SM is your second home. You frequent the mall for your dates, weekly grocery, afternoon strolls, family day, or to simply get free air-conditioning while waiting for the power to return after a blackout.

You cross the street like a game of Patintero.

It’s like grown up patintero from our childhoods – a mix of hopscotch and tag. If you didn’t grow up playing that, then you could say it’s like Frogger. Whatever way you describe it, it feels a bit like life and death every time.

4. You have a love-hate relationship with the MMDA.

When you encounter heavy traffic, corrupt policemen, and unresolved road mishaps, you blame the Metropolitan Manila Development Authority. At the same time, you’ve downloaded their app and follow them on Twitter for the latest traffic reports and flood guides. You’ve retweeted some of the MMDA’s humorous posts, but you don’t hesitate to let them know about your grievances.

Your commute is affected whenever they implement experimental rules that try (and fail) to curb traffic. Thanks to their number-coding scheme (better known as color-coding), your car is prohibited from the main roads one day a week. You’ve been pulled over by the cops at least once in your life, thanks to ever-changing road regulations. You look forward to their announcement of lifted rules during holidays and typhoons. At the same time, you know there would be only chaos if the MMDA didn’t exist.

5. You have emergency rain gear everywhere.

In your car, under your office desk, in your motorcycle compartment, and by the front door of your house, and not just during Typhoon Season. You know that heavy rain can happen any time, even in the peak of summer. You have a stash of umbrellas, raincoats, flood boots, and jackets within reach just in case you need to brace another thunderstorm tonight.

6. You know exactly where to go for the cheapest finds.

For designer knock-offs and cellphone repair, it’s Greenhills. For Christmas supplies and just about anything under the sun, it’s Divisoria. For Chinatown goods and market finds, it’s Quiapo. You even have a go-to pirated DVD supplier.

7. You’re tired of security guards “poking” your bag.

Thanks to bomb threats and mall crimes that happen periodically, it’s become standard procedure for security guards to check customers’ bags for explosives and weapons before they allow them to enter any establishment.

But a true Manileño knows that when the line at the mall becomes as congested as EDSA traffic, Mr. Security Guard will simply poke your bag to make it look like he’s doing his job. Worse, you feel discriminated when the lady holding an expensive-looking leather bag was allowed to breeze through, while you have to go through a five-minute inspection of your ratty backpack.

8. Nightlife happens every night.

Why wait for Friday or the weekend to party? There’s always a bustling bar and club from Timog to Malate. Parties in Manila peak at midnight and can go up to the wee hours of the morning. As for spots in Taguig that have a 3am curfew, you simply hop to another bar in the next town.

SO WHAT if it’s a Tuesday night? You can still drag yourself to work or school the next day.

9. You are resilient.

Despite political issues and regular calamities that strike the country, Manileños will always be a resilient, happy bunch. Your friends will upload Facebook photos of chest-deep floods along EDSA during the latest typhoon, but as soon as the rain and floods subside, Manila residents will clean up and be back to work in no time, and many will even find time to help out their less fortunate kababayans (countrymen) whose homes were ravaged.

Whenever there’s a travel advisory put on the Philippines or media reports state Manila is a dangerous place to live, you simply laugh it off because you know better. You tell tourists that all they need is to be street smart to deal with Manila life, and you’ll be more than happy to give them advice — after which you’ll dare them to try their first balut.

8 of the strangest places on Earth

Derweze, the Door to Hell. Photo: NMK Photography

EARTH IS A MIGHTY BIG PLACE, and if you’re willing to strap on some snowshoes or trek through barren deserts there’s a whole lot of strangeness left out there.

1. The Southern Pole of Inaccessibility

Location: Antarctica

Antarctica’s Pole of Inaccessibility — the point farthest from the sea in all directions — is probably the most remote spot on the planet. It’s also the coldest, with an average year-round temperature of -58.2C (-72F).

The exact location is always in dispute, but the best marker lies at 82°06’S 54°58’E, where a creepy plastic bust of Vladimir Lenin sits atop a cabin built by the Soviets in 1958. The cabin is completely buried in ice, but should you manage to dig it up there’s a golden visitor’s book left for intrepid souls to sign their name.

2. Derweze – the Door to Hell

Location: Turkmenistan

While drilling for gas near Derweze in 1971, a team of geologists in Turkmenistan accidentally collapsed an underground natural gas cavern. Rather than have the poisonous gas escape and kill the local semi-nomadic Teke people, the team lit it on fire.

It’s been burning ever since.

3. The Principality of Sealand

Location: English Channel

After WWII, several British gun platforms were abandoned in the English Channel.

In 1967, a pirate radio broadcaster took up residence in one of them and declared the fort an independent nation, and after a run-in with the Royal Navy a court ruled that Sealand was outside British jurisdiction.

It’s been operating more or less as its own country ever since, issuing passports, currency, and tourist visas. There was even an attempted coup that involved helicopters, a shotgun, and several hostages, resulting in a German diplomat being sent to the nation.

Freedom from legal restrictions has made Sealand an attractive base for online casinos and filesharers, so “custodianship” of the principality is currently on sale for the low, low price of 750 million euros.

4. Bouvet Island

Location: South Atlantic Ocean

Technically a part of Norway, the nearest landmass to Bouvet Island is an empty chunk of Antarctica over 1750km (1090 miles) away.

Inhabited only by lichens, penguins, and seals, Bouvet nonetheless has its own internet domain (.bv).

The most remote island in the world has only been visited a handful of times by various research expeditions and explorers attempting to claim it for their homeland, and in 1964 a mysterious boat loaded with supplies was discovered without any trace of its passengers.

Though, in reality, the most interesting thing on the island is probably a ruined weather station. The film Alien vs. Predator is supposed to take place mostly on Bouvet.

5. Bir Tawil

Location: The Egyptian-Sudanese border

Bir Tawil is a barren trapezoid of land between Egypt and Sudan that is so useless neither country will admit they own it. Both states claim its much more attractive sister territory, the Hala’ib Triangle, but due to treaty terms neither state can claim both.

It’s little more than sand, rocks, and a well in the middle, but it has the distinction of being the only unclaimed piece of Earth outside of Antarctica.

6. The Zilov Gap

Location: Central Siberia

The Trans-Siberian railway was completed in 1916, but its builders made sure to avoid the Zilov Gap. It’s a 640km (400 mile) stretch of wilderness so inaccessible that it wasn’t crossed until 2000.

If you’ve seen The Long Way Round, this was the impassable section that forced Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman to hop the train.

As of 2005 a road through the Gap was under construction, but given the condition of the average Russian highway, my guess is it will still make for an adventure.

7. Mount Thor

Location: Baffin Island, Nunavut, Canada

Although not a particularly tall mountain, Mount Thor is home to the greatest purely vertical drop in the world.

At 1250m (4101ft), the drop is over one and a half times higher than the tallest man-made structure ever built — currently the Burj Dubai.

An American team set the world record for longest rappel in 2006 on Mount Thor; another attempt by a Canadian park ranger ended tragically when his equipment failed and he dropped to his death.

8. Mir Mine

Location: Mirny, Siberia

The Mir diamond mine in Mirny, Eastern Siberia, is one of the biggest man-made holes in the world. At 525m (1720ft) deep and 1200m (3900ft) wide, it’s so huge it can suck in helicopters flying over it due to the downward air flow (the air space above is, therefore, off limits).

Its sister mine, Udachnaya pipe, is equally gigantic, and both can easily be seen on Google Maps.

This article was originally published on December 8th, 2009

Why traveling with kids is better

Photo: Siim Teller

A lot of people seem to think that you can’t travel with your kids. Believe me, they are missing out. It’s not as easy as tripping around by yourself, but ease isn’t the reason you got into parenthood anyways. Having the kids along can enhance the trip in many ways.

1. It’s safer.

I’ve had people look at me like I’m crazy for traveling with my kids, especially when they were babies. “Isn’t it dangerous?” is what I heard most. The crazy thing is that having your kids with you — the younger the better — can be a real safety feature.

My eldest son was born while we were traveling on a sailboat in Mexico. ‘Pirates’ were a concern, especially for lone boats hanging out at the lovely deserted islands in the Sea of Cortez. So I was dubiously heartened to hear a popular story going around at the time; Pirates boarded a family’s boat while the husband was away. When they saw a mother and baby alone inside, they turned around and left.

I know from experience that everyone from corrupt police officers to opportunist mechanics become downright friendly and helpful when my toddler smiles at them. Most people in this world really don’t want to take candy from a baby.

2. Kids make you less of a tourist.

People that would have, at best, seen you as a rip-off opportunity (and, at worst, a crime target) suddenly see you as a normal, perhaps more interesting person — “Can I hold the baby?” Kids are kids, regardless of race, religion, or economic status, and it’s hard to resist them.

In turn your kids will relate to their new surroundings similarly, without prejudice, if you let them. Watching your kids having a ball playing soccer with the local kids in Little Native Village, Mexico, might remind you of just how similar we all are at heart.

3. Kids are a natural icebreaker.

You’ll be chatting with them all the time, which broadcasts your native language and a little bit about you, making it simple for other travelers or locals to strike up a conversation. People are naturally curious and would often love to get to know you, but feel intimidated. That shy Ecuadorian just dying to try out her high school English will find it much easier to get the courage to say something to your 5-year old. Nothing is less intimidating than a family.

By the same token, the kids may encourage you to overcome your own reluctance, especially with language…at least your pronunciation of “Where is the bathroom?” is pretty well guaranteed to achieve native level.

4. Kids will take you places you wouldn’t have gone on your own.

Kids give you a reason to be just about anywhere (except nightclubs). You’ll find yourself playing in local parks, checking out the hotel facilities, and stopping at yet another ice cream shop. You’ll still do all of the usual stuff — maybe more, since you don’t want them to miss anything. But you’ll pay more attention to the museum explanations, get to do all the activities, and always have a plausible reason/excuse to do whatever you really want to do (ex: “But little Johnny has to tell his friends he climbed the Eiffel Tower!” or “You expect little Johnny to climb the Eiffel Tower?!”)

5. They’ll make you try any kind of food.

When kids aren’t busy playing control games with their parents, they love new and different kinds of food. Foreign bakeries are enticing, and the kids give you an excuse to try everything there is to offer. Food is such a huge part of any cultural experience and the number-one sensual pleasure of your pre-pubescent offspring — it’s going to be one of the most memorable aspects of any trip. The kids also make it so much easier to fully enjoy the local cuisine without gaining unwanted kilos — each one orders a different meal/dessert, and you get to ‘taste’ them all.

6. It’s a great challenge for everyone.

Traveling will challenge you, often in unexpected ways. We tend to want to shelter our children from hardship, even when we recognize that it is possibly the source of the best education. I would never in a million years have chosen to have the mast of our sailboat come down in a storm in the middle of the Gulf Stream. But it did, and it took all five of us to save the situation. No one enjoyed it at the time, but it became a favourite story and I think that we all realize how valuable that experience was.

Life isn’t all ‘smooth sailing,’ and who would want it to be? It’s so easy to let fear stop us from doing things — but the saying rings true: “It’s the things that you DIDN’T do that you will regret the most.”

Snowboarders kill nipple deep pow

Do you feel it? You know, the unmistakable feeling in the air that massive powder days are near? Winter’s arrived and the snow is falling in places like Colorado, Tahoe, the Tetons, and, of course, Stevens Pass, Washington where this sick episode of “Nipple Deep” was shot.

Like any good ski flick, there’s a moral hidden in this tale of powder-chasing:

When it comes to snowboarding, there’s only one thing better than travelling to a place with tons of fresh powder waiting — having the locals show you the goods when you get there.

See? We learned something today — locally sourced pow is the best pow.

While all the news has been about the epic snowfall in Buffalo, New York, out West mountains are finally putting on their white winter dresses. It’s time. It’s here. Let’s get deep, nipple deep.

The mass murder of African elephants

Take a look at the elephant in the photo below. His name is Igor (as named at birth by Cynthia Moss of Amboseli Elephant Research). For 49 years, he wandered the plains and woodlands of the Amboseli ecosystem in East Africa. A gentle soul like most elephants, he was so relaxed that in 2007, he allowed me to come within a few feet of him to take his portrait.

Elephant Drinking, Amboseli 2007. Killed by Poachers, 2009. All photos: Author

Two years later, in October 2009, it was perhaps this level of trust that allowed poachers to get close enough to kill him and hack the tusks from his face.

This book, Across the Ravaged Land, is the final book in the trilogy that I began in late 2000. Being something of a natural pessimist (always tempting to actually just say “realist”), I always felt that I was potentially making a final testament, an elegy, to the extraordinary natural world of East Africa, and the wild creatures that inhabited it. Back then, in my first book, On This Earth, I photographed what I saw as something of a paradise, an Eden. And it was, compared to what is happening today in 2013. But even 13 years ago, my pessimistic mind did not conceive that things would turn this bad, this quickly.

As I write, there is a continent-wide apocalypse of all animal life now occurring across Africa. When you fly over such a vast continent with so much wilderness, it’s hard to imagine that there’s not enough room for both animal and man. But between an insatiable demand for animal parts and natural resources from other countries, and a sky-rocketing human population, the animals are being relentlessly squeezed out and hunted down. There is no park or reserve big enough for the animals to live out their lives safely.

The statistics are finally, belatedly, starting to become known, and they need repeating:

Every year, an estimated 30-35,000 elephants are slaughtered across Africa. That’s 10% of the elephant population every year.

Fed by the massively increased demand from China and the Far East, ivory prices have soared from $200 a pound in 2004 to more than $2,000 a pound in 2013. China’s population is 1.3 billion and counting, and with 80% of its fast-growing middle class keen to buy ivory in some form, its price will only keep spiraling upwards. (It barely merits stating the obvious: Ivory is never more beautiful than when thrusting magnificently out of the face of an elephant).

As for rhino horn, it’s now more expensive than gold dust in the Far East, as the last rhino are gunned down to provide phony “medicine” for men with failed libidos.

There are an estimated 20,000 lions left in Africa today, a 75% drop in only 20 years. Most of this decline is due to conflict with the fast-growing human population. But increasingly, lions are killed for body parts like claws, bones, and teeth, again for the Asian market, now that tigers are too hard to procure. It has become so bad that there are next to no lions left outside the parks and reserves.

Viewing the steep downward slope on the graphs, it means this: At the current rate of slaughter, there will be no elephants, no lions, no cheetahs left in the vast expanse of the African continent within 15 years.

The only place you will be able to see them is in the sad, drab confines of zoos. Or in fenced areas that constitute barely more than a glorified zoo. Once again, man is on the path to systematically exterminating entire species of his fellow creatures in the natural world. Will humanity learn and change as a result? Based on history, the despairing answer is no.

It all sounds fairly bleak, and much of the future inevitably will be. But there is a “however…” There has to be a “however…”

But we have to be prepared and willing to engage in the most almighty fight for it….

* * *In July 2010, I returned for the first time in two years to the Amboseli ecosystem, a two million-acre area bordering Kenya and Tanzania in the shadow of Mount Kilimanjaro. Over the previous six years, I had spent many months photographing the elephants that inhabit this region. As a result, I had been fortunate to come to know some of these amazing creatures intimately.

Whilst there in 2010, I learned about the killing the year before not only of Igor, but others as well, like Marianna, the matriarch purposefully leading her herd in the photograph below.

Elephants Walking Through Grass, Amboseli 2008. Leading Matriarch Killed By Poachers, 2009

Day after day, we tried to approach what had once been some of the most relaxed of elephant herds, elephants that in the past had quietly made their daily journey to the swamps, moving past and around our vehicle without a care in the world. But this time, when we approached to within half a mile, they would run in terrified panic. Meanwhile, gunshots were being reported from the direction that the elephants came, near the Tanzanian border.

We tried reporting what we’d seen, but nothing was done, nothing happened. The Kenya Wildlife Service was (and still is) underfunded, and the few NGOs in the area had insufficient funds and infrastructure to make much of a difference. On the Tanzanian side, there was no one at all engaged in protection or conservation. And this was here in the Amboseli ecosystem, one of the most important and famous in Africa, with the most spectacular remaining population of elephants to be seen in East Africa.

Over the coming weeks, there was a lot of bad news. Just six weeks after I took the photo below of Winston, this 30-year-old elephant, barely into his prime, with half his life ahead of him, was shot by poachers over the border in Tanzania. Wounded, he made it back over to Kenya, where he died. He also had his tusks sawn out of his face with a power saw by the poachers. (And you won’t want to read this, but many are the elephants who are still alive when the chainsaw, or ax, starts hacking the ivory out of their faces).

Elephant with Half-Ear, Amboseli, July 2010. Killed by Poachers, August 2010

Over the next couple of months, the roll call of big bull elephants killed by poachers came thick and fast: Goliath, Sheik Zahad, Keyhole, Magna, and more. It wasn’t just a case of if a big-tusked elephant was going to get killed, but when.

At first I thought the poachers would just target the elephants with big tusks. But elephants with tusks barely more than broken stumps were being killed by poachers. Which meant that really, no elephant was safe anymore.

The killing was also escalating for all the wild animals of the area. The plains animals were getting slaughtered; giraffes here in the region were being killed at a faster rate for bush meat; there were even contracts out on zebras, as their skins became the latest fad in Asia.

As I saw the destruction unfolding with almost no real or meaningful protection, I thought that I couldn’t just stay frustrated, depressed, and powerless. It’s no good being angry and passive. It’s much better to be angry and active.

And so, to my own complete surprise, I co-founded Big Life Foundation in late 2010, made possible by an incredibly generous donation from one of the best collectors of my photographs. Partnering with the highly regarded conservationist Richard Bonham, we set our sights on the Amboseli ecosystem as our pilot project: a nearly two million-acre area stretching across the Kenya/Tanzania border.

A little over two years later, Big Life has 280 rangers, 24 ranger outposts, 15 patrol vehicles, 2 planes for aerial monitoring, 3 tracker dogs, and a vast informer network across the whole region. It’s the only organization in East Africa with coordinated cross-border anti-poaching operations.

With this infrastructure in place, as of April 2013, the Big Life teams have achieved a dramatic reduction in poaching of all animals in the region. None of this could have happened without one critical element: With animals constantly moving far beyond park boundaries into unprotected areas ever more populated by humans, the only future for conservation of animals in the wild is working closely with local communities. Effective conservation is dead in the water without community collaboration. This is at the heart of Big Life’s philosophy. The people support conservation, conservation supports them.

Elephants Alone on Lake Bed

In parts of the world such as this, very poor but rich in natural wonders, ecotourism is the only truly significant source of long-term economic benefit. Take away the animals, and there’s almost nothing of economic value left. The land can only support so much herding, and even less farming. And those meager resources will only become more unsustainable and precarious over time, as climate change kicks in and brutal droughts occur more frequently.

When you’re trying to protect close to two million acres, with the best will in the world, 280 rangers and 15 vehicles are only going to get you so far. That’s where the support of the community is essential.

Big Life’s expansive network of community informers is one of the main reasons why the rangers now apprehend poachers most times that they kill. Every one of those rangers lives locally, and with families whose well-being is tied to their success, and the wealth of the region increasingly understood by local people to be tied to the health of the ecosystem, so each ranger has his own small network of eyes and ears. Given the size of the area, I find it quite amazing, and very encouraging, just how often information does come through to the teams about poachers operating in the area. And on the poacher grapevine, it is now known that you run a big risk of being arrested if you attempt to kill in the Big Life-protected areas.

But the aim of Big Life has always been to do much more than just catch poachers. Its aim is to protect the entire ecosystem, both in the short and long term. Loss of wildlife habitat, the expansion of human settlement due to population pressure, and the resultant animals killed during raids on farmers’ crops or in retaliation for attacks on livestock — all add to the toll of lost wildlife. And all, in one way or another, we attempt to address.

Meanwhile, however, the destruction of wildlife continues, escalating and out of control, in the areas beyond where the Big Life teams operate. This is why this year, 2013, we began to extend operations into the Tarangire/Manyara area of Northern Tanzania, where large numbers of animals, from giraffes to zebras, were being gunned down for the bush meat markets of Arusha and beyond.

However, I don’t want this to turn into an extended pitch for what Big Life Foundation is doing. If you’re interested, you can discover more at Big Life’s website. But if you’ve made it this far, perhaps that means you might join the fray.

Unfortunately, we’ve reached a point where a series of terrible choices have to be made: what we can still try and save, and what we have no choice but to painfully, reluctantly sacrifice.

All across the African continent, there are entire populations of elephants and other animals now being wiped out. The list is long: animal populations in Chad, Central African Republic, Mozambique, Congo, large parts of Tanzania, and on and on. Tragically for many of the ecosystems in these places, any conservation group would face an overwhelming struggle to be effective — for lack of government support or community collaboration, for lack of money, for lack of firepower against the rebel militia groups that sweep in to murder en masse, financing weapons purchases with their bloody bounties of ivory. In fact, as I’m writing this, I’ve just read a news report about 86 elephants killed in the last week in Chad, including 33 pregnant females. And no one there to stop it for all these exact reasons.

So until sufficient national and international pressure is exerted to implement truly meaningful bans on the worldwide trade in animal parts, we will have to continue to choose which battles we stand a chance of winning, and those we know we cannot.

* * *

Big Life Rangers Holding Tusks of Elephants Killed at the Hands of Man, Amboseli 2011.

The photograph above shows 22 of the Big Life rangers holding tusks of elephants killed by men within the Amboseli/Tsavo Ecosystem in the years 2004-2009. The photo was taken to echo the earlier photograph, Elephants Walking Through Grass, reproduced further above.

Corporal Kitanki — at the front, and with one of the best track records of capturing poachers — is holding tusks that each weigh in excess of 120 pounds. These same tusks are supported on the shoulders of another Big Life ranger, Corporal Pepete, in the photograph on the cover of the book Across the Ravaged Land.

Those two gargantuan tusks, that bounty, would fetch close to half a million dollars in China today. However, as I look at those tusks in the photo today, I’m not thinking of that.

I’m looking at them thinking that actually, I find it hard to visualize the living elephant that possessed them. I’ve never seen elephants with tusks anything like that size, and now, I never will. They are all gone, dead, mostly killed by man. Even with one part of each tusk embedded in his skull, this elephant would still surely have had to lift his monumental head to prevent them from dragging like excavators through the earth.

* * *

Qumquat & Family, Amboseli, October 27 2012

On October 27 2012, I took the photo above, of Qumquat, one of Amboseli’s most famous matriarchs, and her family. Beyond are two of her daughters, Qantina and Quaye, bearing smaller tusks. You can see that I was just a few feet from the family, so trusting, so relaxed. Such easy pickings for poachers with a mind to murder for profit. Sure enough, this was to be their last afternoon alive.

Twenty-four hours after this photograph was taken, Qumquat, Qantina, and Quaye were gunned down by one of Amboseli’s most notorious poachers (whom the Big Life rangers subsequently apprehended). As for the three youngest, two are missing, the younger almost certainly dead now. Only the youngest calf is alive, his new home the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust Orphanage in Nairobi. This is the kind of collateral damage that the poachers cause: abandoned, traumatized calves that cannot survive once their mothers are gone.

Qumquat was a wonderful matriarch, who successfully led her herd for many years. But in one hellish afternoon, three generations of her family were exterminated.

Meanwhile, there are thousands of other Qumquats and sons and daughters still across much of Africa, many of whom will inevitably meet a similar fate. Whether this kind of senseless destruction motivates you to donate to Big Life, or another group working to protect the animals or environment here or elsewhere on the planet, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that, cliched as it sounds, if you care, get involved. Don’t be angry and passive. Be angry and active.

This book marks the end of a trilogy — On This Earth, A Shadow Falls, Across the Ravaged Land — that began in paradise, and ends in a much more somber place. I took portraits of the animals in these books in an attempt to capture them as sentient creatures not so different from us. I have sought to photograph them not in action, but simply in a state of being. Let us continue to let them be.

Qumquat with Daughters, Amboseli, 2012

This post was originally published at NickBrandt.com and is reprinted here with permission. It was originally posted on Matador on October 30, 2013.

8 things the Greenlandic hate

Photo: Nick Russill

1. Losing our jobs to the Danish

Since 1814, when Danish people colonized in Nuuk, they have been moving up here. The Danish actually make up approximately one quarter of the capital’s population. And that’s a big number. Let’s face it, Danish people have much more opportunity for professional experience back in Denmark. So when they come here, they qualify for better jobs than us. Sometimes we Greenlandic are even expected to speak Danish in our own country. But we’ve been living here longer than them — we deserve those jobs!

2. Not being able to buy alcohol whenever we want

Monday through Friday, you can’t buy alcohol after 6pm. On Saturday, you can only buy until 1pm. There is not one minute that you can buy alcohol on a Sunday. It’s ridiculous. We’re forced to buy alcohol on Friday afternoon, before we’ve even decided if we’re going to party or not.

And the prices! A case of 30 bottles in Denmark costs 100 DKK. In Greenland, 20 bottles cost about 200 DKK. They really make it difficult for us to drink. There are some communities that have problems with alcohol abuse, some have made it a law that you can’t buy any over 15% potency. So maybe the restrictions are a good thing in some places. But, no, we still hate it.

3. Delays and more delays that happen almost every day

We have very few transportation options when we want to visit other cities in Greenland. It’s usually either plane or ship. We have no roads between cities because and our cities are scattered everywhere with many miles in between. For instance, the capital Nuuk’s closest neighbor city, Maniitsoq, is 148-kilometers away.

Greenland is not a place of sunny and hot days. We have very unpredictable weather that can change a sunny day into a rain or snowstorm. And even if the city you’re in has sun, there’s a big chance that the one you want to get to has a storm. So always buy a green ticket.

4. The complete lack of products in our stores

Greenland’s environment can’t support fruit-and-vegetable trees, so all of our produce comes from Denmark. And it’s not uncommon for a store to just run out of something and be unable to get it back for awhile. You know that feeling when you think all day about a dish you want to make for dinner? You crave it so much that it doesn’t matter how expensive it will be to make. And the store just runs out of the crucial ingredient. In some Greenlandic cities, it can take up to three months for something to come back into stock. And the fewer the products are, the more expensive they get.

5. When it rains in winter

The rain falls differently here in Greenland than any other country. In Denmark or the States, big drops of rain fall vertically to the ground. It’s not that easy here. In Greenland, the raindrops are small and fall from right to left, making the air humid and melting all the snow. And what do you get the day after? Icy roads and people doing ninja moves everywhere.

6. When large insects just show up all of a sudden

Just….ew. Greenland is located in the arctic where trees can’t even grow because of our hard and frozen ground. It’s definitely not a place for insects to thrive. We don’t see many except for mosquitoes, flies and the occasional spider — no bigger than your fingernail. But sometimes in summer, something like a cockroach will appear and gross us out. They probably come over on ships or planes from other countries. Oh man, you will never see an uglier face than the one a Greenlandic makes when she sees a huge insect. She may scream.

7. Anything that’s run by the government

Where do I even begin with this? The doctor’s office is a real bitch to get a hold of, and when you finally do get them, there’s only a slight chance that they’ll give you their support and concern. The dental office opens early in the morning. If you want to get checked, you have to get in a line that started an hour before the doors even open. The student salary is way too low and the dorms have mold and other disgusting things growing in them. We know that we should be thankful because all of this stuff is free — doctor visits, dental visits, education — but we love to complain about it.

8. How short our summers are

Even though we love snow — the skiing, the making snowmen, the getting cozy with hot chocolate — we really enjoy our three-month summer. But three months? Sometimes it’s even less. We always remember the first summer day, when we can finally wear short trousers and just a t-shirt outside. We go hiking, boating, and fishing. Many of us travel to another city or even another country for summer break. But when we get back, it’s all rain and cold breezes. And it’s only August.

Things Pacific NW peeps hear a lot

Photo: Kevin O’Mara

1. “For living so close to the mountains, you guys sure can’t handle the snow.”

No shit, Sherlock — we’re too busy hiding from the perpetually enraged rainclouds and their relentless onslaught of rain. You expect us to be ready for frozen snow amid all that?

We get this line most often from the overly-opinionated East Coast transplant who’s dumbfounded we can’t handle a half foot of snow because he grew up forging ice tunnels out of his home. Sorry man, we’re out here trying to deal with minefields of puddles most of the time.

2. “I bet you carry an umbrella with you everywhere you go.”

Actually, no. If you’ve lived in the PNW long enough you’ve come to terms with the cold, hard truth: an overpriced rain jacket that doesn’t soak through every time it’s out in the rain is better than poking every passerby pedestrian’s eyes out when trying to use an umbrella. Every time I use an umbrella I feel as I’ve been given a weapon that acts on its own accord. Where’s the umbrella instruction manual?

3. How’s the population of Forks, Washington handling the moody teenage vampire crisis?

Yes, Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series is staged around Forks, Washington. But Forks is a bland, old-fashioned, underdeveloped backwoods where the weather’s just as shitty as most anywhere else in Washington — except when you’re in Forks, you’re in the middle of nowhere, and the best thing about the town is a rundown pie diner you can visit if you want to feel like you’ve walked onto the set of True Detective.

So, really, there’s two reasons not to go to Forks: It’s a sleepy timber-logging town with irritable lumberjacks keen on taking hatchets to Edward Cullen cutouts (because, who wouldn’t be?), and it’s so painfully boring that Meyer recognized her readers wouldn’t make it past the first chapter of her book if there weren’t teenage werewolves with overdeveloped six packs and teen vamps with overapplied hair gel waging war over a girl who’s moping around because she’s stuck in Forks.

4. “You guys have great coffee!”

Tread carefully. We’ll likely judge which establishment you bring up. There are only two types of people in our books: you’re either a corporation-fueling dimbo to whom coffee’s no more than a daily necessity; or you’re an enlightened java bean connoisseur that appreciates presentation, atmosphere, and well-fostered relationships between barista and consumer found within fair trade, independent coffee shops.

5. “How about those Seahawks?”

There’s no such thing as an awkward silence when you can steer conversation back towards your world championship team.

6. “You’re so lucky you can see shows at The Gorge.”

Yeah, and you’re so lucky you can see concerts outside more than a few months out of the year. It’s as if the weather gods up above huddled together and decided they’d throw us a secluded spot with majestic, sun-soaked scenery to compensate for the lack of reasonable weather we normally live with.

7. “Why go through the trouble of spending a day at the beach when the water’s colder than a therapeutic ice bath?”

Just ‘cause our water isn’t toasty and aquamarine doesn’t mean we’re not going to pretend to enjoy it every once in a while. We’ll plan weekend getaways to Cannon Beach and take pictures with friends surrounded by sand dunes just as an excuse to avoid another hike up some shrub-infested trail.

Why travel Muslim countries?

Photo: jbdodane

No part of the world within the last ten years has been scrutinized as much or stereotyped as heavily as the Muslim world. Although a minority of these countries have warranted the criticism, the media has unjustly painted the remaining majority as being similarly run, hateful of the west, and as places to be avoided.

Not only are these countries worth visiting, but what they offer is so unique that to be left off the list of any traveler would be a shame. When a friend asked me where would I recommend visiting the most, I answered Jordan — a 90% majority Muslim country.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” she asked.

My reply: “I feel safer in Amman than I often do in London.”

Ignore the media hype.

In the past 13 years, ‘Muslim’ and ‘terrorist’ have become synonymous in many countries in the western world. News organizations and Hollywood films do very little to distinguish between the minority and the majority, and sometimes even openly merge the two.

This mindset is extremely damaging to the world’s Muslim communities, degrading the vast majority due to the actions of a few, and perpetuating the myth that all Muslim countries are radicalized, are a danger to travelers, and are full of close-minded and stubborn people who hate Westerners.

In truth, there is as much variation in opinions in these countries as there is in our own, and plenty of Muslims are refreshingly open-minded. I even felt comfortable asking a guide in Jordan if I could scatter some of my dad’s ashes, knowing well that it was not accepted in Islam. Not only did he accept the idea, but he drove me to the spot he described as the “most beautiful and appropriate in the whole of the Wadi Rum desert.”

The “most beautiful and appropriate” spot in the Wadi Rum desert. This and all subsequent photos courtesy of the author.

The hospitality of Muslim cultures is truly life changing.

One of my favorite memories is of sitting on a mountaintop with a Bedouin, gazing upon a surreal sunset and hearing him say, with absolute sincerity, that you could offer him the best car and the biggest house in the world, but he would not change his life for any of that.

“It is enough,” he said, “to meet people who come visit my country, converse with them, learn from them, but then to come up here every evening and gaze upon this sight.” Propped up next to him, appropriately surveying the same sun setting down behind a canyon of mountains was a slab of wood with ‘WELCOME’ written in black paint across it.

The welcome sign was not an anomaly: Islamic and Arabic society puts a tremendous emphasis on the tradition of hospitality. This will become clear once you have been offered your tenth different invitation for dinner or tea in two days. For travelers interested in discovering different cultures first-hand, such an experience is essential.

We can learn from Islamic culture.

On my first trip to Jordan, one of my taxi drivers stopped the car within seconds of my confession of having never tried falafel, popped into the ‘best falafel shop in the area’ and brought me one for free. He then watched as I ate it, excited to be sharing my cultural initiation into the Jordanian world. This attitude is not uncommon in Jordan.

Do we have this in our own society, where foreigners from all different walks of life are welcomed with such generosity and compassion? I myself find it difficult to imagine the reverse happening back home. I certainly have never received the same level of warmth as I felt while accepting Muslim family invitations while in a strange place in the western world. And despite being a white European and quite obviously not a local, I have felt no judgement in the Muslim world — only curiosity and respect.

In a world which is still so hostile towards people from different creeds, races and nationalities, maybe we could learn a great deal from a culture which strongly emphasizes the need to welcome strangers into their homes, acknowledge but not judge them by their differences, and offer them food, friendliness, and the opportunity to learn about one another.

No traveller should miss out on what the Muslim world has to offer.

Even setting the people and culture aside, we often forget that the Muslim world is full of dramatic and surreal landscapes, most of which are still relatively new to the western photographer’s checklist. The Musandam Fjords in Oman, Wadi Rum in Jordan, and Mount Damavand in Iran are three world-class destinations for photographers, filmmakers, and travellers searching for remarkable nature. Don’t let the misconceptions deter you — these are places every traveler simply cannot afford to miss.

The tea will always be offered: it will never run out and you will find it impossible to decline. It is sweet and warm, just like the company.