Perpignan - Carcassonne, Day 1

Crossing the river Agli at Cases-de-Pène.

OK, another short walking trip then.  These generally end up being wherever I can find some suitable flights, so this time it's southern France, practically in the Pyrénées, should be good exercise then.  I spend a night at the Stansted Premier Inn - failing to eat the monstrous burger I get there - before an early flight getting to Perpignan for 10am.  Let the walk begin!

The Tour del Far.

The plan for today is twenty miles, doesn't sound too hard, but it sure is hot here, worse than Thailand last week I'd say.  And after a few miles it becomes clear that my route involves climbing a very large hill.  It may not be much compared to the snowy peaks visible to the South, but by English standards this is a tough ascent.  Seems to have some kind of structure on top as well, which turns out to be the Tour del Far, which I'd guess is a folly (nope, turns out it is a medieval signalling tower, the name meaning tower of fire).

Not long after I pass the ruins of real fortifications, this part of the world has been fought over since before Roman times.  I still have a way to go, and while it is mainly downhill, nonetheless it is around 7.30pm when I reach the day's destination, Cucugnan.  Charming place, built on a hill, itself within a steep sided valley, the village climbs up in a series of lanes and steps to the hilltop where there is a windmill.  For me, I enjoy a fine dinner with a pichet of wine, then get an early night - for some reason I'm a bit tired.

Cucugnan.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Thailand, Part 4

Surviving railway sleepers.

Last full day out in the Thai countryside, and I have a bit of walking to do, hopefully this time I won't get stopped at a checkpoint.  From the hotel, a few miles of footpath and minor road through the jungle should take me back to the railway, but obviously beyond the last station at Nam Tok.  Rather, there is a section of line a few miles long where the Office of Australian War Graves has cut back the jungle so that you can walk along, the route passes through various cuttings including the infamous Hellfire Pass - so named because as the POWs worked into the night digging into the landscape, the scene, lit by bamboo and diesel torches, resembled something from Dante's Inferno.

Hellfire Pass.

I've planned the route out in advance on my GPS device, so I know when I need to turn left onto the line - except when I get there it is blocked with barbed wire.  Still, I can see it is right and has been walked on so whatever.  I follow the route for a couple of miles passing a few signs providing information about the building of the line and so forth, then as planned turn around and head back.  Emerging from the barbed wire again I notice a sign saying 'reserved for the Royal Thai Army' - oops.  Got away with it anyway.  Carrying on things are better maintained, the route passes through a series of cuttings, embankments, and sections where I need to scramble down and up, back in the day wooden viaducts would have spanned these but are long since gone.

It is hot but bearable here in April, though of course I am just walking.  It is hard to imagine what it was like for the men seventy years before, hauling rocks and digging holes for explosives in the heat of a Thai summer.  The death toll from this railway, around one hundred thousand from disease, starvation, accident or the brutal treatment from the guards, is staggering.  Well, they are not forgotten - in fact, I have come at the right time for this, it is nearly ANZAC day and there is a large party of Australians at my hotel, including, I'm pretty sure, at least one veteran of the railway.  There's also a Japanese TV crew there to interview him.

Peace Vessel at the Hellfire Pass Museum.

Must confess that I don't bother taking the train back to Bangkok as planned - by the sounds of it the journey would take around eight hours.  Instead I find an air-conditioned bus for just 140 Baht, it gets me there in just a few hours, in time for a relaxing evening.  Well, this was all fun I must say - almost proper backpacking, four star hotels notwithstanding.  One of these days I will come back and do the real thing... looking at the map, it is entirely possible to get buses or trains to Myanmar, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam.  Might take a little bit longer than a few days mind.

Back in Bangkok - at the North Bus Terminal.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Thailand, Part 3

At the bridge.

Next day, and I will get to this bridge.  In fact it is only a mile or so from the hotel, and proves to be impressive enough as seventy year old railway bridges go.  There's certainly a sense of history here as I walk across the span, the outer parts of which are the original whereas the centre was replaced after being damaged by American bombing.  Time to take a look at the station here then, my plan is to get a train at 1.30pm which will take me to Nam Tok, the furthest the line gets from Bangkok.  Unfortunately it seems I've screwed up, the next train doesn't go at 1.30pm at all, but rather 4.30pm.  Oops.  I get a coffee, have a wander around the 'JEATH War Museum' - no, not a misprint, it stands for Japan, England, Australia, Thailand, Holland apparently.  Interesting collection of WWII artifacts, plus rather gruesomely numerous bones of those who died building the railway.  Generally there isn't much to do though so I head back into town and grab a few beers while waiting for the train.

Sun setting, still on the train.

It is, of course, an hour late, and then takes its time to rattle along the track towards Nam Tok.  We are getting into the hills now and the route starts to take in steep inclines and sharp bends, the decrepit seeming diesel engine struggling much as I imagine the steam trains did back in the day.  At least nobody is dropping bombs on us.  By the time we arrive though we are even further behind schedule, and I am here nearly five hours later than I'd expected.  Not really ideal when my hotel is something like ten miles away... I had planned to walk it, and as I don't see any taxis and while numerous people are about - hell, there is some sort of party happening - English doesn't seem to be spoken, I hoist up my pack and set off.

I should be able to get there before midnight or so, and at least it isn't too hot at this time.  But, before long it turns out the route I planned is less of a country lane and more of a dual carriageway, not much traffic but what cars there are tend to flash lights at me, I suspect I'm not doing a very normal thing here.  Lightning from distant storms flashes around me, at one point I pass through fires on either side of the road, it is certainly atmospheric.  But in the end I only get a few miles before reaching an immigration post.  They are mainly looking for people coming the other way, from the direction of Myanmar, but they're still not keen on me walking along the road and so call up the hotel and ask them to send a taxi - I'm not really complaining.  My hotel turns out to be more of a resort and is certainly nice, my room is more of detached bungalow overlooking the river.  Bit of a shame both the bar and restaurant are shut at this time though, so not much for it but an early night.

Home Phutoey Resort - nice, pity about the bar opening times.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Thailand, Part 2

Phutthamonthon.

Day two, and I take to Bangkok's comprehensive, and air-conditioned, bus system, aiming for Phutthamonthon, a sprawling landscaped garden / Buddhist sanctuary a little way out of the city.  Once out of the centre the bus moves swiftly enough, a pity it drops me a mile or so from my destination though... still, while I must now navigate a mile or so along a couple of motorways, there are pavements and footbridges.  It is worth it anyway, Phutthamonthon is rather nice, I must say if a country is going to spend money on religion this is the way to go.  You don't have to be a believer to enjoy the maze of water features, and the giant standing Buddha at the centre is most impressive, as are is the Marble Pali Canon Temple, where there are what seems like hundreds of man high marble tablets, each gold inlaid with Buddhist scripture.

Back in town, I enjoy some incredibly spicy soup, and a few beers, and find some live music at Bangkok institution Checkinn99 - has been there since the Vietnam War days, which counts as historic around here.  But anyway... I'm not here to hang around in the capital, so next morning I make my way to one of the rail terminals.  This is a tricky process involving the 'skytrain' (excellent, air-conditioned), a river ferry, and a mile walk.  The station resembles something from a village rather than a major city, while Thailand has a larger rail network than many of the surrounding countries, it still isn't much.

Thonburi Station.

The train is hot, even with every window fully open, but it is a good way to see the country, which to begin with is pretty flat.  I watch exotic birds startle at our passing and take to the air, they seem to keep pace with the train, which says something about our pace.  Even at this speed though the carriage wobbles alarmingly as we rattle over the tracks, and I wonder how well maintained this line is.  Eventually, hills appear to either side and start to close in, these are the foothills of the high country that marks the border with Myanmar.  For this is the famous Death Railway, built by prisoners of the Japanese during World War Two, and I am headed for the bridge on the River Kwai.

I don't quite make it... the train reaches Kanchanaburi where my hotel is, just a few miles from the bridge, half an hour late.  It then stops... nothing happens, and after half an hour I give up and head for my hotel.  It's a hot evening, and while my hotel has aircon, the rest of town seems not to have heard of it.  I have a good meal, drink a few beers, and play some pool with a lady who, of course, wants to go back to my hotel.  It's a bit too classy for that sort of thing though...

Riding the train west.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Thailand, Part 1

OK, actual proper travels, of the kind that people do when they say they are going travelling.  Foreign parts and all, there will even be getting about by means that aren't walking... first though, a cycle, for a change.

Bang Krachao.

So, I'm in Bangkok, gateway to Thailand.  It is hot, smelly, and traffic is horrible, not the ideal place to cycle.  However, if you head to a little known pier and take a ten baht (twenty pence) ferry over the river, you reach Bang Krachao, a near island cut off from the bustle of the city, and pretty much undeveloped.  Here there is mangrove swamp, and a network of raised concrete walkways just about broad enough for a bicycle, or indeed moped which the locals use to reach the homes dotted about.  It's a charming place and I couldn't come to Bangkok without visiting it, so a hundred baht to hire a bike and I'm off.  Still hot though, so I head for a village to the south of the peninsular to look for water - and get rather more than I bargained for.

I survived Songkran!

Thai New Year, or Songkran, has just passed, and in the city proper the celebrations are over, but here it seems they're going strong - and that means a massive water fight.  Those with bikes or pickup trucks cruise along with water pistols, while at the roadsides there are gangs with hoses, buckets, and also bowls of talc to smear on peoples' faces - my bet is the idea is to make you look like a ghost.  So I buy a water pistol and join in of course, and get very wet indeed.  I suspect I get special treatment as a foreigner as I end up caked in talc, which clearly amuses the locals as I walk back to my hotel.  Time for a bath, and then a cold beer or three...

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Skiing in the Vosges, Part 2

Day two in the Vosges, and we had planned to get up at 7am and head to the nearby ski area of La Bresse - Hohneck, where there is floodlit morning skiing.  But yesterday was very long, and instead it is nearly 10am when we get to the first car park, and it is full.  Things don't look good as we drive into a second car park and there is no room for a van, we have to fight through traffic to get out again and are directed down the hill... eventually we find a space, but with so many cars here I'm envisaging massive queues for lift passes and the lifts themselves.  In fact though we get up the mountain without difficulty, to find ourselves in a proper ski area with something like seven chairs, some of them proper express lifts.  Once more the skiing is very good, Dan has found his snowboard mojo and a fine time is had... it is strange that there are no Brits here, instead the pistes are packed with French weekenders, many clearly with little idea what they are doing.

La Bresse - Hohneck.

Back into Gérardmer for the evening, we have a little wander around the town, past the lake, checking out restaurants as we go - they all seem pretty full.  We manage to reserve a table for the second service at Le Bistrot de la Perle, and after a beer at the bar next door we sit down to a really excellent meal.  I get the feeling you could stay here for a week, enjoying fine food at a different restaurant every night.  For tonight, the three course set menu is enough for me... feeling a bit more awake than last night too, so we check out the local disco.  Sadly it's a bit of a disappointment, while we hang around until midnight there are only a few people in and the 80s room is roped off.  We later hear some revellers returning to the campervan park in the early hours, so maybe we just got the timing wrong.

Toboggan!

Sunday morning, and we have time to get back to Gérardmer for a morning on the slopes.  Seems a bit small after La Bresse, but still good and surprisingly quiet.  We get lunch up on the mountain, what else in Alsace-Lorraine but Quiche Lorraine all round.  And then it is time to head back to England - two hours or so each at the wheel and we're back at the chunnel, then after some more driving and a train, I am back home by 10.30pm UK time.  Well, that all worked remarkably well... a fine two and a half days of skiing, good company and excellent food, and no messing around with airports or sitting on a coach all night.  In fact, transport and accommodation came to around £120 per person, bargain!

The Lac de Gérardmer

Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Skiing in the Vosges, Part 1

Has been a while since I posted here... well, I've been back to Tenerife, and done a fair bit of skiing, but nothing very original.  This weekend though we have a ski trip with a difference, most noticeably in terms of how much it is costing - which is, really not very much.

A weekend ski trip in a campervan you say?

Finishing work on Thursday, I get on the tube and attempt to head to St. Pancras station, sadly the tube has other ideas and I miss my intended train by a minute or two.  But there is another one thirteen minutes later, and this is a rare thing in the UK, a fast train!  After a little over half an hour I'm at Ashford station, and shortly after that my brother Dan and his wife Donna arrive in their camper van, and we all head for the channel tunnel, making our check in with some ten minutes to spare.  The plan then, is to drive all the way to a ski resort, in a vehicle with an effective top speed of 70mph - madness, surely.

Certainly got nice weather at least.

Well, maybe not entirely.  We are whisked through the tunnel, then after a little messing around looking for petrol we're on the autoroute for 9pm local time, and with three to share the driving it's easy enough to keep going 'til 1.30am, by which time we're at an 'aire de campingcar' in the vicinity of Nancy.  France is very well set up for campervans, the whole country is dotted with these little rest stops, complete with facilities for taking on water and disposing of waste - hard to imagine such a system getting off the ground in the UK.  We don't spend much time there though, 6am the next morning and Dan is out of bed and we're off again.  But it isn't too far now, as our destination is the resort of Gérardmer in the Vosges mountains, in the Alsace-Lorraine region.  Not a familiar name to English skiers, and to be honest our expectations aren't too high, I am anticipating slushy snow and long queues.

The Vosges Mountains - not terribly mountainous.

In fact, Gérardmer is a very pleasant surprise.  There is plenty of snow and the skiing is really quite good, and as long as you're willing to use the drag lifts rather than the two slow moving chairs, there is no need to spend much time queueing.  All abilities are catered for with runs ranging from greens through some pretty steep blues and reds, and even a decent black.  Scenery is rather different to the Alps, no rocky pinnacles here, but the gentler, wooded slopes of the Vosges are very pleasant in their own way.  Lovely weather too, and we enjoy a fine day on the slopes before taking the van down to Gérardmer the town, a charming little place by the side of a lake, where we enjoy a beer and a fine meal, before retiring exhausted to the van.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.