ferry

Greenland: among the giants

August 09, 2024

Greenland always loomed large on the maps I spent hours poring over during my childhood. This is partly due to its actual size (it’s the largest island in the world) and partly due to land mass closer to the poles appearing more vertically stretched on common map projections. One of the first fun facts I learned about Greenland is that the Vikings named it so to entice more settlers. In reality, the vast majority of Greenland (80%) is covered by an ice cap, and its 55,000 inhabitants live predominantly along its western coast. While Greenland is geographically part of North America, it is politically part of Denmark (and autonomous in a number of ways).

Getting to Greenland requires some time and dedication, as the best way to reach it is via a nearly 5 hour flight from Copenhagen to Kangerlussuaq, a small town of about 500 inhabitants and the only airport in Greenland able to handle larger aircraft (originally built as a military base during World War II). Kangerlussuaq is a good jumping off point for visiting the polar ice cap (as a day trip, or more commonly an overnight camping trip), or for internal flights within Greenland. Note that the weather is notoriously fickle; delays and cancellations are not uncommon, so plan accordingly. Upon landing, I took a short flight to Ilulissat, a town further north on the western coast. There are no roads between towns in Greenland—just airplanes, boats, dog sleds, and snowmobiles. I booked all my flights directly (including the roundtrip from Copenhagen) via Air Greenland.

Colorful buildings, Ilulissat, Greenland — Colourful buildings in the town of Ilulissat

Street in Ilulissat, Greenland — Walking around Ilulissat

While Ilulissat is the third largest town in Greenland, its population is 4,600, so you’ll need to plan ahead for your accommodation and transport. You can visit any time of year, but the summer months, during which the sun never fully sets, tend to be most popular (conversely, during winter there is little daylight). The town itself is a colorful sprawl of houses and buildings made to withstand the harsh winters, with the color of the building indicating its use (yellow for doctors and hospitals, red for teachers and churches, blue for fishermen and fish factories, etc.). After settling into my centrally located Airbnb, I went for a walk through town, finding my way to one of the western viewpoints over the bay. I enjoyed lunch at Cafe Iluliaq, which offers a range of different meals, with both locals and tourists seated outside to enjoy the summer sunshine. For dinner, Inuit Cafe offers perhaps some of the best food in Ilulissat, including a range of local specialties. You’ll also find a couple of supermarkets with a decent array of products, though keep in mind that Greenland imports almost everything except for fish, so prices are high and selection is limited. Note that everything closes quite early, even in summer (unless you happen to be invited to one of the local all-night parties).

Iceberg in Disko Bay, Greenland — Icebergs in Disko Bay

Midnight sun over icebergs, Disko Bay, Greenland — Midnight colours in Disko Bay

That evening, I embarked on a previously booked icefjord boat tour, which turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip. The tours typically depart around 10pm to take advantage of the summer midnight sun. We glided among sunset-tinted icebergs, spotting numerous humpback whales putting on quite the display, flukes playfully raised and blowholes spouting above the sea. The sunset went on for hours after our return, soon turning into a bright dawn.

The next day, I embarked on a kayaking excursion with Ilulissat Adventures around Disko Bay. They provide all the gear, including a drysuit—bring some warm wool layers to wear underneath. In general, layers are key to Greenland, as the average summer temperature in Greenland is about 10C (50F) and can fluctuate significantly. While some days were so warm I could wear a t-shirt, others necessitated protective layers against pelting rain and winds so strong I could barely breathe.

Kayaking in Disko Bay, Greenland — Kayaking in Disko Bay

It felt truly spectacular to be on the water in close proximity to giant icebergs, and a good reminder of how small we are in the larger view. In a similar vein, the spectacular Ilulissat Isfjordscenter (a short walk from the town center), newly constructed and opened in 2021, is also worth a visit. Its unique architecture and informative exhibits are sure to occupy the better part of a couple of hours, and it’s also the start of a couple of short trails to reach the ice cap, a UNESCO World heritage site. Perhaps my favourite part of the whole trip, the Ilulissat Icefjord is at once breathtakingly beautiful, awe-inspiring, and humbling; it will leave you questioning humanity’s role and place on this planet.

Ice cap, Ilulissat, Greenland — Walking from Ilulissat Isfjordscenter to the icefjord

The views and sounds are stunning: this giant, slow-moving glacier, witness to thousands of centuries past, passes slowly before you, iceberg-sized chunks breaking off and echoing, cracking and heaving, into the abyss. It’s at once both larger than life and disappearing before our very eyes: in recent years, the ice sheet has been melting at record levels. Second in size only to Antarctica, Greenland’s ice sheet contains 12% of the world’s glacier ice. Its melting is predicted to result in significant sea level rises worldwide that will change life as we know it over the next few generations.

View of icebergs in Disko Bay, Ilulissat, Greenland — View of Disko Bay on a short hike from Ilulissat

A good place to continue philosophizing is always over great local food and wine. Koks is an excellent restaurant typically based in another Danish territory, the Faroe Islands. I had the privilege of dining there during my trip to the Faroe Islands a few years back. While Koks constructs a new home for their restaurant in the Faroes, they have established a summer residency in Ilimanaq, Greenland, accessible from Ilulissat via a 90 minute boat ride through even more icebergs. Reservations are recommended well in advance, and you’ll book the boat transfer separately through World of Greenland. Koks in Greenland does not disappoint, focusing on showcasing the best of what the area has to offer in ways that are both delicious and surprising. Afterwards, enjoy a magical sunset-hued ride back to Ilulissat at the end of the evening.

Dinner at Koks Restaurant, Ilimanaq, Greenland — A dish with wine pairing at Koks in Ilimanaq

Ilimanaq, Greenland — The town of Ilimanaq, a 90 minute boat ride from Ilulissat

After a few nights in Ilulissat, I caught the local Arctic Umiaq ferry that takes both locals and tourists up and down Greenland’s western coast. I booked a cabin for the 36 hour journey down to Nuuk, Greenland’s capital; while expensive, it afforded a calm and private place to sleep and rest during the day. The ferry is a fun experience and special way to see Greenland, including some tiny coastal villages (some stops along the way required us to launch a dinghy to pick up the passengers and bring them aboard). It’s a basic ship with relatively simple food options (bring snacks and whatever else you might like aboard, including books, games, etc.). It’s typically too windy to be outside for more than a few minutes at a time, though you can disembark at some of the larger ports en route (notably Sisimiut, which was a nice place to stretch my legs and walk around for a couple of hours)—check first on the departure time before disembarking.

Arctic Umiaq ferry, Greenland — The Arctic Umiaq ferry

Kangaamiut, Greenland — The town of Kangaamiut seen from the ferry

Nuuk is worth a night or two to get a sense of life in Greenland’s capital and largest town, though it is decidedly less charming than Ilulissat. During my stay, the winds were too strong for most outdoor activities, and the standup paddleboard tour I’d booked was cancelled. This is not uncommon in Greenland, and travelling here during any time of year requires an open mind and flexibility. My flight from Nuuk back to Kangerlussuaq was repeatedly delayed and then cancelled due to the high winds, and I eventually arrived on another flight later that evening once the winds had temporarily relented. As it was after 6pm, nothing was open in Kangerlussuaq (no grocery stores, restaurants, etc., of which there are just a couple to begin with), so be sure to have food with you. I was personally saved by my Airbnb host’s instant ramen supply, for which I am eternally grateful. Kangerlussuaq is largely skippable except as a starting point for an ice sheet tour, a worthwhile experience to see a piece of our planet that may not be around for much longer.

Viewpoint in Nuuk, Greenland — Colourful residential buildings in Nuuk

Where to eat and drink

Cafe Iluliaq, Ilulissat

Inuit Cafe, Ilulissat

Koks, Ilimanaq

Killut Cafe, Nuuk

Daddy’s, Nuuk

Godthåb Bryghus, Nuuk

Sarfalik, Nuuk

Restaurant Charoen Porn, Nuuk

Kristinemut, Nuuk

Where to stay

Airbnb in central Ilulissat

Arctic Umiaq ferry (between Ilulissat and Nuuk)

Airbnb in Nuuk

In search of the path less traveled: Nicaragua

July 16, 2024

It will likely take you the whole day to get to Little Corn Island, a small speck of lush jungle meets hidden beaches, with just footpaths and boats to get around. The island is reachable only by boat from nearby Big Corn Island, itself accessible by ferry or flight from the mainland. Often the more difficult to reach places on this increasingly crowded planet are among the more alluring, and this is no exception.

Arriving to Little Corn Island, Nicaragua — Arriving to Little Corn Island

After 3 flights, a short group taxi, and a bumpy 45 minute boat ride run by some of the friendliest people around, all our weariness dissipated as we disembarked on Little Corn and walked a hundred metres or so to our lodging. Dropping off our bags, we ran out to the nearby beach to take a dip in the sea alongside the setting sun. Afterwards, we feasted on local seafood and pasta at the Italian-run Cafe Desideri, located among the cluster of eateries and sundry shops in town. By 10pm, every spot had closed, and most of the island was asleep amidst a calmness that is increasingly hard to find these days. No cars or motorbikes zoomed past in the night. Even a bicycle was a rare occurrence on an island on which everyone walks. And electricity on the island runs only at night.

Ferry to Little Corn Island, Nicaragua — Ferry arriving to Little Corn Island

We woke up early and excited for one of the purposes of our trip: scuba diving! Little Corn is surrounded by a shallow reef that is home to an abundance of sea creatures: octopus, turtles, lobster, crabs, shrimp, rays, nurse sharks, and more. We dove with Las Palmeras Dive Center, which is conveniently located and well-run. They typically offer two dives in the morning and a night dive departing just before sunset. The night dives were some of the best I’d experienced anywhere. We were treated to octopus sightings and flashes of bioluminescence when the moonlight disappeared behind some clouds in the sky above us, leaving us in darkness and better able to see the flashes of light all around.

Beach, Little Corn Island, Nicaragua — Beach cove along the northern coast of Little Corn Island, Nicaragua

Dirt trails run across the island through tropical forest filled with mango and other seasonal fruit, leading to small beach coves framed by palm trees. Worth a visit are the northern beaches (reachable via a 20 minute walk from town past the local stadium, or via a short boat ride), featuring gentle waves great for swimming, a fish shack, and an upscale restaurant called Erizo (part of the Yemaya Reefs resort, the only one on the island). We savored the rondon, a traditional island seafood stew with root vegetables simmered in a coconut milk broth; a cucumber and kiwi salad with calala dressing; palm hearts and fruit ceviche.

Walking path, Little Corn Island, Nicaragua — Walking path on Little Corn Island

Yemaya Reef, Little Corn Island, Nicaragua — Yemaya Reef, Little Corn

A few coves to the east is Derek’s Place, another lodging option with hammocks and a laid back vibe. Tracking back inland to then join a path leading to the windward side of the island, you’ll reach Little Corn Beach and Bungalow and its restaurant, the Turned Turtle, where you can eat delicious local specialties with your feet in the sand while watching the waves roll in (note: open for breakfast and lunch only). On our last evening on the island, we had dinner by the southern edge of town at the casual, family-run Melissa’s, serving perhaps the tastiest food around. Named after their young daughter, Melissa’s features fresh, locally caught fish and lobster as well as chicken, served as a stew with vegetables and rice.

We met a number of foreigners who had come to visit Little Corn, only to find themselves still there years later. The appeal of living on what can perhaps best be described as the edge of civilisation is strong, and it was with some regret that we took the boat back to Big Corn Island to continue our trip. We spent just one night on Big Corn, which was decidedly less charming. It did, however, feature one of the highlights of our trip: Bit Coin Island Bar. It’s a floating wooden bar located off of Arenas Beach (not to be confused with the impostor bar floating nearby, created to piggyback off the success of the original), and you reach it by standing on the beach and waving your arms until they see you and send a speedboat. We didn’t wait for more than a couple of minutes before being whisked away, and in no time at all we found ourselves in the care of Ana, the wonderful bartender who insisted on sharing playlists and dancing with us as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Beach on Big Corn Island, Nicaragua — Big Corn Island

Sunset at Arenas Beach, Big Corn Island, Nicaragua — Sunset, Arenas beach, Big Corn Island

The following day, we made our way to Granada, located on the shores of Lake Cocibolca, one of many towns known for its colourful architecture, checkered history, and vibrant community in which Nicaraguans and foreigners mingle. Nicaragua’s colonial past is predictably on display, and it’s easy to visit the main sights in a day or two. We stayed at the central and charmingly designed Casa del Consulado, featuring a refreshing pool in one of the courtyards. A block away is the central square, where you’ll find street vendors and the main cathedral. The nearby Garden Cafe is a great option for lunch and has delicious fruit juices and cocktails. For dinner, the more upscale NM Culinary features an inventive take on local specialties, or try one of the many options along the pedestrian-only Calle La Calzada. We enjoyed the old world charm of Hotel Dario, with an open air restaurant and cafe overlooking a lush central courtyard.

Central square in Granada, Nicaragua — Granada’s vibrant central square

Horse carriage, Granada, Nicaragua — Horses ready for a ride, Granada

Calle la calzada, Granada, Nicaragua — Calle La Calzada, Granada

Worth visiting are the Church of the Mercy and the Iglesia Xalteva, each featuring a small belltower from which you can see the expanse of the town leading to the surrounding Mombacho and Masaya volcanos. We also enjoyed a cool stroll around Casa Tres Mundos, one of the oldest buildings in Granada, which today hosts contemporary art exhibits. Afterwards, treat yourself to a cold chocolate from the nearby Bate Bate Chocolate cafe, or even a chocolate massage at the Mansion de Chocolate. Nicaragua is a significant producer of cocoa, and it’s a great gift for those back home. It was time for us, too, to head back home, but the country has so much more to offer. I like to leave something for next time in places I’ve enjoyed visiting, and that is certainly the case with Nicaragua.

Church in Granada, Nicaragua — The past meets the present, Granada

Where to eat and drink

Cafe Desideri, Little Corn Island

Tranquilo Cafe, Little Corn Island

Melissa’s, Little Corn Island

Turned Turtle (part of the Little Corn Beach and Bungalow), Little Corn Island

Erizo (part of Yemaya Reefs - upscale), Little Corn Island

Bit Coin Bar, Big Corn Island

The Garden Cafe, Granada

Bate Bate Chocolate, Granada

NM Culinary, Granada

Hotel Dario, Granada

Where to stay

Sunshine Hotel, Little Corn Island

Little Corn Beach and Bungalow, Little Corn Island

Derek’s Place, Little Corn Island

Yemaya Reefs, Little Corn Island

Hotel Casa del Consulado, Granada

The allure of islands

July 11, 2020

“We live—as we dream—alone…” - Joseph Conrad

These words of Conrad’s resonated with me when I first read them in Heart of Darkness years ago. In many ways, we live independently, never truly knowing the depths of others. For years, I’ve been drawn to remote islands when I travel, and since travel isn’t quite possible right now, I’ve taken some time to reflect on why. Islands are solitary, independent, stoic—they don’t care whether you tend to them or not; they can fend for themselves. They’re the perfect escape, and yet, they are also inescapable. The next ship or flight out may not be for a few days, and until that time, you’re committed.

One of my first trips to an island was to Ikaria, which, according to Greek mythology, is formed from the remains of Icarus, who flew too close to the sun. Ikaria is a spectacular mix of dramatic, steep mountains inhabitable only by goats and stunning beach coves where the cliffs meet the sea. Though the island briefly gained some popularity following a New York Times article describing the island’s inhabitants’ longevity (many currently live well into their 90s or later), spurring a wave of dining on Mediterranean staples, it remains a calm and simple place. In a way, things here are much as they were 50 years ago, and perhaps even further back. There is no room for posturing on an island of this size, as everyone knows each other, and gossip remains a vital form of currency. With roots in Ikaria, Mihalis Kavouriaris has been running a language school high up on the northern side of the island, by the village of Arethousa, for over 20 years. Offering a range of relatively intensive courses in Greek language and culture, the school attracts students both young and old, with one thing in common: a sense of adventure. Reaching Ikaria involves a flight into Athens, followed by a transfer to the port of Piraeus, after which you board a ferry for the six hour ride to Evdilos or Agios Kirykos, the two port towns on Ikaria. You can also fly to Ikaria, bypassing some of the journey, but that feels a bit too easy. It was, after all, Odysseus who showed us that the journey is just as important as the destination.

Once at the school, mornings and early afternoons are occupied with classes, but the sun of the midday and late afternoon are all yours. I spent many a scorching afternoon daydreaming at the small outdoor tables overlooking the Aegean (on a clear day, the island of Chios and mainland Turkey come into view), writing down my hopes and dreams for the future. For what I might become. Islands can push you to take a hard look inside yourself and reflect on what you are, and what you want to be, in a way that no other place can. Islands, after all, are focused on survival: what truly matters? What do we need to live?

A few years ago, I was lucky enough to travel to a much more remote set of four islands, the Aldabra Group in the Seychelles. Uninhabited save for a few researchers who receive supplies by ship several times a year, this group of atolls was spared destruction by humans because it has no source of fresh water. It is the only place in the world besides the Galápagos where the giant tortoise roams, and you feel very much a passing visitor to a foreign land. You can reach one of the islands, Assumption, by small plane, but you’ll need a ship to see anything else. We travelled there aboard the National Geographic Orion, setting sail from Dar es Salaam in Tanzania a few days prior. One evening, we came ashore from the ship via Zodiac and witnessed sea turtle hatchlings heading out to sea under the superbly clear southern sky. Never had I seen such a dizzying array of stars, so many that it seemed there was more light than darkness in the sky. With the warm Indian Ocean lapping at our feet, it was comforting to feel that we were the only humans around for miles, in a place inaccessible to others: that is also the magic of an island.

Much of the enchantment of islands is not immediately visible—you’ll need to go below the surface. Aldabra is a coral atoll, and with the tide, while scuba diving or snorkeling, you can drift into its inner lagoon, the current pushing you along its abundant reefs and wildlife in a crystal-clear reverie. Schools of snapper, aggregations of eagle rays, and solitary sea turtles pass by with the most imperceptible of nods. Just offshore, shivers of black-tipped reef sharks circle in the shallows, and you immediately feel a sense of wonder for these often-feared animals. These sharks have no interest in humans, preferring to explore the warm waters in search of fish and to play-fight among themselves. But they are curious: upon dipping a camera into the water, I quickly found a young shark investigating this novel intruder, nudging with its snout to test its boundaries.

Some islands have developed rich cultures that over centuries have thrived on their seclusion. The Faroe Islands, accessible by plane from Copenhagen, are a place I’ve often dreamed of during this quarantine. Due to the islands’ remoteness, the local people have developed a way of life drawing on their creativity and resourcefulness: food is often fermented to preserve its nutrients for harder times, and no piece of any animal is wasted. More remote villages have been connected via an intricate network of tunnels to ensure passage even during rough seas, resulting in a dispersed but also interdependent population. The islands’ beauty feels all the more striking due to their isolation: you recognise what a privilege it is to experience such a place, to hike for miles in the company of nature, without coming across another human being.

And yet, the beauty of islands does not necessarily lie in their remoteness. Some are inhabited so densely that you might easily forget you’re on one. Manhattan is a perfect example: you could live your entire life without leaving, and its connections to the rest of New York City are so heavily trafficked as to feel permanent. Bridges, ferries, subways, buses, bikes are constantly buzzing, and the sense of scarcity here is defined more by the distance between the haves and the have nots. Yet each time I see the Manhattan skyline after some time away, I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of possibility: all humanity is here, and you can find anything you like, at any time of day or night. Authentic Colombian arepas? Just around the corner. Some of the best sushi in the world, flown in daily from Tsukiji fish market in Japan? A few blocks’ walk. A strong community of multi-generational Italians? A short subway ride. In the midst of so much activity, you feel that you are a part of something, that you belong. In the end, perhaps that’s what we live for: this sense of belonging. In many ways, islands group like-minded people, allowing us to share our feelings, plans, and dreams. They are reminders of what we really are.

What place do you dream of?

For more island reading, check out this piece by scientist Vivien Cumming.

New Zealand: the North of the North

January 27, 2020

If you’ve read my previous post about New Zealand, you’ll know I fell for the country pretty hard when I visited the North and South islands in a whirlwind two weeks. I went back last month for more, this time spending two weeks in the northern parts of the North Island, which seemed fitting for summertime. It is truly one of my favourite countries in the world: nowhere else is there such a perfect combination of diversity of landscape, little crowding, and amazing local food.

I’ve broken the below into three regional sections; feel free to skip ahead to Auckland & Waiheke, Northland or Waikato & Bay of Plenty.

Auckland & Waiheke

After landing in Auckland, I checked into my cozy Airbnb near the waterfront and strolled over to Shucker Brothers for a feast of local oysters and fish & chips. The following morning, after some light bites at the Auckland Fish Market, I took Fullers ferry over to Waiheke island, known for its vineyards and fresh seafood, for a day trip. Just 30 min each way, the ferry makes the island incredibly accessible, and it’s advisable to rent a car to visit the different vineyards. I stopped for a quick breakfast at Solar Eating House with nice views overlooking Oneroa Bay before continuing eastward towards Man O’ War vineyards, as the paved road turned to gravel and the scenery becoming increasingly wider expanses of green dotted with sheep. There’s a calm bay with a thin stretch of pebbly beach here, which in the summertime fills with boats, swimmers, and kayakers. The wines at Man O’ War are some of the best on the island, with crisp, minerally whites and peppery Syrahs.

The beach by Man O’War vineyards, Waiheke Island

More food may be in order prior to trying more wines, and fortunately Poderi Crisci, run by a Neapolitan named Antonio, is not far away. A picturesque garden setting filled with the smell of jasmine and lavender welcomes you to your table, and traditional Italian staples are on offer. Alternatively, head back towards Onetangi Bay for a delicious seafood spread at Three Seven Two, which has a fantastic indoor/outdoor layout and overlooks the wide stretch of beach. The oysters were some of the best I had in New Zealand, and the wine list is superb.

For something a bit different, check out Casita Miro, which feels like stepping into Parc Guell in Barcelona. The wines are decent, but the views make it worth a stop. For better wines, head to Tantalus and the neighbouring Stonyridge, which I followed with a quick stop at the Te Matuku Bay seafood market for another dozen local oysters. Cap off the day at Cable Bay Vineyards, with views of Auckland in the distance. For dinner, back in Auckland, I thoroughly enjoyed the lamb chop at Giraffe together with a friend who flew in to join me for the remainder of the trip.

Northland

Feeling full of oysters and lamb and wine, a rare and happy feeling, the following day we made our way north towards Matapouri, the jumping off point for the Poor Knights Islands, one of New Zealand’s best dive sites. En route, we stopped at the Kaiwaka Cheese shop to sample some local cheeses and other products: the manuka smoked cheddar and jalapeno gouda were particularly tasty. Further north, a quick hike led to the scenic Whangarei Falls, and nearby was the highlight of the day: Abbey Caves. A set of 3 caves reachable from the road via a short walk, these are particularly special because they aren’t commercialised and are filled with glowworms! To the uninitiated, glowworms are not actually worms, but rather larvae of fungus gnats (a much less glamourous term) that produce a bioluminescent blue-green glow. Some of the entrances to the caves are a bit tight, and the caves can be quite wet, so wear appropriate clothing and footwear (ideally water shoes or hiking shoes that can get wet, as well as a headlamp). Turn off your lights once well inside and enjoy the spectacle!

Our Airbnb near Matapouri was clean and well-located to the dive shop the next morning. We went with Yukon dives, and the boat was one of the nicest dive boats I have ever been on, complete with an upper outside area and a lower, fully-enclosed space full of comfortable bean bags and pillows. Beware, however, the water temperatures, which were at just 17C. These are drysuit diving waters, though the dive shop will assure you that everyone is fine in the 6.5mm wetsuits and hoods they supply. I insisted on layering an additional 3mm wetsuit on top of that, and I was still absolutely freezing within about 60 seconds of entering the water. The water was relatively choppy, though underneath the surface, the sway of the large-leafed, bright yellow and green algae was mesmerising. Large schools of fish and stingrays abounded, and multiple swimthroughs surrounded by the yellow algae truly made this a memorable divesite. In the shallows, caverns along the islands make for spectacular backlit window vistas onto the depths.

Resident emus at Raewyn & Rosco’s farmstay

Homemade Christmas dessert at Raewyn & Rosco’s farmstay

One of the most memorable Airbnbs of the trip was Raewyn & Rosco’s farmstay in Waiharara, where I was lucky enough to be over Christmas. Their dog Jess came out to greet me, nearly jumping into my car. They joked that since they didn’t have much family in the area, they had rented Americans to entertain them over the holidays. But they have many animals to make up for it: emus, cows, pigs, and ducks roam about, and the property borders a scenic creek upon which you can canoe. They cooked a fantastic Christmas dinner that we were invited to share in, and their breakfasts were the best of the trip. Raewyn & Rosco’s hospitality made me feel right at home despite being thousands of miles away from my own family.

The next day, we took an incredibly scenic road trip up to Cape Reinga, the northernmost point of New Zealand. It is where the Tasman and Pacific seas meet in a thunderous mix of greens, blues, and greys, and it’s a place of special significance to the Maori, New Zealand’s indigenous people: it is the point where the spirits of the dead enter the underworld. A stunning hiking path leads from near the lighthouse at the end of the peninsula to the completely wild Te Werahi beach. Dress in layers and wear sunscreen; conditions can change quickly.

Cape Reinga with a view to Te Werahi beach

A short drive away are the equally stunning Te Paki giant sand dunes. You’d not be remiss to think you could be somewhere in the middle east, and yet all of these incredibly varied landscapes are in just one part of one small country. Bring a board to coast down the dunes, or simply enjoy getting lost in the alien landscape.

Should you be craving a swim after the dryness of the dunes, head to nearby white sand Rarawa beach. If you’ve got a 4x4, you can actually drive onto the beach if you’d like. Kitesurfing is possible here as well if the conditions are right. We also checked out the much windier 90 mile beach (it truly does stretch as far as the eye can see in either direction) on the windward side of the peninsula, where tides can change quickly and more than a few cars have gotten stuck.

Our next stop was another farmstay Airbnb further south in Ruawai. En route, we stopped at the Mangonui fish shop for some fish & chips, followed by the Puketi Forest for a short loop hike through a large grove of the currently endangered kauri trees, a species endemic to New Zealand. These large behemoths are reminiscent of California redwoods, but are currently being killed off by an incurable pathogen that can be spread in a single pinhead of soil (typically due to human activity). Signs and spray canisters at the start of trails instruct you to wash and disinfect the soles of your shoes to help prevent spreading the disease.

The road from Puketi to Ruawai was one of the curviest and emptiest of the trip, and a true pleasure to drive along. Upon reaching Pete & Sara’s farmstay, we were met by Pete, who promptly took us on a short hike to Tokatoka peak to enjoy the vista over the surrounding plains together with his dalmatian, Bella. A former dairy farmer, Pete’s boundless energy and enthusiasm for hosting visitors from around the world was infectious. He introduced us to the alpacas, sheep and donkeys on his farm and showed us how to feed them, and after a home-cooked dinner, we wheeled out his large telescopic to look at the clear night sky largely free of noise pollution. I woke up at 6am to join him at a neighbouring dairy farm where I learned about the process and even milked a couple of cows. Northland is truly New Zealand at its best.

Waikato & Bay of Plenty

From the rolling hills of Northland, we headed east to the Coromandel peninsula, known among Kiwis for its spectacular beaches and stunning cliffside walks. The drive there along the Firth of Thames is a stunning one and worth the slight detour from the main highway road. Stripes of aqua, turquoise and deep blue merge into each other, and a stroll through Waitawa Regional Park can be a great place to stretch your legs.

New Chums beach, reachable via a short hike

Coromandel itself is a cute seaside town and a nice spot for a stroll. I picked up some local cheeses and snacks at The Coromandel Smoking Co, and Umu Cafe serves up tasty breakfasts. We unfortunately didn’t have enough time to head up to Fletcher Bay and the Coromandel Coastal Walkway, but it is supposed to be a spectacular day hike. We did do a short walk along the coastline to reach New Chums Beach, which was perhaps one of the prettiest beaches of the trip (it is frequently voted one of New Zealand’s most beautiful beaches). From there, we stopped off for a daily dose of oysters at Salt Restaurant in Whitianga and enjoyed lazing on Hahei beach as afternoon turned to twilight and the sun disappeared behind us.

The following morning, I woke up before sunrise to walk to Cathedral Cove before the crowds. It was well worth it, as there were just a few others there, and the lighting was spectacular for photography. Incredibly crowded and hence skippable, however, was Hot Water Beach. There are a number of other spots where you can enjoy the thermal heat without the crowds (more on that later). Breakfast at Flatwhite in Waihi features a great view over the ocean and delicious food, and we were lucky enough to be in town for the weekly farmer’s market, where we purchased some eggs and avocados for the coming days.

Also well worth a stop is the Leveret Estate winery, which features award-winning and reasonably priced wines as well as very kind and patient salespeople. From there, we checked into our Airbnb in Tauranga (with a hot tub!), where we were welcomed by the very kind Pete and Karen and nice views over the surrounding area. We headed to Waimarino Adventure Park for an evening kayaking trip to McLaren Falls Park, complete with more glowworms. We set out in small groups of kayakers as the last rays of the day illuminated the lake and its numerous black swans and headed upstream to a few channels where glowworms illuminate the surrounding rocks. It was truly a magical evening.

The following morning, I set out early to complete the Tarawera Trail, a 15k one-way hike along Lake Tarawera to Hot Water Beach, which, as the name implies, is a thermally heated beach on the lake where you can dig your own hot water pools or simply swim in heated areas of the lake by the shore. You book a water taxi to take you back from here to where you parked your car. The hike will take you through lakeside bushland and varied tree groves, featuring a number of intermittent climbs. The swim at the end of the hike is a relaxing reward, though be sure to book your water taxi in advance, as it runs only if it’s been booked.

The following morning was New Year’s Eve, and in an effort to show off some dewy skin, we booked a mudbath and sulphur bath at the aptly named Hell’s Gate. A walk through the area takes you through various bubbling pools and beautiful colours from the bacteria that survive in this extreme temperatures before you settle into the mudbath. An attendant will explain the best way to apply the mud, and after 20 minutes, you are whisked off to the sulphur pools (bring an old bathing suit, as you will likely never be able to wash out the smell) to allow your skin to further soften.

Afterwards, I hiked through the nearby Waimangu Volcanic Valley, which features numerous spectacularly coloured pools and streams due to the underlying thermal activity in the area. In the evening, we enjoyed the small fireworks show over Lake Taupo and lingered on the beach, parts of which are also thermally heated. It was a fitting end to a spectacular decade.

Mine Bay Maori rock carvings, Lake Taupo

I started off the New Year the following morning with a 5k kayak (each way) from Acacia Bay (hire your own kayak or join a tour) to the Maori rock carvings at Mine Bay. Kayaking will take about 75 minutes each way, so it’s not a bad idea to bring along a friend to make it a bit easier on the arms. The rock carvings are quite large and intricate, and the views of snow-capped Mt Tongariro, Mt Ruapehu and Mt Ngauruhoe in the distance over Lake Taupo make the trip even more spectacular.

Emerald Lakes, Tongariro Alpine Crossing

Of course, one of the most popular activities in the area is the 20k Tongariro Alpine Crossing hike. Last time I visited New Zealand, strong winds prevented me from doing the hike, but this time the weather was on my side. I booked a one-way shuttle from the Ketetahi car park to the start of the trail with Tongariro Expeditions and found myself starting the hike just after 6am as the golden orb of the sun rose into a hazy morning. The landscape varies from light brush and volcanic rock to something best described as lunar to thick forest, and temperatures vary accordingly; I was grateful for my gloves and windproof jacket at the start of the hike, but I’d shed most of my layers about halfway through. The climax, with the aptly named and spectacularly hued Red Crater coming into view, occurs about halfway through the hike. Soon after, the three bright Emerald lakes steal the show, followed by a steep scramble that leads into the seemingly never-ending descent.

Mountain biking is also on offer in the area, and we checked out some of the trails that form the Craters of the Moon geothermal area as well as past Huka Falls and up the Waikato River. You can rent bikes from FourB, and take a dip in the Warm Water Lake area of Lake Taupo for a soothing reward afterwards. I very much enjoyed the seafood at the Edgewater Restaurant with views overlooking the sunset on the lake in the evening, and the lamb and scallop risotto at Vine Eatery were one of my favourite meals of the trip.

Abseiling into the Lost World cave, Waitomo

On our last day in New Zealand, we did the Lost World tour with Waitomo Adventures, during which you abseil about 100 metres down into a wet cave system and something that truly does look like a long-forgotten world. I was happy to have selected the 4-hour rather than the full day tour: half a day gives a nice highlight of the experience and does not require wearing a wetsuit and getting completely wet. There are glowworms here, too, and the cave features beautiful vistas looking back through the natural window at the entrance. Keep in mind that what goes down into a cave must come up, and there’s a ladder with over 100 rungs that you’ll have to climb at the end to get out.

Afterwards, we enjoyed cups of locally grown tea and some light snacks at the Zealong Tea Estate en route back to Auckland, where we feasted on cloudy bay clams in a coriander sauce along with fresh oysters at Depot, and lingered over creative cocktail creations at John & May’s. We had a great night’s sleep at our Airbnb in Auckland, which featured amazing views of the city, a hot tub, and yes, a trampoline. The following day, the sky had turned an unearthly yellow hue due to the Australian wildfires. It was a stark reminder that despite being endowed with all the beauty in the world, New Zealand is still affected by human (in)action, and what we do directly affects the world around us.

Where to eat & drink

Shucker Brothers, Auckland

Auckland Fish Market, Auckland

Giraffe, Auckland

Depot, Auckland

John & May’s, Auckland

Solar Eating House, Waiheke Island

Man O’ War vineyards, Waiheke Island

Poderi Crisci, Waiheke Island

Three Seven Two, Waiheke Island

Casita Miro, Waiheke Island

Tantalus, Waiheke Island

Stonyridge, Waiheke Island

Cable Bay Vineyards, Waiheke Island

Kaiwaka Cheese shop, Kaiwaka, Northland

Mangonui Fish Shop, Mangonui, Northland

The Coromandel Smoking Co, Coromandel, Waikato

Umu Cafe, Coromandel, Waikato

Salt Restaurant, Whitianga, Waikato

Zealong Tea Estate, near Hamilton, Waikato

Edgewater Restaurant, Taupo, Waikato

Vine Eatery, Taupo, Waikato

Flatwhite, Waihi, Bay of Plenty

Leveret Estate winery, Katikati, Bay of Plenty

Find local businesses, view maps and get driving directions in Google Maps.

Map of the approximate route driven (roughly 2,800km in total)

In search of rhythm in Cape Verde

October 30, 2019

“Where is Cape Verde?,” you might ask, and you would not be alone. Located a few hundred miles off the coast of Senegal, this set of volcanically formed islands is on few travellers’ radars. The country is also relatively hard to reach - direct flights run from either Lisbon or Ponta Delgada in the Azores, though fares are typically priced very reasonably. Geologically similar to the Azores, Cape Verde also has a Portuguese colonial history, achieving independence in 1975. Portuguese is spoken, as is Creole, with occasional English.

But this is a very different place than the Azores. You are no longer in Europe, but in Africa. Upon landing at Praia, I encountered a set of taxis waiting in front of the airport, charging a hefty 1,000 escudos ($10) for the 5-7 minute drive into the city. I declined, as I would have a night in Praia at the end of my trip, and opted to wait the four hours before my next internal flight at the airport cafe.

I was headed to São Vicente, the home of famed singer Cesária Évora, and the musical and cultural capital of the islands. Binter CV Airlines makes the trip, and on approach to São Vicente, a small church dramatically perched on rocky cliffs appears off the left side of the plane as you touch down 50 minutes later. I’d rented a car from Dyrk, and Emerson, the nephew of the owner, met me at the small airport. He was kind enough to stay with me as we sought to locate Georgette Guesthouse, on the fifth floor of a relatively modern apartment building overlooking the man-made but incredibly striking Laginha beach. The guesthouse’s stunning balcony, spacious rooms and hearty breakfast made it the perfect place to stay in Mindelo.

View of Laginha beach from Georgette’s guesthouse in Mindelo

After settling in, I went for a quick dip in the ocean, eyeing the island of Santo Antão in the distance, where I would head the following day. But first, food. I had a delicious octopus dish at Kalimba beach club, located directly on the beach, with incredibly friendly staff, followed by my first time trying percebes (goose neck barnacles, which are notoriously difficult and dangerous to gather) at Casa Cafe Mindelo. Percebes taste of the sea, with a texture similar to soft clams. Restaurants in Mindelo frequently feature live music from local bands and artists, and music videos of Cape Verdean artists looped for hours in the city’s cafes. The vibe is vibrant and energised in the most laid back way, so that time flows fluidly, and nothing is ever rushed. This is island life, after all.

The next morning, I took the ferry (along with my rental car) to Santo Antão, perhaps the most beautiful of the three islands I visited on this trip. The ferry arrives in Porto Novo, which is unremarkable except as a place to get supplies at a local mini-market, or for a fish dinner at the Italian-run Ristorante La Lampara. Take the interior road, a great source of pride for Cape Verdeans, which was hand-paved in granite stones several decades ago over the course of several years to reach Ponta do Sol at the other end. The vistas en route are simply otherworldly: fast-moving fog enveloping lush greenery, steep mountain passes, and locals going about their daily lives watching you as you drive by. I found myself gasping aloud in my car at the sheer beauty. There are also aluguers, or local collective minivans, that drive these routes, but I preferred to have my own car to maintain the freedom to stop when I wanted. As I encountered few other cars along the route, frequent stops for breathtaking views and photos were easy. On a couple occasions, locals approached me for a ride to the next village, and I happily obliged. Even as a solo female traveller, I never felt unsafe - ridesharing is simply a part of the culture, and it led to several interesting conversations and encounters. My Portuguese is basic, but I gave a ride to a papaya grower going to market who left me one as a gift, a schoolgirl who spoke fluent French and was curious about what I was doing in her country, and an elderly gentleman who was going to visit family in a neighbouring town. Yes, I did receive my fair share of stares most everywhere I went, but I ascribe that to the novelty of a solo female traveller in these parts.

View of Covo, the interior crater on Santo Antão

Once you reach Ponta do Sol, I highly recommend walking the road to Fontainhas (you reach it by heading left after the highest church in town; ask any of the locals), or driving if you’ve got a 4x4. The vistas are striking, and Fontainhas is something of its own world. I made the trek a couple of hours before sunset, and the colour palette was quite unlike anything I’d seen before. As with most places in Cape Verde, I encountered fewer than five other tourists en route.

I took the easier (and sometimes paved, thanks to a recent collaboration with an Italian construction company) coastal road to return to Porto Novo, spending the night en route at an Airbnb near Paul, in the village of Pombas. In the waning hours of the afternoon, I strolled by Senhor Ildo’s grog (a local sugarcane liquor) distillery to sample some of the local products and learn about how they are made. In the morning, a sausage and egg cachupa (the national dish, typically a slow-cooked stew of various meats and vegetables) took some time but was a tasty base for the day at Casa Maracuja.

A grog distillery near Paul, Santo Antão

Cachupa at Chez Loutcha, Mindelo, São Vicente

Upon my return to Sao Vicente, I decided to check out Salamansa, a small fishing village on the island’s north coast made famous by a Cesária Évora song by the same name. There’s a small creperie right on the beach, and you can hire kitesurfing equipment should you find yourself there in winter months with higher winds. Baia das Gatas was largely skippable, but driving further east, with dramatic views en route, you’ll reach the rockier stretches of Calhau, where the road ends. Further south lies the sprawling sandy expanse of São Pedro, perhaps the nicest beach on the island. Circle back to Mindelo for dinner at Chez Loutcha (be sure to try the cachupa and the canja de galinha, a hearty take on chicken soup) followed by a nightcap at the Clube Nautico.

The road between Salamansa and Calhau, São Vicente, Cape Verde

On my final day, after flying back to Praia, I chose to explore the capital on foot from my base at my Airbnb in Plateau. Plateau is pleasant enough, and you can walk through the local market as well as by the Presidential Palace. But I would not recommend walking on foot into the central part of town from here: this was the first and only time I felt unsafe in the country, as I encountered solo or pairs of males who made unpleasant comments as I passed, and the general state of affairs was very run-down. I made it on foot to the local monument to Pope John Paul II, who visited the country in 1990, and in whose honour there is both a cross and a statue that serves as something of a local gathering place for all. Although I am not personally religious, visiting this site was personally touching given the Pope was Polish, and I felt a common ground that unites people around the world, despite their many differences. Cape Verde is not an easy place to visit, but it is all the more rewarding for that very reason.