We’re going away this week: me, the two girls and Barbie.
Here’s a clue as to where we will be reporting back from:
Video: Royal Caribbean’s Barbie Experience
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* For images from the trip, check out my Flickr set, Barbie cruise.
* This is the latest post in a weekly series, highlighting stories from my travel-writing archive. Subscribe to the RSS feed for more.
I love the thrill of the open road. Shades on, foot to the floor and cruising through alien landscapes with the stereo cranked right up.
But Vietnam was just about the last place I expected to find myself on a road trip. Self-drive isn’t really an option here.
Indeed, if I wanted a ride outside my hotel in Hanoi, I’d just flag down a passing motorbike, slip the driver 5,000 Vietnamese Dong (US$0.33) and hop on the back.
And, as for the State-approved backpacker bus trips, well, let’s just say that rubbing knees with the tie-dye clad hordes and eating in the tourist restaurant, where the bus driver always collects his kickback, isn’t my scene.
Easy rider
Luckily, I came across a flyer for the Hanoi Minsk club, a group of petrolheads who eschew the trappings of mass tourism in favour of small group trips to remote rural locations.
It sounded perfect. A way to get my engine running and get out on the highway while staying off-the-beaten-track and seeing the real Vietnam.
As I strapped my backpack to the bike and wiped the grime off my helmet’s visor on a sunny Hanoi morning, I knew I wasn’t in for a five star luxury. But, hey, I’d always harboured Dennis Hopper Easy Rider fantasies and, besides, I just love the smell of gasoline in the mornings.
Minsk club (named after the Russian 125cc two-stoke motorbikes) is the brainchild of Australian-born Digby Greenhalgh, who moved to Vietnam just after 1993’s doi moi reform policies first opened the country to tourism.
Since then, Digby has made hundreds of trips into the backwaters of the far north, building up a comprehensive motorbike guide to northern Vietnam.
“The bikes are old 50’s designs straight out of Belarussia. They’re the backbone of the country and used by everyone to haul goods around,” explains Digby, saddling up.
“They don’t go very fast, use a lot of petrol and billow out a lot of smoke, but they’ll get you anywhere,” he adds.
“Besides, they’re very easy to fix. If you’ve got a stick and a rock you can fix a Minsk.”
Cruise control
With the sun in our faces, we join the highway near Hanoi’s Noi Bai airport and start the slow climb northwards. As we progress at a steady 35km/h, overtaking lumbering trucks soon gives way to overtaking lumbering water buffalo who eye suspiciously as we file past the paddy fields.
We stop for dinner that night in Tuyen Quang. It’s a dusty one-ass town dominated by trucker rest stops and so-called bia om or ‘cuddle beer’ outlets where the town’s two attractions make for natural bedfellows.
As we settle down for the night in the shabby state-owned hotel, one of my fellow easy riders, Casey McCarthy from Texas, tells me why she has chosen a severe buttock buffing on a motorbike in the rain for her holiday.
“I’d never seen a Minsk before Vietnam and, although it’s ancient technology, it’s a very easy ride,” she says. “I guess I just wanted to get away from those cattle-truck bus trips and a bike trip is the best way to see the countryside as you decide where and when you want to go.”
The next day we’re up with the light and, after a hearty bowl of Vietnamese pho bo (a rice noodle soup with strips of beef), we’re back in the saddle and on the road for Ha Giang.
As we stop for petrol at what looks like a roadside chemistry set, I ask Digby what kind of people are attracted to the idea of driving around rural Vietnam on a piece of Russian war-era machinery.
“Half are motorbike riders back home or people with some previous experience but not all. I’d never ridden a bike until I came to Vietnam,” he explains, taking a little bottle of engine oil and mixing it with petrol.
“Drive bikes and you will crash but drive slow enough and you’ll be OK,” he adds, handing over a dollar for two litres. “If we go over, we’ll just slide – unless we hit something. But it’s nothing like driving at 130km back home when you get washed up off the road”.
Alien invasion
The last 50km to Ha Giang is made up of winding country lanes. It’s a drive not best experienced at dusk when huge trucks with dazzling headlights tear around blind corners with scant regard for approaching fellow truckers, let alone a bunch of foreigners on motorbikes in dayglo jackets.
As we make the final approach, it feels like entering a long-forgotten Wild West outpost. The locals stare at us like aliens just beamed down from another planet but Digby is used to it.
“I regularly go to places where only a handful of strangers have ever been before. Just two weeks ago, I took a tour to a place where only three foreigners had ever visited before the new road was built,” he smiles.
“Just as I was thinking that I’d been everywhere possible, the Vietnamese Government has launched a programme to build roads to each commune so a there’s now a whole bunch of new roads to explore,” he adds.
“That’s why I do this. It isn’t so much a tour as a road trip where the guide is having as much fun as the customers.”
* This story was first published in the Independent in 2006.
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* This is the latest post in a weekly series, highlighting stories from my travel-writing archive. Subscribe to the RSS feed for more.
Want to read more like this? Try also Baltic Culture in Tallinn. And watch my video blog from this trip.
Why Go Now?
The explosion of luminous-green signs around the Baltics signals the start of the Lithuanian capital’s reign as the new European Capital of Culture (along with Austria’s Linz). The Culture Live programme features around 900 events, 60 per cent of which are free to attend. Vilnius is evolving fast having only gained its independence in 1990, the first former Soviet state to do so. A new National Art Gallery, opening in June, will host The V&A’s blockbuster Cold War Modern exhibition from October. Specialist tour operator Baltic Holidays is now offering two-night cultural packages from £229 per person.
Checking In
To soak up the winter-wonderland charm of the Unesco-listed Old Town, the Stikliai Hotel is best placed with refined rooms and a genteel ambiance, although the forthcoming Kempinski Hotel Cathedral Square will give it a run for its money from July 1st. Klaipeda Hotel boasts a great location opposite Cathedral Square with comfortable doubles from £140, while Grybas Hotel has homely rooms in a family-run Baroque house (doubles from £96).
Hit the streets
Vilnius is small, so explore on foot. The Old Town is the atmospheric hub with the Gates of Dawn, where a chapel with a gold-leaf image of the Virgin Mary, the must see. Heading northwest, the KGB Museum is both moving and shocking in its graphic illustration of the brutality of the Soviet regime. The original water-isolation chamber holds a grim fascination. The nearby statue of Lenin has long since been exiled but the bust of Frank Zappa still pays a bronze tribute to Vilnius’ favourite rock star. The Vilnius Picture Gallery is currently hosting an exhibition of works by the Georgian artist Niko Pirosmani, while the Contemporary Art Centre, with its permanent exhibition about the avant-garde Fluxus movement that inspired Yoko Ono, hosts Code Share, an international art exchange, until March 8.
Coffee Break
For a cosy latte, Blusyne is a cool café many tourists miss. It’s named after the owners’ dog, hence the sign: ‘In Dog We Trust’. Blusyne is one of Vilnius’ growing band of talking cafes, where debate and coffee fuel the creative ambiance. Mano Guru is notable as Lithuania’s first non-smoking café and for its social programme of giving jobs to reformed drug addicts.
Neighbourhood Watch
The self-styled Republic of Uzupis (pictured above), across the Neris River from the Old Town, is Vilnius’ hippest hang out for its galleries, coffee shops and boho vibe. Galera is the place to catch the latest art installation, while Uzupio Kavine keeps the republic fed and watered. Uzupis has its own president, passport stamp and publishes a constitution, which includes, amongst others, the maxim that, “Man is free to be idle”. Most people in Uzupis are fashionably so.
Retail Therapy
Baltic amber is the traditional souvenir and the Amber Museum Gallery is the place to learn about its history before purchase – a simple stone starts from as little as £5. Otherwise, Stikliu street is a haven for designer boutiques and second-hand treasure troves. Try Julija Zileniene at number 7 for designer fashions.
Worked up an appetite
Zemaiciai is a cellar restaurant to stock up on hearty Lithuanian favourites, such as beetroot soup and meat-filled zeppelins (that’s pancakes to you and me), both accompanied by lashings of sour cream. Try a glass of traditional gira, a non-alcoholic drink made from bread and honey with a distinctive burnt aroma. Otherwise, Bistro 18 has a good wine selection and Avilys is a popular microbrewery with hearty fare. For pub grub Lithuanian style, try Busi Trecias – good beers and sturdy local fare. The pig’s ear pancake, the most typical dish on the menu, does exactly what it says on the tin.
Big night out
Go cultured with a classical recital at the National Philharmonic, where tickets start from around £10, or Baltic bling with the credit-crunching cocktails at Mojito Naktys. Ignore whispers about the haunted cellars at La Boheme. It’s stylish and cosy with its huge fireplace and tasty tapas. The latest in place is In Vino, where the wine list is as eclectic as the crowd gathered at the candlelit tables.
The morning after
The bar at the boutique Shakespeare Hotel is a tucked-away retreat for good coffee and browsing newspapers. Better still, get away from the crowd with a laid-back secret Vilnius tour tailor made by one of the city’s alternative guides. As well as pointing out the stories and legends behind the backstreets of the Old Town, they can arrange for a visit to the White Hall and Astronomical Observatory at Vilnius University, founded in 1753 and based on London’s Greenwich Observatory. Climb the winding, spiral staircase to the watchtower for a blow-away-the-cobwebs panorama across the ever-changing Vilnius cityscape.
* This story was first published in the Observer in 2009.
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* This is the latest post in a weekly series, highlighting stories from my travel-writing archive. Subscribe to the RSS feed for more.
Want to read more like this? Try The Holy Grail of Hotdogs in Copenhagen.
It was the summer of 1968 and young people around the world were clambering for a social revolution. Meanwhile, in Billund, a remote corner of western Denmark, Godtfred Kirk Christiansen was starting his own social revolution – one involving brightly coloured plastic bricks.
For on June 7, 1968, Godtfred opened the doors of LEGOLAND for the first time.
LEGO is one of the world’s favourite toys with seven LEGO boxes now sold every second.
With LEGOLAND Billund celebrating its 40th anniversary this year, and the LEGO toy celebrating its 50th birthday, the park is planning a series of events over summer to mark these milestones.
There are three other LEGOLAND theme parks around the world, namely Windsor, UK, Günzburg, Germany and San Diego, California, while an option for a fifth park in the United States is currently under discussion.
LEGO origins
LEGO was founded in Denmark in 1932 when Ole Kirk Christiansen, a local carpenter, started making wooden toys. He named them LEGO, a contraction of the Danish ‘leg godt’, meaning ‘play well’.
He was unaware at the time that, coincidentally, the Latin meaning of the word is ‘I put together’.
Ole and his son Godtfred started manufacturing plastic bricks after the end of World War II. The first plastic bricks hit the market in 1949 and were named LEGO: Automatic Binding Bricks.
The company underwent exponential growth during the Fifties and Sixties with Godtfred’s children becoming international stars as they were featured playing with LEGO on the front cover of all the boxes. Godtfred had developed the brick design and wisely took out patents on four-tube brick.
He opened the Billund park to showcase his work.
Today LEGO is owned by Kjeld Kirk Christiansen, founder Ole’s grandson. LEGO has three manufacturing plants in Denmark, the Czech Republic and Mexico, and is on sale in over 130 different countries.
The 2,400 different LEGO brick shapes are produced under strict controls, whereby any brick not within a thousandth of a millimetre to the correct size is rejected, ensuring that all bricks can be firmly connected.
For an exclusive preview of the anniversary celebrations, I travel to the nondescript, small town of Billund, which is dominated by the sprawling grey-brick LEGO complex, to learn the secrets behind LEGO’s enduring popularity.
My base for the weekend is the LEGOLAND hotel, a comfortable but not luxurious place to stay with private access to LEGOLAND and family-friendly facilities.
The hotel caters for two distinct groups: families visiting the park and businessmen attending one of LEGO’s Business & Bricks team-building events.
With a captive audience, prices are accordingly high, but the hotel is a LEGO fan’s dream with striking LEGO models throughout – from a LEGO pianist in the bar to a giant LEGO Darth Vader standing guard over reception.
Hotel design
The standard rooms are functional but LEGO devotees will no doubt splash out on the 12 rooms themed around knights, princesses and pirates, which feature LEGO models, en-suite bathrooms and bunk beds for children.
At dinner that night, I chat with some of the other families staying at the hotel. Eight-year-old Kento had come all the way from Yokohama, Japan, to soak up the LEGO experience.
“We’re staying just two nights but it’s worth the journey as Kento loves his LEGO. He plays with it every day,” explains mother, Hiroko.
Closer to home, the Sturrock family, who hail from the East Midlands, are taking a long-weekend break with their two children James and Charles.
“I first came here when I was a little girl and I wanted to bring my boys back here to experience it for themselves,” says mother, Alison.
She adds: “I think they are the perfect age to enjoy the park as they’re now aged seven and nine.”
After a night in a pirate room with a LEGO parrot watching over my bed, I head out the next morning to explore the park.
Around the park
At 140,000m sq and featuring 58m bricks it’s a huge complex, divided into sections for different age groups, including Duplo Land for toddlers, LEGOREDO Town with its Wild West theme for pre teens and Adventure Land with its adventure playground for older kids. There are theme park rides, such as a log flume and racing cars, although most are suitable only for kids aged seven and up.
My favourite section is Miniland, featuring model village-style LEGO takes on famous sights from around the world.
Here a rural scene from Japan, replete with Mount Fuji in the background, has been build entirely from LEGO bricks. It sits, rather incongruously, between scale LEGO models of Bergen and Copenhagen’s Nyhaven district.
The towering model of Mount Rushmore, featuring the iconic image of four American presidents carved into the South Dakota hillside, is the park’s piece de resistance – it is constructed from over 1.5m LEGO bricks and has survived since 1974.
As the company expands, LEGO changes around 30 per cent of its product range each year and all LEGO employees must sign a confidentiality agreement when they join the company to keep secret the products under development in the labs.
“LEGO is all about playful learning. It is such a creative material. It appeals to all ages from Duplo for toddlers to Technic for teenagers,” explains Kurt Bolding Kristensen, Manager of Miniland Projects at LEGOLAND, as we grab a coffee in the hotel bar later that day.
“You can build with LEGO for hours. The only limit is your imagination.”
Behind the scenes
I end my visit with an exclusive, behind-the-scenes peak inside the LEGO Ideas House, a nondescript section of the present-day complex, built on the original house where Ole First invented LEGO.
Closed to the general public, this time-capsule exhibition is normally only open to LEGO employees. It houses early models, such as wooden monkeys on bikes, early packaging and black-and-white adverts from the 1950s.
I finish my tour following the development of LEGO through the ages and come face to face with a LEGO TECHNIC tractor set I remember my parents buying for me as a Christmas present when I was ten years old.
“Everyone played with LEGO as kids and, when they come to the exhibition and see their old toys, you see it in their eyes,” says Ideas House creator and LEGO historian Kirsten Stadelhofer.
“We may grow up but LEGO is something that we always carry with us in our hearts.”
* This story was first published in BMI Voyager magazine in 2008.
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