Latest news with #slowtravel
Telegraph
2 days ago
- Telegraph
I took my entire family on a canal boat holiday – and found the antidote to our hurried age
Ever since travel started speeding up, we've been trying to slow it down. It's usually a losing battle. Remember the 19th-century law that decreed motorists must drive no faster than 2mph and employ someone to walk in front waving a red warning flag? No? That's because it was doomed to failure. Cyclists, once the pin-ups of slow travel, are now vacuum-packed in Lycra to shave off every second. Take time to breathe, we're told, as we huff and puff back to the hotel for dinner; notice the little things, we're advised, as they pass in a blur outside the window of the train. Slow travel is all the rage, but so often it's not that slow. Fortunately, one mode of travel is as lazy as it's ever been: the canal boat. Sixty years ago, the Locomotives Act placed a 4mph speed limit on Britain's waterways and the rule remains unchanged. And the canal boat's slow credentials go beyond its dawdling pace. This is transport that comes with its own bed and breakfast, a snail-shell for the family in which there are no departure deadlines to meet or reservations to make. Truly, a canal boat holiday is the undisputed champion of slow travel breaks. That's what drew me back: the chance to put a drag on life's momentum for a few days. It wasn't only about the dawdling pace. There's something soothing in the tidy canal route maps, a mental freedom in the sheer limited choice of direction. Just follow the water. It promises gentle passage from rolling countryside to brick-chimney landscapes that immortalise a golden age of industry. A canal's very geometry lowers my pulse: the arc of its little bridges, the interlocking teeth of the cogs in the lock mechanisms, the horizontal timbers that lever the gates. And so, with life rushing by, I booked a week-long family trip to Worcester on the Worcester and Birmingham Canal. In truth, a canal doesn't bring entirely uninterrupted calm. It had been 30 years since I last went canal-boating and now, as I thumped the bow against the side of Astwood Top Lock, and howls rose from the galley as cans cartwheeled from shelves and red wine sloshed on the floor, it all came flooding back. That narrowboat break of 1994 has gone down in Phillips family folklore. Remember when the dog went overboard and dad fell in trying to pull him out, we'll say to each other at Christmas. Or the 'Titanic' incident, when my brother caught the rudder at the back of an emptying lock until the rudder ripped off and the stern came crashing down. All of which added up to one of the best family holidays ever, one we often swore to repeat. And here we were at last, mum mopping wine from the floor as we headed out from Stoke Prior. Same canal, same mopping, same season: springtime, the birds pairing up and buds adding flesh to the bony trees. There were some differences. Three decades on, that grey-haired man working the windlass to lift the paddles to drain the lock wasn't my father. We'd faced some choppy water when my parents divorced, but Colin had come along, and the way became smooth again. He's Grandpa Colin now; those nine-year-old twins were mine, lined up beside him to push open the gates, puff-cheeked with earnest endeavour. Yes, a big difference: this time I was father as well as son, with more life behind than ahead. A tight parade of tatty industrial buildings gave way to banks of rushes and hawthorns frothing white with early blossom. Six locks came in quick succession, testing our processes, but we fell into roles without debate. Grandpa Colin and Monika, my wife, were the gatekeepers, jumping off and on with windlasses in hand to bookend our passage through each lock. Mum despatched a steady supply of coffee and muffins from the galley, while deckhands Matty and Kitty clambered about on the roof and offered a running commentary on the mistakes made by the helmsman at the back. I was that helmsman, tight-browed with the burden of responsibility. So much for relaxation. Stretching ahead was a craft measuring 70ft – the length of two-and-a-half London buses, the kids informed me with a certain sadistic relish. There were three bedrooms, two toilets, a shower, a galley and dining area, four adults, the twins and two dogs, all to be threaded through narrow locks and nosed around blind bends. It was a beautiful boat too, dark blue and glossy, with red handrails running along the top and its name painted with a dainty flourish on the side: Eden. Not a scuff mark to be seen. Sorry, Eden. But the canal's balm soon settled my nerves. Olive-green water slipped beneath the banks, pirouetting around protruding stumps, toying lazily with a twig and a feather. I took pleasure in the robust functionality of this man-made waterway, iron and wood and brick working in harmony since the year Wellington won Waterloo. It seemed to slot into its landscape, like nature with neatened edges. We spent much of three days meandering the 11 miles down to Worcester. There would have been rather more urgency in the 19th century, when working men managed heavy horses to pull barges piled with salt from the works at Stoke Prior and chocolate from the Cadbury factory at Bournville. It must have taken some choreography, particularly when barges had to pass one another, horses rubbing shoulder to shoulder and towlines manoeuvred over or under the hulls in a three-way tango between man, boat and beast. Today you'll see a purposeful jogger panting up the towpath, perhaps, or a kayaker racing the clock, but otherwise the canal is a place of easy journeying and parallel existences. At Hanbury Junction, we chugged through a corridor of narrowboats moored bow to stern, some scruffy and others immaculately kept, but all permanent homes. Smoke curled from the chimneys of boats called Adventure Before Dementia, Seize the Day and Bob Along, the mission statements of people who had untethered from a hurrying world. We kept left at the junction and carried on, through the dripping darkness of Dunhampstead Tunnel and out into air full of barnyard smells. On the right was a cameo of idyllic yesteryear, with a foreground of skittish lambs and behind it a medieval church bowing with age. At Tibberton, we moored for the night outside The Bridge pub and rewarded ourselves with a beef carvery dinner and pints of Butty Bach. We became a pretty well-oiled outfit as we navigated locks with names straight from a Dickens novel: into Blackpole Lock and barely a nudge or scrape; through Bilford Bottom, slick as a bar of soap. Then warehouses started to appear, and a string of canal-side back gardens containing beach huts, hammocks and self-built outdoor bars. The bells of Worcester Cathedral were ringing as we tied up outside Sidbury Lock. We visited the Museum of Royal Worcester, tried and failed to crack the escape room at the Commandery, ate upmarket burgers for lunch (kids' choice) and Japanese food for dinner (our choice). And then we began the slow chug back the way we'd come. It was just a few weeks later that Grandpa Colin had his stroke. The choppiest of waters. But the way will become smooth again, and when his right arm is strong enough to wield a windlass, we'll book another narrowboat trip because 30 years is too long to wait to measure out some days in locks and bridges, cups of tea and games of cards. Seize the Day, Bob Along – the boat people have it right. It's good for the soul to float a little freer. Essentials Adrian Phillips was a guest of Black Prince Holidays (01527 575115) which has nine bases across the UK, offering modern narrowboats for two to 10 people (including pet-friendly boats). Choose from short breaks, seven- and 14-night holidays; coaching and route advice is provided before guests leave the base.
BBC News
5 days ago
- BBC News
Taiwan's epic train ride through 50 tunnels and 77 bridges
The historic Alishan Forest Railway, once crippled by typhoons and earthquakes, is running again – and helping revive mountain villages, celebrate Indigenous heritage and redefine slow travel in Taiwan. A fun fact: it's not just cities that have twin destinations; heritage railways do, too. I learn this while riding south-western Taiwan's recently restored Alishan Forest Railway, which reopened in 2024 as a tourist train, 118 years after steam locomotives first hauled timber along its tracks. One of the most passionate advocates for its restoration is Michael Reilly, the former British Representative to Taiwan. He's also company secretary for Wales' Welshpool and Llanfair Light Railway and the reason why, in 2022, the Alishan Forest's Railway became its twin. The union was cemented by the presentation of a diesel engine, once used in Alishan, now ferrying holidaymakers through the rolling hills of Powys, Wales. With international visitor numbers to Taiwan booming and new routes – including flights from Emirates, timed specifically to suit Taiwan-bound travellers from the UK – It's not hard to see why the Taiwan Railway Administration was so supportive of the endeavour. It's an opportunity to show off the island's less-explored regions, showing visitors that there's more to Taiwan than Taipei's sky-scraping Taipei 101 tower and famous night markets. But this railway is more than just a tourist train – it provides an insight into Taiwan's history, starting with its colonisation by Japan. It was 1900, five years into Japan's colonial rule of Taiwan, when Japanese railway technician Iida Toyoji surveyed a mountain route to carry Alishan's prized timber from forested peaks to the country's ports. The first sections were completed by 1907, and the first engines were Shay locomotives – American powerhouses capable of dragging tonnes of timber along the endless switchbacks and spirals. One of them earned a Guinness World Record for travelling the "world's longest railway spiral". The start and end of the Dulishan Spiral are only 570m apart, but an elevation difference of 233m means trains traveling on this stretch must negotiate 5km of twisting track to cover what would be a 570m straight-line distance. Other feats of engineering include numerous bridges that span Alishan's forested valleys and meandering tunnels dug though mountains shaped by landslides. At times, I find myself staring down at sections of track I passed moments before, losing the ability to keep count of the dizzying number of switchbacks, and every so often I glimpse the remnants of a small landside or a fallen cypress – a reminder of the challenges faced by railway engineers toiling away in a region where earthquakes are an almost monthly occurrence. In 1908, the Japanese company funding the railway suspended construction, citing financial problems, and the Government-General of Taiwan stepped in. By 1912 Shay steam locomotives were puffing along the twisting tracks once more. Passenger services started in 1920, but timber was still the main cargo and the trains ground to a halt in the 1960s as demand for wood declined. A huge fire in 1976 and the Jiji earthquake in 1999 disrupted the few passenger services still running, but the final nail in the coffin was the devastation wreaked by Typhoon Morakot in 2009, which suspended all services. Yet calls to restore the full 71km route from Chiayi, where those first steam trains puffed out of the station in 1907, to Alishan Station, 2,216m above sea level, never ceased. The railway had become a lifeline for Indigenous communities along the route, connecting them with schools, doctors and markets. Tourists, too, kept coming to ride the few still-operational sections. In 2013, with support from the Taiwan Railway Administration and the Forestry Bureau, limited operations resumed. In 2019, Taiwan's Ministry of Culture, keen to expand its tourist offerings, announced the creation of the Alishan Forestry and Railway Cultural Landscape. Restoration work continued, and in early 2024 the route reopened in its entirety. On 29 April, the first passenger train returned to the tracks. As I rumble through Alishan's cedar-scented forests, it's easy to see why the original engineers struggled. This alpine obstacle course features 50 bridges and 77 tunnels. Occasionally, on some of the steeper sections, I hear a shrill alarm from the train's cab – a warning that the wheels have slipped slightly. Large machines can't access much of the remote track, so railway sleepers were laid by hand. At one point, we swerve into a recently constructed tunnel; to its left is the dark, cavernous entrance of the old one, now perilously close to the rapidly eroding cliff face. One of the first stops is Lumachan, once a tobacco production hub, now ringed by rice paddies. When the railway fell into disrepair, the station and the nearby tobacco warehouses did too. But with services restored, the area has revived. The shiny new station, with its ornate tiled roof, is now the disembarkation point for passengers visiting the nearby Tobacco Cultural Park, where they can peek inside former tobacco warehouses. Further along is Fenqihu, which sprang up around its namesake train station. As one of the railway's larger stops, it had its own army of workers. "Fenqihu Station was a lot busier in the past," says villager Li Mao-Song, whose grandfather worked as a coal carrier. But the railway's rebirth is helping bring life back to the village. In a locomotive shed at one end of the platform I find a restored steam engine and an artefact-filled exhibition about the railway's history. An hour-long pause here allows passengers time to stretch their legs, and it's also a popular stop for walkers who come to hike the trails that weave through Alishan's forests. I'm waylaid, however, by the scents wafting from nearby food stalls. I opt for a bento box of turkey rice topped with soy sauce and daikon. It's a local delicacy once beloved by the train drivers and lumberjacks who'd stop here to rest and refuel, and now by tourists, who flock to the tiny restaurants and street food stalls surrounding the station. Back onboard, golden sunlight seeps through swathes of bamboo (grown and harvested by Alishan's Indigenous Tsou tribe), complete with a soundtrack of timber-tapping woodpeckers. More than half Taiwan's firefly species can be found here, and giant flying squirrels are regularly spotted. I'm admittedly disappointed that I fail to see a deer, who live here in huge numbers (Lumachan station's name is derived from the word luman, meaning "full of deer"). At each station, the conductor leans out the door and passes a token on a loop of rope to a stationmaster, who passes a different one back. The exchange is a nod to the railway's earliest days, when movement along the tracks was strictly controlled and trains could only progress onto the next section once conductors were in possession of the correct token. It's a ritual clearly cherished by railway employees. These employees would have been almost entirely male when the first steam engines hauled their cargo through Alishan's forests. More than a century later, the rail staff is decidedly more mixed. "Many people think railway workers will be male," says Lo Yu-Ting, who helps manage operational routes and was previously stationmaster at the railway's Zhushan Station, Taiwan's highest station. "But when I joined, I was so happy to find so many skilled women in different roles." More like this:• The return of Mexico's famous Tequila Express train• Scotland's most remote railway adventure• A 58-tunnel slow train through India's Eastern Ghats Lo believes the emphasis on teamwork plays a major role. "As a station master, I faced many challenges – managing trains and staff and dealing with natural disasters, which can be tough. But there's great support for employees. This allows me to take care of my two daughters while working." I meet Lo in Chiayi, the line's starting point. On the adjacent platform, Taiwan's high-speed trains flash past in a blur. In contrast, Alishan Forest Railway's red diesel engine roars to life, ready to haul its restored cedar-clad carriages skywards. Chiayi is a city shaped by cedar and cypress. In the early 1900s, many railway workers lived at nearby Hinoki Village, where their former cypress-wood homes have been lovingly preserved. It's now a magnet for tourists who come to slurp bubble tea in old drivers' houses or to snap up vases made from bamboo. Outside one of the squat wooden cottages stands the railway's mascot: a fibreglass deer sporting a baseball cap bearing the line's logo. At first the deer seems an unusual choice – I didn't spot a single one on during my time in Alishan. But deer have long symbolised longevity in Taiwan, and their cedar-coloured fur mirrors the forests this line winds through. Perhaps this cheerful cap-wearing ruminant is the perfect emblem for a railway that refuses to fade away. -- For more Travel stories from the BBC, follow us on Facebook, X and Instagram.
The Independent
02-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Independent
What's the secret to a truly stress-free holiday?
High-end cruising has entered a new era. Today's luxury travellers aren't looking for big flashy experiences. They want slow-paced, intimate travel and authentic cultural immersion. More than anything else, they're looking for ease: that feeling of being genuinely cared for, safe in the knowledge that they're experiencing the best of the best. That means excellent quality food and drink, of course – it's got to be restaurant standard and cater to all tastes – but also onboard enrichment experiences of the highest calibre. The great beauty of cruising has always been that not a second is wasted. Savvy travellers get to explore a rich and rewarding variety of exotic, off-the-beaten track locations, but instead of spending half their holiday stuck in motorway traffic, they're honing their swing in the golf net, or sipping on a cocktail on the upper deck as they travel from destination to destination. When they're onshore they want genuinely immersive experiences that get them under the hood of a destination: think cellar tours of local vineyards or speedboat cruises to hidden beaches. Done right, a high-end all-inclusive cruise is the ideal form of slow travel, offering a perfect balance of adventure and indulgence, proper pampering and a thrilling sense of discovery. The world's most luxurious fleet First among equals when it comes to the new era of luxury cruising is Regent Seven Seas Cruises, which offers more than 170 different itineraries visiting over 550 ports of call worldwide. Each of the six ships in their fleet is opulently appointed with beautifully designed communal areas and a huge array of amenities, but none of them has a capacity of more than 746 guests, ensuring space and freedom for all aboard. The all-suite accommodation means that the private spaces are similarly roomy, each having a private balcony and marble bathroom. And service is always impeccable with a crew-to-guest ratio that's nearly one-to-one, meaning that the team can always go that mile extra for all travellers. Across the ships, the food is uniformly excellent. As well as Regent's signature Compass Rose restaurant, with its daily changing menu of bistro classics like lobster bisque and New Zealand lamb chops, the different ships also feature a range of speciality dining venues. These include Prime 7, a New York-style steakhouse, Pacific Rim with its pan-Asian menu (be sure to try the miso black cod), and fine-dining destination, Chartreuse, where the chefs turn out sophisticated plates of upscale French cooking like Beef Tenderloin Rossini and Seared Foie Gras. With a number of long cruises on their roster, Regent has made sure that each of its ships is akin to an ultra-luxury, boutique floating hotel with an incredible variety of things to do during the day and top-level entertainment at night. There are courts for paddle tennis and bocce, and the onboard spa offers a range of exclusive bespoke treatments. The ships host talks by experts in their field and cooking lessons are also available on some of the ships at the culinary arts kitchens where visiting chefs guide guests in how to make wow-factor dishes that relate to the ports of call. In the evening, the Constellation Theatre hosts lavishly staged productions from a team of Broadway choreographers and artists. Destinations that match the onboard luxury Of course, none of this onboard luxury would mean much if the destinations weren't up to scratch, but Regent's superbly curated itineraries are up there with the very best. Its week-long trips include culture-packed European tours like Glories of Iberia which sails from Barcelona to Lisbon, and thrilling frontier explorations such as the Great Alaskan Adventur e from Whittier to Vancouver. Longer trips include four-week Legendary Journeys from Athens to Montreal, and fully immersive explorations of the Arctic. Long or short, these itineraries are all underpinned by a commitment to taking guests right to the heart of a destination with the kind of bespoke onshore activities and expert-led insights that mean on a Regent Seven Seas Cruises voyage, adventure is guaranteed.
Travel Daily News
27-05-2025
- Business
- Travel Daily News
Living as a digital nomad in Surat Thani: A hidden gem for remote workers
Surat Thani won't shout 'digital nomad hotspot' at first sight, but that's precisely why it's so great. It calls for slow living, deep work, and genuine cultural exchange. When digital nomads consider destinations in Thailand, Chiang Mai, Bangkok, and the islands of Koh Phangan or Koh Samui are usually the first to come to mind. However, located in southern Thailand, away from the crowds and mayhem, is Surat Thani—a hidden gem for remote workers who desire a mix of productivity, affordability, and genuine local culture. While commonly regarded as a stopping point for tourists traveling to the Gulf islands, Surat Thani has far more to offer than meets the eye. Friendly locals, an affordable cost of living, dependable infrastructure, and close proximity to breathtaking natural wonders make Surat Thani increasingly a best-kept secret for digital nomads. For those who are starting out from the capital, the Bangkok to Surat Thani train journey not only serves convenience but also as a scenic route—offering a seamless transition from urban city life to a laid-back, nature-dense environment. Why Surat Thani Is a Draw for Remote Workers True Thai Lifestyle Unlike tourist-populated towns, Surat Thani offers a truer Thai experience. The city is not flooded with expats, so encounters with locals are more authentic, prices are not jacked up, and cultural immersion is much richer. Whether walking through the lively Talad Mai Market, sampling just-made roti on the street, or speaking Thai with your barista, the everyday moments here feel pleasantly authentic. Affordability Without Sacrificing Comfort Relative to Thailand's more established nomad hotspots, Surat Thani provides a much lower cost of living. Cozy apartments are available for rent for pennies compared to Bangkok or Chiang Mai. Dining out from local eateries costs between 40-70 THB, and coworking centers or cafés with reliable Wi-Fi are readily available and inexpensive. With this affordable setup, remote workers are free to stay longer or spend more as they explore Thailand. Natural Escapes in Every Direction Despite being a working base, Surat Thani is surrounded by breathtaking nature. On weekends or work breaks, you're a short drive away from the Ratchaprapha Dam in Khao Sok National Park—a place often compared to Vietnam's Ha Long Bay. Nearby waterfalls, caves, and jungle hikes offer tranquil retreats from your screen. To mention but a few, the city is the prime mainland gateway to islands such as Koh Samui, Koh Phangan, and Koh Tao, all of which are accessible by ferry within hours. Digital Infrastructure & Work-Friendly Places Accommodation with Work Facilities There are a few monthly renting possibilities with good Wi-Fi, air con, and peaceful environments. Hostels and serviced apartments have long-stay deals, and increasingly, Airbnb listings are designed for digital nomads who want comfort and functionality. Coworking & Work Cafés While Surat Thani doesn't yet have a coworking scene as vibrant as Chiang Mai's, it makes up for it with cozy, laptop-friendly cafés that offer free Wi-Fi, air conditioning, and ample plug sockets. Notable spots include: Chillin' Café – A modern café with comfortable seating and quality coffee. Gong Dee Café – A cozy, work-friendly environment close to the city center. Café de Balcony – Perfect for early risers, with a serene atmosphere ideal for concentrated work. Digital nomads also enjoy decent mobile internet speeds with AIS, DTAC, and TrueMove—meaning hot-spotting over mobile networks is a good backup option when necessary. Community and Connection Surat Thani does not have huge meet-up groups or expat communities, but that is its beauty. There are smaller, more intimate groups of travelers and remote workers—especially in Facebook groups, coworking cafés, and weekend island trips. If you're missing the socialization, a quick trip to Koh Phangan or Samui for a couple of days is simple and well worth it. You get both worlds: peaceful, concentrated time in Surat Thani, followed by contact and networking time on the nearby islands. Visa and Legal Issues for Digital Nomads As with other places in Thailand, most digital nomads in Surat Thani are on a tourist visa or visa exemption. For extended periods, however, you can consider the following: Thai Education Visa (ED visa) – Eligible if you study Thai. Thailand Long-Term Resident (LTR) Visa – This is for more affluent remote workers who qualify by income and work requirements. Digital Nomad Visa (forthcoming) – Thailand is exploring digital nomad-specific visas, so keep an eye out through the Thai embassy or immigration website. Always check that you're working lawfully and report your presence, if necessary, at immigration centers, particularly if you're changing residence quite often. Final Thoughts: Experience Surat Thani's Unobtrusive Magic Surat Thani won't shout 'digital nomad hotspot' at first sight, but that's precisely why it's so great. It calls for slow living, deep work, and genuine cultural exchange. For those frazzled by overstimulated cities or out-of-budget beach towns, Surat Thani provides a grounded alternative that sacrifices nothing in beauty or functionality. No matter whether you're staying for a month or settling in for longer, this southern Thai city might be just the new beginning your remote life requires—a place where you can wake to birdsong, sip coffee along the river, and log in to work with a smile.
Malay Mail
26-05-2025
- Malay Mail
Where tourists go to slow down: Tokyo tops list, KL ranks eighth in Asia
KUALA LUMPUR, May 26 — Malaysia's capital city has joined Asia's top ten slow travel destinations, based on Agoda data that also reveals where Malaysians prefer to linger overseas. It ranked eighth in Agoda's list, which highlights cities where travellers book longer stays to enjoy a more relaxed pace. In Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur and Langkawi came in first and second respectively for slow travel, followed by Johor Bahru in third. Perhentian Islands, which topped the local list last year, has dropped out of the top three. 'As life moves faster, more travelers are embracing the idea of slowing down to truly experience a place rather than just pass through it,' said Fabian Teja, country director for Malaysia and Brunei at Agoda. 'Malaysia's diverse destinations, with its rich heritage and cultural offerings, make the perfect backdrop for unhurried exploration.' Malaysians heading abroad for a slower holiday spend the most time in Tokyo, the company revealed. Other international destinations preferred by slow travellers include Rayong, Kalegowa, Seoul, Taipei and Chennai. These places offer experiences that reward a longer stay, from beachside retreats to cultural walks and food adventures. In Kuala Lumpur, travellers take time exploring vibrant districts like Little India and Chinatown, enjoying the mix of old and new. The city's food scene and architecture make it a natural fit for travellers who want to go slow and savour each moment.
