Slackpacking - the slacker's way out?

Some travelers are in their element when roughing it, and indeed take pride in how rustic their travel conditions are. Whether it’s schlepping sans porter along the trails of Tibet or wearing the same clothes for the duration of a trek to Machu Picchu in the name of traveling light, hardy travellers base the success of their trip (and the inevitable post-holiday braai stories) on how much discomfort they endured. Others however, find it unnecessary to suffer on holiday, and while they enjoy hiking and would like to see the same sights as their smellier counterparts, would prefer to sleep on a mattress at night and eat meals consisting not entirely of bully beef. Herald the birth of slackpacking, a relatively recent trend designed to add comfort to your outdoor experience.

The term slackpacking originally referred to the hikers of the Appalachian Trail who attempted to complete the whole 3 440 kilometres as slowly and easily as possible. A 1994 issue of “Appalachian Trailway News” described slackpacking as an “attempt to backpack in a manner that is never trying, difficult, or tense, but in a slowly free-flowing way that drifts with whatever currents of interest, attraction, or stimulation are blowing at that moment” and that it also meant escaping from “our culture’s slavish devotion to efficiency” and banishing “the gnawing rat of goal-orientation” by relearning how to play.

Today however, it has loosely come to mean hiking without a large pack, and often with some level of comfort or luxury. As well as taking care of your luggage, many companies now offer top-class cuisine and luxurious accommodation after your day of walking, carrying only your camera, some water and perhaps a gourmet snack.

The pioneering slackpackers of the Appalachian Trail have apparently caused quite some consternation in the world of walking, with questions on various internet sites posing puzzlers such as “Is slackpacking morally wrong?” There are valid arguments on both sides of the question, with some people insisting that external support for walkers leads to ecologically damaging infrastructure to be established in remote areas. True hikers also believe that the more you carry and the more distant from ‘civilization’ you become, the closer to nature and more in tune with the wilderness you will be. Others believe that hikes should not be rushed or uncomfortable: part of the slackpacker philosophy is that hikers should wander where their curiosity takes them, not necessarily towards a single destination.

On the other side of the slackpacking coin and — and developed in its defense — is fastpacking (also called powerhiking). both fairly self-explanatory. These disciplines merge into trail running so that fastpackers (which so sounds like a dirty word) run along their trails as much as possible, taking as few breaks as are absolutely necessary.

Most people, even hardcore hikers, would admit that there is nothing wrong with eco-friendly, responsible slackpacking, and it can even impact the area around the trail beneficially by creating jobs, heightening awareness of a region and opening up areas of beauty to people who might not have been able to experience it. Companies such as Slackpacker SA help local businesses by utilizing regional hospitality. Especially in South Africa, a developing country which places much emphasis on tourism and community development, the trend is having a positive impact and going from strength to strength as it caters for both international tourists and South African holidaymakers excited to see more of their own country.

Visit the following sites for more information on slackpacking: www.slackpacker.com and www.slackpackersa.co.za.

A Taste of Canadian Class - Luxury in the Rockies

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www.thesoapbox.fm/2010/04/12/a-taste-of-canadian-class-fairmont-luxury-in-the-rockies/

The eyes of the world have recently been trained on Whistler, host of the skiing events in the Winter Olympics 2010. Just the other side of the mountain range, however, as it tips from British Columbia into Alberta, are the ski resort towns of Banff, Lake Louise and Jasper. The three areas are divided by the Icefields Parkway, debatably the most beautiful mountain pass in the world. Each of these small towns have no shortage of accommodation to suit every budget, and the finest five star luxury hotels in all of them happen to belong to the Fairmont Hotel Group. Styled according to appropriate mountainous themes, these hotels provide the best in ski slope luxury.

The Jasper Park Lodge is built in the style of a Canadian hunting cabin, the main structure gazing out to the turquoise Lac Beauvert (which becomes a festive ice-rink in winter months). Established in 1915, the lodge started life as a luxury tented camp and the building rose in the 1920s. Black and white photographs of Marilyn Monroe cozying up to costumed Mounties adorn the walls in the main dining room – she stayed at the lodge in 1927 while filming “River of No Return”. Other esteemed guests include King George VI, Queen Elizabeth II and an entirely different sort of royalty: Bing Crosby. After a devastating fire in the fifties, the current building was developed and since then more log cabins have been built along the lake shore. Costly boutiques, great restaurants and good service give visitors a taste of Canadian class, all year round.

Two hours drive away past the spectacular Athabasca Falls, glacier at Columbia Icefields and surreally azure Peyto Lake, the road veers off to Lake Louise. The town is tiny, and most of the action centres around the lake and the ski slopes. Famous for its colour when the sun shines, the lake becomes a teal-green turquoise with Fairmont’s Chateau Lake Louise the only accommodation set straight in front of its shores. In its current form, the creamy chateau has been in existence since 1911 and yet looks far more modern. What really shows the brand’s attention to detail; however, are the bizarre green uniforms that staff members are required to wear. The hotel is acclaimed for its restaurants and for serving the thousands of visitors who turn up at the lake every summer, hoping to see the elusive glimpse of colour, only visible when the sun peeks out from behind the clouds.

Now off the Icefields Parkway, the road from Lake Louise continues through Banff National Park until arriving at the town itself. A well-heeled student resort town whose organic bakeries, bustling bars and designer boutiques place it in the ice-cool category, Banff is the epitome of resort chic. The Fairmont Springs Hotel is set a touch away from the town – as if superiorly setting itself above it with its aura of old-money and class. The hotel’s theme is not hard to spot – the Scottish castle is true to life indeed, complete with wall-mounted tapestries, cavernous stone halls warmed by roaring wood fires and mazes of secret passages leading guests to tucked-away shops and bistros. The most formal of the three hotels, service was above reproach. The moody rainstorm pouring when we arrived set the scene perfectly, and we were more than happy to explore the hotels numerous passages. Built in 1888, the sense of solidity and history that the hotel seeps is authentic, so although luxurious the rooms are small. Eleven bars and restaurants meant that we were spoilt for choice and eventually settled for rustic fondue and Canadian reserve wine in the wood-paneled wine bar. A short taxi drive is convenient for visitors to experience some of Banff’s more vigorous night-life, and locals are a great source for recommendations.

Without these three strategically placed Fairmont spots, travelling though the Albertan Rockies would not be nearly as charming, comfortable or classy than it is. Whether one stops over at all three or merely visits for a meal, these hotels complement their majestic backdrop, becoming almost as much of an attraction as the mountains themselves.

Three Hours in Amsterdam

View this post at: http://www.thesoapbox.fm/2010/03/22/three-hours-in-amsterdam/

The free dictionary defines a layover as “A short stop or break in a journey, usually imposed by scheduling requirements”, but does not include the truism that it has become the curse of the modern traveler, as it can easily double the time of one’s journey.

A necessary evil to save money on flights, it is quite conceivable nowadays to fly half way around the world in the opposite direction to one’s destination before heading back the right way.

However, if one is lucky, layovers might not involve booking into an extortionately expensive airport hotel for the night or camping underneath a smelly metal chair outside your gate but rather a quick browse through duty free, followed by free champers in a plush airport lounge. Leaving Cape Town for New York, this is what my husband and I had in mind for our three-hour layover in Schiphol Airport. As we descended into the Netherlands we started chatting to the Dutch lady besides us, who recommend we get out of the airport and see the city, assuring us that we had more than enough time to jump on a train to downtown Amsterdam and explore.

This sounded a little risky to us, as we certainly could not afford to miss our connection, so we smiled and nodded politely — both wishing we really could see the city. She was very persuasive. Refusing to let us remain content with our browse/drink plan, she ushered us out through customs (having no bags makes this so easy), helped us to buy a train ticket (we had to try four machines and eventually used her credit card at her generous insistence) and pointed us in the direction of the right platform (it was not the correct platform, and we took twenty minutes to ascertain which one we should be on – our eyes big with fear at jumping onto a train and heading into Belgium).



The train ride was clean, efficient and ever so boring, the scenery industrial and the stations generic. Only until we pulled in to Amsterdam proper, however. Old buildings loomed imposingly over cobbled streets and bicycles were everywhere, some parked in stacks and some moving in frantic motion. We narrowly dodged them, as well as the cars, trams and buses as we walked around the main square and up the narrow streets. These, even at eight in the morning, were festively decorated with rainbow-colored flags, sidewalk café and coffee houses from whence people and music from all around the world poured out.

We finally settled on a café and attempted to order breakfast and coffees while we sat there quietly and tried to take in all that was happening around us. Funnily shaped vehicles appeared between bike riders of all ages — some towing carts as wide as a car, some transporting their children or pets while wearing high heels, floral dresses and absolutely no helmets. Getting food from our waitress and then eventually finding her to pay was painful, but we managed and strolled back to the station, hoping that the return trip would not take as long as the outbound one. We frantically checked the time as we waited and waited for the train to move. Finally it did, and we were in due course deposited back at Schiphol.

Luckily for us it is a well signposted airport, so we could literally run helter-skelter to our gate, hoping all the time that boarding was still open; ears pricked for announcements of our names. We joined the queue in the nick of time, sweaty and panting – attracting loads of weird looks from our fellow passengers.

Despite the excruciatingly close shave, we were thrilled that we had seen a little bit of this fascinating city and even managed to eat dinner in Cape Town, breakfast in Amsterdam and afternoon tea in New York with no airport meals included. All thanks to our convincing and charitable Dutch friend at whose insistence we explored her city!