Open Skies | October 2011

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29

EDITOR’S LETTER

legendary actor, Errol. He had a Hollywood career laid out

before him, but became a war photographer instead and

disappeared in communist-held Cambodia while chasing a story. His friend

and room mate in Vietnam, Perry Deane Young, tells us his story. We also

feature two cities that are off the beaten track, for very different reasons,

but are beautiful in their own way. Sana’a is a city unlike any other, and Tim

Macintosh-Smith explains why the Yemeni capital is so magical. Another

place that defies categorisation is Pyongyang, the otherworldly North

Korean capital. Charlie Crane’s stunning photography captures a place

frozen in time. Enjoy the issue.

Adventure means different things to different

people. To some, it means abseiling, bungee

jumping, snowboarding or white-water rafting.

I find that a rather dull definition of what adventure is;

for me it means something that combines dislocation

(geographic, not physical), a small element of danger and

preferably some stunning scenery. This has resulted in

me hiking in Afghanistan and northern Iraq, trekking

through Ethiopia, diving off the coast of Djibouti and

meeting militants in Lebanon, the West Bank and the

Philippines. Adventure can also mean doing the unexpected, such as when a fortysomething fashion maven decides to tackle the Hindu Kush, one of the wildest mountain ranges in the world. The typographic cover, designed so brilliantly by Mitch Blunt, is another attempt at doing the unexpected. Someone else who marched to his own beat was Sean Flynn, son of the

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Printed by Emirates Printing Press, Dubai, UAE

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Obaid Humaid Al Tayer GROUP EDITOR & MANAGING PARTNER Ian Fairservice GROUP SENIOR EDITOR Gina SENIOR EDITOR EDITOR

ae ART DIRECTOR JUNIOR DESIGNER CHIEF SUB EDITOR STAFF WRITER CONTRIBUTING WRITER EDITORIAL ASSISTANT

Londressa Flores SENIOR PRODUCTION MANAGER S Sunil Kumar PRODUCTION MANAGER C Sudhakar GENERAL MANAGER, GROUP SALES BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT MANAGER

SENIOR ADVERTISEMENT MANAGER DEPUTY ADVERTISEMENT MANAGER Murali Narayanan ADVERTISEMENT MANAGER EDITORIAL CONSULTANTS FOR EMIRATES:

CONTRIBUTORS:

Axis Maps, COVER ILLUSTRATION MASTHEAD DESIGN

84,649COPIES

31

CONTENTS

OCTOBER 2011

OUR MAN IN CHITTAGONG REPORTS ON THE CITY’S SHIP BREAKERS

(P37)... WE SHOWCASE SOUTH-EAST ASIA’S DIVERSE DIVING SITES

(P41)... WE GET THE SCOOP ON EVELYN WAUGH’S CLASSIC YARN (P43)...

COPENHAGEN GETS THE MAPPED TREATMENT AS WE DISCOVER ONE

OF THE COOLEST CITIES IN EUROPE (P44)... THE ADVENTURE MOVIE

GENRE HAS HAD A SOMEWHAT CHEQUERED PAST (P48)... WE GO

SEARCHING FOR STYLISTAS ON THE STREETS OF SAN FRANCISCO

(P58)... DUBAI HAS A NEW CULTURAL HUB. WE INVESTIGATE THE

SHELTER, THE UAE’S NEWEST HOT SPOT (P62)... NURISTAN IS ONE

OF THE WILDEST PLACES ON THE PLANET. ERIC NEWBY’S HILARIOUS

ACCOUNT OF HIS TRIP THERE IS A TRAVEL WRITING CLASSIC (P70)...

A SNAKE, SOME DJINNS AND A CITY OF MAGIC. TIM MACINTOSH-SMITH

TELLS US A SANA’A TALE (P80)... WE LOOK AT THE LIFE AND

DISAPPEARANCE OF ERROL FLYNN’S SON, SEAN (P88)... A

PHOTOGRAPHIC JOURNEY THROUGH NORTH KOREA’S SURREAL

CAPITAL REVEALS SOME OF THE PEOPLE WHO LIVE THERE (P96)...

LEBANON - Girard-Perregaux Boutique Down Town Beirut SouksKUWAIT - Ghadah Jewellery | KSA - Mouawad Al-Tijariah | OMAN - Khimji Ramdas

QATAR - Al-Fardan Jewellery | UAE - Al-Fardan, Damaswww.girard-perregaux.com

GIRARD-PERREGAUX Full Calendar

White gold case, sapphire case back,

Girard-Perregaux automatic mechanical movement.

Full calendar with date, day of the week,

month and moon phase indicators.

33

CONTRIBUTORS

MITCH BLUNT: Mitch is an English illustrator who has worked with clients including The Atlantic Monthly, Breo Watches, Google and Wired. Mitch is planning on moving to Seoul next year to mix things up and push the idea of working as a freelance illustrator to the limit.

DAYNA EVANS: Dayna lives in Chittagong, Bangladesh, and has written for a variety of websites, including the Sundance Channel. She has a degree in creative writing from NYU and is currently on a 10-month Asian trip.

TIM MACINTOSH-SMITH: Tim has lived in the Yemeni capital, Sana’a, for the best part of three decades. He is the author of the prize-winning Yemen: Travels In Dictionary Land, and a trilogy of travel books following Moroccan globetrotter Ibn Battuta.

PERRY DEANE YOUNG: Perry was friends with Sean Flynn, who went missing during the Vietnam War. His account of Flynn’s time in Vietnam, Two Of The Missing, perfectly captured the madness of the time. He is also a playwright and historian.

CHARLIE CRANE: Based in London, Charlie has won numerous awards for his photography and has also directed a number of TV commercials. He has won a Bronze Award at the British Television And Advertising Awards.

35

CANADA

CONNECTEDWE DISCOVER ONE OF

THE COUNTRY’S MOST

SPECTACULAR WALKWAYS

P60

INTRO P. Asian diving P. Dubai’s new hub P. 64 Istanbul booty

37

OUR MAN IN

Nine men, all wearing dirty button-down shirts, are pulling a

metal rope aggressively while chanting a Bangla “heave-ho!” The rope slackens and tightens when the men throw their bodies backward in an attempt to get leverage on the metal ship part they’re pulling toward the shore.

The part is 10 times their size. It’s rusted, decrepit, and its prior purpose is hard to identify, but they pull it anyway. This giant ship part is going to make somebody a great deal of money.

The ship breaking yards of Chittagong span the Bay of Bengal’s shores and are home to hundreds of ships, thousands of men, and millions — sometimes hundreds of millions — of dollars in gain. The 8,000-tonne German ship that is being dismantled piece by piece was purchased by the yard’s manager and investors for $40 million. Its metal parts will be broken down, thrown into a furnace, and melted into highly profitable steel rods, while everything else – from the ship’s toilets to its bedspreads – will be

sold in market stands on the road out of the yards. The economy of this bayside city thrives off the ship breaking industry and employment has steadily been on the rise since many of the yards opened, this one in 1986.

While it is understood that all quick-money industries inevitably have a dark side, the ship breaking industry has many.While I watched men scale 50-foot hollowed-out ships barefoot and shirtless, a yard manager explained how his yard is run.

The workers – none of them are younger than 18 – work eight-hour shifts, and they get paid a dollar a day. He says it with a straight face, yet I find it all so hard to believe. While I walk around taking pictures, adolescent faces smile back at me and their elder companions look worn and tired. The life of a ship breaker – dismantling enormous ships with only a blowtorch and rudimentary tools – is not glamorous or lucrative.

A man fell to his death from the top of a 60-foot ocean liner in mid-August and is only one

of at least 50 who will die from the profession this year. But as the yard manager says, “ship breaking is creating jobs”.

What it is also creating, however, is an influx of environmental issues. When the ships come into port to be disassembled, they do so at full speed, crashing toward shore and leaving toxic waste behind them.

In order to be approved for dismantling, the authorities have to check for hazardous materials first. However, corruption is rampant; the yard manager said no ship had ever been denied.

Hazardous chemicals are left to poison the waters, while managers and investors pull in profit. All around, there are men using blowtorches without masks, operating machinery without gloves, and trudging through sand and muck that is littered with rusted slabs of scrap metal. I ask this yard’s manager if purported new health and safety regulations will help. “The workers have little money, little health. We are changing this so they can have good futures.”

BANGLADESH’S SHIP GRAVEYARDS ARE PROFITABLE, BUT DANGEROUS, ENTERPRISES

Dayna Evans is an American writer based in Bangladesh.

CHITTAGONG

38

INFORMATION ELEGANCE

GRAPH

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41

TWITTER PITCH

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phuket diving

Every month we profile a number of venues in a different city, country or

continent. The catch? The companies must be on Twitter and must tell us in

their own words what makes them so special. This month, we feature South

East Asia’s best diving spots. If you want to get involved, follow us at:

www.twitter.com/openskiesmag

SOUTH-EAST ASIAN

DIVING

43

BOOKED

EVELYN WAUGH – SCOOP

This is Evelyn Waugh

at his playful best; a

comic novel of exquisite

proportions set in the fictional

African state of Ishmaelia, where

the protagonist, William Boot, is

sent to cover a war. Boot, a timid

22-year-old nature columnist

with no journalism training, has

been mistaken for a novelist of

the same name. No matter, for he

gets the ‘scoop’ the book is named

after, despite arriving in Africa

with no ideas and “a quarter of a

ton of luggage”. The book is based

on Waugh’s own experience

covering Mussolini’s invasion of

Abyssinia for The Daily Mail. His

view of the newspaper business

is not hard to decipher: cowering

hacks placating press barons,

lying, inebriated reporters and

above all, the need for ‘news’, no

matter whether it be fictional or

real. The name of Boot’s paper

says it all: The Daily Beast.

These themes have been covered

countless times before and since,

but never with such deft handling.

Waugh throttles his subjects with

a velvet glove, which makes up for

the (at times) slow pacing of the

book. A master at work. Secker & Warburg, 1958

FRANKFURTER HOF FRANKFURT, GERMANY

356

There are very few hotels with

the history of the Frankfurter. Set in

the heart of a very modern German

city, its iconic entrance dominating

the Kaiserplatz Square, the property

combines old world (huge rooms

and corridors) with the new (Wi-Fi

and a business centre). Downstairs

the Restaurant Français (replete

with one Michelin Star) edges out

onto the street, its famous red

canopies a Frankfurt landmark. The

service is, as to be expected,

excellent; the rooms are what you

would expect from a turn of the

century hotel: lush carpets, antique

light fixtures and teak desks. The

property was a makeshift hospital

during the Second World War, and

the sense of history is everywhere. It

may not be the city’s hippest hotel,

but it’s certainly the grandest.

INTERNET SPEED: 2MB, $20 per day

PILLOWS: Four

IPOD DOCK: Yes

CLUB SANDWICH DELIVERY TIME: 22 minutes

COMPLIMENTARY SNACKS: Tea &

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TOILETRY BRAND: Bulgari

DAILY NEWSPAPER: None

EXTRAS: CD/DVD player, TV in

bathroom, walk-in wardrobe

BUSINESS CENTRE: Yes

VIEW: 3/5

RATE: From $250

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ROOM

44

COPENHAGEN

MAPPED

Denmark packs both substance and style into its

rather compact capital, Copenhagen. Made up

of centuries-old architecture juxtaposed against

sleek new builds, fashionable foreigners love it

as much as locals for its fine-dining restaurants,

design stores and everything in between. Nick

Clarke highlights this autumn’s must-see sights.

WWW.HG2.COM

HOTELS1. Nimb 2. The Royal Hotel 3. D’angleterre 4. Avenue Hotel

RESTAURANTS5. NOMA 6. Fiskebaren 7. Umami 8. MASH

45

BARS / CLUBS9. Ruby 10. Simon’s Nightclub 11. Jolene 12. Vega Natklub

GALLERIES13. The Danish Natl. Gallery 14. V1 Gallery 15. Frihedsmuseet 16. Galleri Bo Bjerggaard

46

COPENHAGEN

MAPPED

HOTELS

4 AVENUE HOTELFound in leafy Frederiksberg, it’s housed inside a 19th-century townhouse with 68 rooms. There’s no restaurant,but there’s a breakfast room, a patio and a buzzing bar.

2 THE ROYAL HOTELDanish designer Arne ‘Egg Chair’ Jacobsen put the finishing touches to this iconic building back in 1960. 606 is the only room in which Jacobsen’s classic original décor remains.

1 NIMBFraming the famous fringes of the Tivoli Gardens, Nimb may only have 14 suites but what it lacks in lodgings it makes up for downstairs with four restaurants and two sleek bars.

3 D’ANGLETERREAs famous as the clientele that stays here – Hans Christian Andersen included – this is Copenhagen’s undisputed super-stay: steeped in more than 250 years of history.

RESTAURANTS

6 FISKEBARENFound in the trendy Meatpacking District, Fiskebaren is one of the city’s hottest tables. And it’s not hard to see why.Danish seafood is the order of the day: the fish and chips is excellent.

7 UMAMIThe cuisine is high-end Japanese served up with a French twist: seared foie gras with eel and sake-steamed mussels are must-tries. Go on a weekend night when the DJ spins funky tunes.

8 MASHMASH is a carnivore’s hunting ground: the mouthwatering menu is meat-centric, with bloodthirsty diners gorging on doorstep-sized steaks accompanied by sumptuous sides.

5 NOMAHere, in a converted 18th-century warehouse, Nordic nosh with an emphasis on local ingredients is served up. Understated interiors allow the food to take centrestage.

GALLERIES

13 THE DANISH NATIONAL GALLERY700 years of cultural history are packed in to Copenhagen’s largest museum, and visitors line up to view everything from installations to abstract photography.

14 V1 GALLERYA haven for younger artists in Copenhagen, V1 is the perfect platform for new talent. White walls and a concrete floor allow the art to do the talking, most of which is quite inexpensive.

15 FRIHEDSMUSEETProving once and for all that size isn’t everything, this small museum in Churchill Park tells the touching story of Denmark’s courage during WWII: a very poignant place.

16 GALLERI BO BJERGGAARDJust recently relocated to the Meatpacking District. Inside this hip gallery is European art from the late 20th-century with a particular slant on photography and video.

BARS/CLUBS

9 RUBYHidden behind the façade of an 18th-century apartment building, Ruby is hard to get in. But once you’ve got in, you enter a space of high ceilings, Chesterfields and bookcases.

10 SIMON’S NIGHTCLUBRelatively new kid on the block, Simon’s is housed in an old art gallery. There are dwarves behind the bar and ballet dancers on the dance floor. Extremely hard to get in, but worth it.

11 JOLENEFound inside a converted slaughterhouse, Jolene is open for free Wi-Fi hawks during the day and underground scene queens by night. It’s small, intimate and attracts a crowd of hipsters.

12 VEGA NATKLUB1990’s stalwart Vega is as popular now as it was back then: and for good reason, comprising a network of concert halls, nightclubs and bar in one circular, brick-built venue. Bags of character.

Why Hol

lywood

Loves

Adven

ture

By Ma

rk Pow

ell

48

CELLULOID DISSECTED

FLICK

Discuss adventure movies

today, and it’s highly

likely that the first titles to

spring into your conversation will be

the gigantic summer blockbusters

that inevitably surf in on a wave of

shark-eyed merchandise tie-ins.

Lunchboxes, action figures and video

games are all now regular precursors

to the actual premieres of these

films: Jurassic Park, Pirates Of The

Caribbean and Harry Potter.

These movies are CGI

extravaganzas, filmed on vacant sets

in front of giant green screens, with

90 per cent of their visual fireworks

edited in after the actors have

performed their action sequences and

moved on to other projects. Adventure

films of the modern era are pretty

much wholly reliant on a series of

staggeringly costly illusions. But was

this always the case?

Well, not exactly: back in the

genre’s initial 1930-40s era, even the

most swashbuckling epics still knew

a thing or two about keeping it real.

Errol Flynn, Clark Gable and Tyrone

Power were the stalwart adventure

heroes of the day, fending off waves

of cannonballs, poisoned arrows

and love rivals in titles such as The

Black Swan, The Mark Of Zorro and

Adventures Of Don Juan.

Stunts and effects have

always been part of large-scale

moviemaking, but those early forays

into macho fantasy were a far cry

from our modern obsession with

schoolboy wizards. So how did we

get here, and have we lost some of

that grittier early spirit of adventure

along the way?

Investigate the evolution of the

genre through the 1950-60s, and

you’ll still spot plenty of familiar-

sounding titles in the early years

— films such as Treasure Island

and Ivanhoe all stuck to the motifs

of moustachioed swordsmen,

smouldering damsels and wild beasts.

But then things change; by the mid-

1950s, we see films such as Forbidden

Planet, The Time Machine and

Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea.

As the rate of scientific progress

exploded and humankind’s journey

into the oceans and space ploughed

onward, Hollywood tried to stay

ahead of the curve.

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49

From the mid-1960s until the

early 1980s, one name became

synonymous with the blurring of

the lines between adventure and

fantasy — that of animation genius

Ray Harryhausen.

His trademark stop-motion visual

effects now perfectly demonstrated

the increasing power of cinema to

act as a mirror for even our wildest

flights of fancy: during this period,

key Harryhausen movies like Jason

And The Argonauts, The Golden

Voyage Of Sinbad and Clash Of

The Titans gradually became the

standard at which all adventure

epics felt compelled to aim.

The influence of this era on cinema

has never really faded. It’s obvious

across the Indiana Jones titles —

arguably the most iconic of the genre’s

latter-day franchises. As techniques

have evolved yet further, so too have

the environments and enemies our

modern heroes struggle against.

Couple that with a growing

industry realisation throughout the

1980s and 1990s that merchandising

to young cinemagoers was

more lucrative than the movies

themselves, and it’s only a short hop,

skip and jump to the position we find

ourselves in today.

While it may be easy to lament the

apparent shift in fashion away from

the real-world settings and historical

overtones of golden era Hollywood

adventuring, it’s important to note

that we’re now in an enviable position

of choice: for every Avatar, there’s

been a Ridley Scott/Russell Crowe

reboot of Robin Hood; alongside each

successive Harry Potter, we’ve had

new versions of Gulliver’s Travels,

Conan The Barbarian, and yes —

even Clash Of The Titans.

In fact, it seems the biggest threat

to the whole adventure genre at the

moment comes from mainstream

cinema’s increasingly maddening

obsession with remakes.

If CGI is the one force in Hollywood

currently encouraging us to push

out and beyond into previously

uncharted territory, then we

arguably owe it a debt of gratitude

in retrospect.

3D, on the other hand… well,

that’s a bile-flecked rant for another

issue altogether.

50

DUBAI-BASED SOUL AND JAZZ VOCALIST RACHAEL CARRADINE PICKS HER PLAYLIST

SKYPOD

HUMAN NATURE — MICHAEL JACKSONThis song has such a beautiful melody. I love

the way Michael sings it, what a talent he was.

THE PLANET SUITE — GUSTAV HOLSTEThis was my first proper introduction to classical music.

My dad had it on vinyl when I was very young. If you listen

carefully you can hear how it influenced all ‘space’ theme

tunes since, including Star Trek and Star Wars.

IT’S MY LIFE — TALK TALKI listen to this when things start to get

me down. It’s a great uplifting tune and

the video, with all the animals running

around, is fabulous.

THE SUN RISING — THE BELOVEDI remember in the late 1990s,

BBC Radio One played this

song during a solar eclipse

just as sun came back out —

it was magical!

TANTO TEMPO — BABEL GILBERTOThis whole album is

just so chilled out but

Tanto Tempo is my

favourite track. It

reminds me of one of

my sisters back in the

UK. It brings back some

hilarious memories too.

51

I AM THE BLACK GOLD OF THE SUN — ROTARY CONNECTIONThe vocals on this track are

incredible. The Nuyorican Soul

version is great too, but the original

is still the best, Minnie Ripperton is

amazing. Les Fleurs is another great

tune of theirs too.

COULD YOU BE LOVED — BOB MARLEYI picked this song, but I really could have picked anything by Bob

Marley. I used to play his Natural Mystic album on repeat. Think I’ll

dig it out and get to know it again.

I KEEP FORGETTIN’ — MICHAEL MCDONALDThe groove of this song is so cool; I also love the way it lifts

in the bridge. I’m a fan of anything he does, but this song is

one of my favourites.

NEGGHEAD — POINTLESS PRESSURE I love this track because it’s

from one of my favourite labels

(www.waxonrecords.com) and I

often have it playing on repeat.

Good vibes.

PORTUGUESE LOVE —TEENA MARIEAnyone who’s into soul, hip hop

or R&B should definitely listen

to Teena Marie’s material. She

broke down many walls with her

incredible voice and was one of

the only white artists signed to the

Motown label back in the day. This

song is the obvious choice.

WWW.THEFRIDGEDUB AI.COM

53

LOCAL VOICES

HOW TO ACCESS OUR INNER STRENGTH

FEELING THE FEAR

WAEL AL SAYEGH WONDERS WHERE THE ADVENTUROUS

SPIRIT OF PAST GENERATIONS HAS GONE TO

ILLU

STR

ATIO

N B

Y V

ESN

A P

ESI

C

Do you ever wonder why

tomato juice tastes so

much better on a plane

and why some movies make far

better sense when viewed 30,000ft

in the air? Ever thought about why

five minutes feels like 10 when

you’re travelling?

When we travel, we are reunited

with our ‘adventurer selves’. With

destination set and path determined,

our senses are heightened, our

souls tuned to the frequency of the

expanding universe. We are aligned

with its flow, its energy, its force. We

feel at home.

One of the most respected

European adventurers ever to visit

Arabian sands was Sir Wilfred

Thesiger (1910-2003). What made

Thesiger different from other

travellers was his true adventurer’s

spirit. He didn’t come to teach us how

life should be, but instead embraced

our way of life and journeyed

alongside us. He was a student of

our land and our people; he came

to learn, not to preach, he came to

explore and discover, not to sow and

reap. In return he was given love,

respect and even an Arabic name,

Mubarak Bin London.

I was privileged to be amongst the

few students in my school who had

the chance to meet this legendary

man and hear him speak.

The brief encounter was

memorable. His tall stature and

distinctive nose gave him great

presence in a culture where these

features are much valued. His eyes

were almost hypnotic, past the

stage of having any distinct colour.

The wrinkles on his hands and face

resembled the ripples of the desert

sands of the Empty Quarter, which

he managed to cross twice.

The pictures of him on our school

walls showed him in full Bedu attire,

and with his beard, turban, a chain of

camels, and a khanjar (Arabic dagger)

proudly strapped to his waist, it was

almost impossible to think of him as

being non-Arab.

In fact, it wasn’t until we were

told who he was — an adventuring

Englishman from Oxford — did we

come to understand that he was

an outsider. His key message to the

gathered students has remained with

me ever since; ‘Don’t lose what your

grandfathers had’.

Thesiger was referring to our

ancestors’ way of life, one that had

adventure and exploration at the

very heart of it. Whether on land or at

sea, the element of the unknown was

present. Pearl divers would annually

take part in expeditions that meant

they had to live on a boat for almost

half the year.

Storms and piracy were an everyday

hazard. The Bedu, with their ‘desert

ships’, would cover long distances every

day with the threat of invading tribes

and robbers, all the while battling the

environmental challenges of some of

the world’s most hostile terrain.

Despite, or perhaps because

of, the many threats and risks of

that time, our grandfathers and

grandmothers lived every moment

in the present and thus fully tasted

and appreciated life in a way our

cursing, mall-hopping generation

finds hard to fathom.

Our grandparents were

financially poor compared to us

today, but they were far richer in

personality and charisma.

They were thin and lanky, but

they could handle all the pressure

1304

Ibn Battuta was the

original globetrotter, set-

ting off from Morocco

in 1325. He travelled

through North Africa,

the Middle East and

China, eventually

returning home 29

years later. The veracity

of his writings has been

questioned, but no one

doubts his wanderlust.

1454

Something of a

workaholic, Amerigo

Vespucci was a

navigator, financier,

cartographer and an

explorer. The Americas

are named after him,

which might explain

why Columbus had

some issues with him.

An Italian icon of

exploration.

1788

The interpreter and

guide for the Lewis and

Clark Expedition,

Sacagawea has long

been a symbol for

American women and

Native Americans. She

was kidnapped twice as

a child, but survived;

and took part in one of

the country’s great

historical moments.

1813

David Livingstone was

a Scottish mission-

ary who popularised

the ‘scramble for

Africa’ with his journeys

across the continent.

His religious zeal was

combined with a Prot-

estant work ethic. He

died in Africa, aged 60,

riven with malaria and

dysentery.

A BRIEF HISTORY OF EXPLORERS

54

55

life could throw at them with a smile

and a twinkle in their eye. Their souls

were tempered by the adventurer

way of life.

All of us, Arab or not, still have

access to this tempered inner

strength, even in our modern age.

The only thing standing between us

and our ‘adventurer selves’ is a four

letter word: Fear.

Today, most of us live in the

warmth of our own comfort zones,

so much so that when fear knocks

on the door we mistake it for an

enemy instead of recognising it for

what it is, a source of an emotional

energy that can help us live the life

of the adventurer.

If unutilised, this energy roots

us to the ground and we become

chained to a life of no surprises,

no excitement and ultimately no

happiness. This is, unfortunately, all

too common in the modern world.

When we adventure, we break

this cycle. Fear is the fuel that helps

us do that. Fear is the best friend an

adventurer has.

That is why travelling and

adventure are seen by many cultures

as a spiritual journey and not merely

physical transportation from point

A to point B.

The great mystic poet Rumi called

the holy voyage into adventure ‘Night

Travelling’, where the word night is

used to represent our fear.

Adventure is a purifying

experience because it propels us

outside what is comfortable to where

real living begins. This is something

we should all try and experience.

LOCAL VOICES

1934

Yuri Gagarin was the

first man to journey

into outer space, and

became a Soviet hero

after he landed in

1961. His mission sent

the Americans into a

panic and started a full

scale battle to explore

space. Gargarin died

seven years later when

his MiG jet crashed.

1923

The ultimate American

hero, Chuck Yeager

flew for more than

60 years and was the

first person to break

the sound barrier in

1947. He flew missions

in WWII and Vietnam

and his deep, sooth-

ing drawl has been

mimicked by pilots

worldwide. A legend.

1887

The first woman to fly

over the North Pole,

Louise Arner Boyd, was

also a polar bear hunter,

an avid Arctic explorer,

and one of the first

people to conquer the

icy swathes of Green-

land. She was honoured

by the American and

Norwegians and is

revered to this day.

1877

A true Renaissance

Man, William Beebe

was a biologist, explorer,

naturalist, author and

ornithologist who

helped popularise

scientific writing in the

early 1900s. His deep

sea diving and field

trips mark him out as

one of the world’s first

conservationists.

57

INTERVIEW

MYTRAVELLED LIFE BENEDICT ALLEN, 51, E X P LO R E R

ON TROUBLEThe only trouble I ever seem to have from

humans are when encountering other people

like me, not adventurers, but outsiders.

Opportunists such as loggers, drug runners,

gold miners – have been a big problem.

ON EXPLORINGWhile I was at university, I kept trying to find

ways that would allow me to be an explorer.

I knew I wasn’t cut out for the army, and

I didn’t have any money – but I thought

that there must be a way. There are people

living in Borneo and in the Amazon who

don’t have any money either and I thought

I could live with people like these, and

that is how the expeditions came to pass.

I turned to local people in places we would

consider inhospitable.

ON THE LOCALSWhen I put myself at the mercy of the local

people they were incredibly hospitable – even

people in the towns would warn me that

there were wild cannibals that would eat me.

But no matter where I have been, people

would welcome me. I was no threat, I didn’t

usually have a gun – I was just by myself.

ON KITI always have a survival kit around my waist,

with things such as waterproof matches,

a spare compass. I also have a special white

penknife, which is easier to find at night or in

tropical places, which is where I tend to go. I

have two young children now, so I take photos

of them with me to remind myself what I am

coming back to. If you are ever in a bad posi-

tion you need to have something to fight for.

ON ISOLATIONI have gone 30 days without seeing a person

before. In terms of ‘civilised’ people, crossing

the Amazon basin took me seven and a

half months and I only came across mainly

indigenous people. Being totally alone is

hard, but those are the survival situations

you find yourself in. The thing with survival

situations is that life is beautifully simple –

all you have to do is get out of them.

ON CLOSUREIncluding my last book, Into The Abyss,

I have written 10 books. The writing is

the closure of each expedition; I have to

get everything out of my system. After

the physical bit, there is the mental bit –

writing about your findings. That’s what

exploration is about; building on people’s

knowledge of places.

58

SAN FRANCISCO WWW.STREETPEEPER.COM

STREET PEEP • ER

J.Crew shirt

Lanvin shorts

JP Tod’s shoes

Club Monaco belt

DORIAN

BUSINESSMAN

Pierre Cardin jacket, vest

and pants

Optimo hat

John Lobb shoes

DIGITAL MARKETING

All vintage

SHOP ASSISTANT

All Paul Smith

59

STYLIST

Levi’s vest

American Apparel T-shirt

J Brand pants

Salvatore

Ferragamo shoes

MUSICIAN

Vintage jacket

Disney sweatshirt

Ralph Lauren pants

FASHION EDITOR

Vintage jacket and dress

Chanel bag

DSquared shoes

REBECCA

SHOP ASSISTANT

See by Chloé dress

Seychelles shoes

60

ARCHITECTURE MAPPED CAPILANO SUSPENSION BRIDGE

PLACE

61

IMA

GE

: M

ICH

ELL

E L

EE

IMAGE: BAHR AL ALUM KARIM

STORE

62

URBAN C ARTOGRAPHY SHELTER DUBAI CREATIVE SPACE

Dubai is known for many

things — big buildings, big

brands and big money — but

not as a creative hub. At least not yet.

But there is a change afoot in the dusty

industrial area of Al Quoz, where the

well-hidden collection of innocuous

warehouses known as Al Serkal Avenue

has already become home to a number of

art galleries. Now, twin brothers Rashid

and Ahmed Bin Shabib – editor in chief

and publisher of local bi-monthly art

magazine Brownbook respectively

– have moved Shelter, which Rashid

describes as a gathering place for

creatives to share ideas, to the area.

Shelter originally opened in 2007

in another, more isolated, Al Quoz

location, but the brothers have been

looking for the opportunity to move to

the heart of the creative community for

the past four years.

“We always worked closely with

local galleries, and our remoteness in

the old space was counterproductive,”

says Rashid. “Clusters work better for

projects like this, and the community

is very happy with the move.”

The brothers enlisted the skills

of Japanese architect Takeshi

Murayama to create a functional yet

environmentally sensitive space within

an existing warehouse.

“We’ve used OSB boards made up

of wood debris,” says Rashid. “That

element of recyclability and avoiding

waste is very much in line with our

philosophy. A lot of people preach,

63

whereas we are really doing it.” The

result is an impressive two-floor,

modular wooden house construction

within what is a typical warehouse

space, built of recycled wooden sheets

with a number of glassless windows cut

into them. There is also a bookstore, a

café and a library.

“Takeshi Murayama’s work is very

distinctive,” explains Rashid. “His style

is rooted in Japanese architecture —

minimalism, usability of small spaces

and functional pockets, all of which you

see at the new Shelter.”

The upper floor features a small

meeting room and desks for creatives

to come in between 9am and 6pm to

work on their laptops, study for exams

or plan their next project, with the more

open downstairs space set aside for

film screenings and a programme of

educational seminars — a major focus

for the Bin Shabib brothers.

The topics of the monthly seminars

range from independent fashion

and retail across the Middle East to

publishing, food and farming.

“Education is a big part of what we do,”

says Rashid. “They will be held three

times a week and will be free to all.”

And with Shelter also looking to hold

30 events in collaboration with local

creatives, the space will provide a

welcome boost to the creative scene.

Shelter, Warehouse 30, Al Serkal Avenue, Al Quoz,

Dubai, (971) 4 3809040; www.shelter.ae

64

WE BAG HALF A DOZEN QUIRKY KNICK KNACKS IN THE CITY’S BAZAARS

Haci Bekir, Turkish

Delight, $12.

The locals call it

lokum, and Haci Bekir

makes the best in the

city. Delicious.

Hamidiye Caddesi 83,

Eminönü

Backgammon

Board, $12.

An entertaining

café pastime or an

attractive and quirky

coffee table trinket.

The Grand Bazaar,

Çemberlitas

Vintage Watch, $18.

You might need to

wind it every 10

minutes, but it’s

definitely an original.

The Grand Bazaar,

Çemberlitas

1 2

1

3

2

ISTANBULBOOTY

3

65

Turkish Coffee

Set, $26.

Enjoy Istanbul’s

best coffee in in

the comfort of

your own home.

Kurukahveci, Tahmis Sokak,

66 Eminönü

Retro Orient Express

Film Poster, $4.

A reminder of travel’s

glory days for your

study wall.

Medicye Mah Hazine SK,

2/A Ortaköy

Atatürk Fridge

Magnet, $1.

Say hello to the father

of the Turkish nation

every time you go to

grab the milk.

Ortaköy Sunday Market

4 56

4

5 6

67

CALENDAR

COMIC-CON

MIDDLE KINGDOM, MIDDLE EAST

SAHARA RACE

Adventurers take to Cairo as they race

across 250km of desert. www.racingtheplanet.com

The first Chinese art exhibition in

Dubai will feature 25 works of art.

www.galleryetemad.com

New York hosts one of the largest pop-

culture geekfests in America.

www.newyorkcomiccon.com

Sat

Sun

Mon

Tue

Wed

Thu

Fri

Sat

Sun

Mon

Tue

Thu

Fri

Sat

Sun

Mon

Tue

Wed

Thu

Fri

Sat

Sun

Mon

Tue

Wed

Wed

12

34

56

78

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

2223

2425

2627

28

29

30

31

IBA ANNUAL CONFERENCE

The International Bar Association’s

annual conference takes place in

Dubai. www.ibanet.org

ATP WORLD TENNIS FINALS

The top eight players in the world

play each other in London.

www.barclaysatpworldtourfinals.com

Fri

Sat

OctoberSu

n

Mon

Thu

69

A SANA’A TALE

THE MAGIC AND MYSTERY

OF YEMEN’S CAPITAL.

AND A SNAKE

P80

MAIN P. 88 the last action hero P.

70

ILLU

STR

ATIO

NS:

MIT

CH

BLU

NT

||

WW

W.M

ITC

HB

LUN

T.C

OM

71

w ith all the

lights on and

the door shut

to protect

us from the

hellish draught that blew up the

backstairs, the fitting room was like

an oven with mirrors. There were four

of us jammed in it: Hyde-Clarke, the

designer; Milly, a very contemporary

model girl with none of the normal

protuberances; the sour-looking fitter

in whose workroom the dress was

being made; and Newby.

Things were not going well. It

was the week before the showing of

the 1956 Spring Collection; a time

of endless fittings, the girls in the

workroom working late. The corset-

makers, embroiderers, furriers,

milliners, tailors, skirt-makers and

matchers all involved in disasters

and overcoming them – but by now

slightly insane.

‘You MUST stand still dear;

undulation will get you nowhere,’

Hyde-Clarke said. He stood up

breathing heavily and lit a cigarette.

There was a silence broken only

by the fitter who was grinding her

teeth. ‘What do you think of it now,

Mr Newby?’ he said. “It’s you who

has to sell it.’

‘Much worse, Mr Hyde-Clarke.’

(We took a certain ironic pleasure in

calling one another Mister.) ‘Like one

of those flag poles they put up in the

Mall when the Queen comes home.’

Hyde-Clark was already putting on

his covert coat. ‘We’ll try again at two.

I am going to luncheon’. He turned to

me. ‘Are you coming?’ he said.

We went to ‘luncheon’. In speech

Hyde-Clarke was a stickler in the use

of certain Edwardianisms, so that

beer and sandwiches in a pub became

‘luncheon’ and a journey in his

dilapidated sports car ‘travel by motor’.

As we batted our way up Mount

Street through a blizzard, I screeched

in his ear that I was abandoning the

fashion industry. ‘I saw the directors

this morning and told them I had just

had a book accepted for publication.’

‘It isn’t true is it? I can hardly

visualise you writing anything.’

‘That’s what the publishers

said, originally. Now I want to go on

an expedition.’

‘Aren’t you rather old?’

‘I am just as old here as on an

expedition. You can’t imagine

anything more rigorous than this can

you? In another couple of years, I’ll be

dying my hair.’

‘In another couple of years you won’t

have any to dye,’ said Hyde-Clark.

On the way back from ‘luncheon’,

while Hyde-Clarke bought some

72

A SHORT WALK

Scotch ribs in a fashionable butcher’s

shop, I went into the Post Office in

Mount Street and sent a cable to Hugh

Carless, a friend of mine at the British

Embassy, Rio de Janeiro. CAN YOU

TRAVEL NURISTAN JUNE?

It had taken me 10 years to discover

what everyone connected with it had

been telling me all along, that the

fashion industry was not for me.

Hugh Carless. Who had replied

so opportunely to my cable, entered

the Foreign Service in 1950. The

son of a retired Civil Servant, he is,

like so many Englishmen, in love

with Asia. For a time he was posted

to the school of Oriental Studies,

from where he emerged with a

good knowledge of Persian; then to

the Foreign Office, from which he

frequently disappeared on visits to

industrial plants; once he went down

a coalmine.

His Persian being both fluent and

academic, he was lucky to be posted to

our Embassy in Kabul where he could

actually make use of his talents. Hugh

had subsequently been transferred

to Rio de Janeiro, but the seed [of

Afghanistan] had been planted.

Hugh’s telegram [agreeing to the

Nuristan trip] was followed by a great

spate of letters, which began to flow

into London from Rio. They were all at

least four pages long, neatly typed in

single spacing – sometimes two would

arrive in one day.

They showed that he was in a

far more advanced state of mental

readiness for the journey than I

was. It was as if, by some process of

mental telepathy, he had been able to

anticipate the whole thing. It was all

heady stuff, but then, quite suddenly

the tone of the letters changed.

I don’t think we should make known

our ambition to go to Nuristan. Rather

I suggest we ask permission to go on a

73

Climbing Expedition. There are some

good and unclimbed peaks of about

20,000 feet, all on the marches of

Nuristan. One of them, Mir Samir

(19,880) I attempted with Bob Dreesen

in 1952. We climbed up to some

glaciers and reached a point of 3,000

feet below the final pyramid. A minor

mishap forced us to return.

He was already deeply involved in

the clichés of mountaineering. I re-

read his 1952 letter and found that the

‘minor mishap’ was an amendment.

At the time he had written ‘one of

the party was hit on the head with a

boulder’; he didn’t say who.

I was filled with profound

misgiving. In cold print 20,000 feet

does not seem very much. But I had

never climbed anything. I had never

been anywhere that a rope had been

remotely necessary. It was useless to

dissemble any longer. I wrote a letter

protesting in the strongest possible

terms and received by return a list of

equipment that I was to purchase.

Many of the objects I had never

heard of: two Horeschowsky ice-axes;

three-dozen Simond rock and ice

pitons; six oval karabiners (2,000lb.

minimum breaking strain); five 100ft

nylon ropes; six abseil slings; Everest

goggles, Grivel, ten point crampons; a

high altitude tent; an altimeter; Yukon

pack frames – the list was endless.

It was the second week in May. I

was leaving in a fortnight. To add

to my troubles I now received a

letter from Hugh. It was extremely

alarming. I read it to Hyde-Clarke.

‘These three climbs will

certainly be a good second-class

mountaineering achievement. But

we will almost certainly need with

us an experienced climber.’

‘I thought you said he was an

experienced climber.’

‘So did I.’

Eric Newby and Hugh Carless travelled to Istanbul, before setting off by ferry and then by car to Tehran, and eventually to

Meshed in the south of the country.

A little beyond Meshed we stopped

at a police post in a miserable

hamlet to ask the way to the Afghan

Frontier and Herat. I was afflicted

with the gastric disorders that were

to hang like a cloud over our venture.

Hugh seemed impervious to bacilli

and, as I sat in the vehicle waiting

for him to emerge from the police

station, I munched sulphaguanadine

tablets gloomily and thought of the

infected ice cream he had insisted

on buying at Kazvin on the road

from Tabriz to Tehran. Five miles

beyond the police post the road

forked left for the Afghan Frontier.

It crossed a dry riverbed with banks

of gravel and went up past a large

fortified building set on a low hill.

But whoever was driving seemed

possessed of a demon who made it

impossible ever to stop. Locked in the

cab we were prisoners. We could see

the country

we passed through but not feel it and

the only smells were from the fumes

of our exhaust and the foul pipes;

vistas we would have gladly lingered

over had we been alone were gone

in an instant and forever. If there is

any way of seeing less of a country

than from a motorcar I have yet to

experience it. The air was full of dust

and, as the sun set, everything was

bathed in a blinding saffron light.

There was not a house or village

anywhere, only a whitewashed tomb

set on a hill, and far up the river bed,

picking their way across the grey

shingle, a file of men and donkeys.

Here for me, rightly or wrongly, was

the beginning of Central Asia.

Now the country was wider still,

the road more twisting, with a range

of desolate mountains to the

west dimly seen in the

flying sand. The only

occasional people

we met were

I re-read his 1952 letter and found that the ‘minor mishap’ was an amendment. At the time

he had written ‘one of us hit on head with boulder’

74

A SHORT WALK

roadmenders, desiccated heroes in

rags, imploring us for water. To the

left was the Hari-Rud, a great river

burrowing through the sand, and

we pointed to it as we swept past,

smothering them in dust, but they

put out their tongues and waved their

empty water skins and cried ‘namak,

namak’ [water, water] until we knew

the river was salt and were shamed

into stopping. At times the river was

so insubstantial that it tapered into

nothingness, sometimes it became

a lake, shivering like a jelly between

earth and sky.

Sixty miles farther on we arrived

at Herat. On the outskirts of the city,

raised by Alexander and sieged and

sacked by almost everyone of any

consequence in Central Asia, the

great towers erected in the fifteenth

century by Gauhar Shah Begum,

remarkable wife of the son of Timur

Leng, King Shah Rukh, rose into the

sky. Only a few of the ceramic tiles

the colour of lapis-lazuli, that once

covered these structures from top to

bottom, still remain in position.

By the time, later that day, we left

Herat it was dark. All night we drove

over shattering roads, taking turns

at the wheel, pursued by a fearful

tail wind that swirled the dust ahead

of us like a London fog. If it had been

possible we should have lost the

way, but there was only one road. It

seemed impossible for the road to get

worse, but it did: vast pot-holes large

enough to contain nests of machine-

gunners; places where it was washed

away as far as the centre, leaving a

six-foot drop to ground level; things

Hugh called ‘Irish Bridges’, where

a torrent had swept right through

the road leaving a steep natural

step at the bottom; all provided a

succession of spine-shattering jolts.

Whereas the previous night we had

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76

A SHORT WALK

only met two lorries in the hours

of darkness, there were now many

monster American vehicles loaded

with merchandise to the height of

a two-storied house, each with its

complement of piratical-looking men

hanging on the scramble nettings,

who jumped off to wedge the wheels

on the steep gradients, while the

passengers huddled together, making

the crossing on foot, groaning with

apprehension. Sticky with melon

we arrived at a town called Girishk

on the Helmand River. There,

under a mulberry tree, squatted

the proprietor of a chaikana, a

long-headed grey-bearded Pathan,

chanting a dirge on the passing of a

newly founded civilization, no new

thing in this part of the world.

He railed against the Americans

until the oil lanterns that were tied to

the trees began to flicker and go out

one by one.

“You will be in Kandahar in two

hours,’ he went on. ‘The Americans

built the road; they have not taken

that away.”

It was as he said. The road was

like a billiard table. The following

morning we arrived in Kabul and

drove down the great ceremonial

avenues, newly asphalted, past

Russian steamrollers still ironing

out the final bumps, to the principal

hotel. We were five days late. It was

Friday, 5 July, 1956. In a month we

had driven nearly 5,000 miles. Our

journey was about to begin.

We left Kabul on 10 July. Our

destination was the Panjshir Valley

and The Mountain. The last hope of

recruiting an expert mountaineer

had now expired. During our short

stay in the capital we had been

extremely discreet about our

capabilities or rather our lack of

them, but still no one had come

forward. With us in the vehicle were

Ghulam Naabi [a local cook Carless

had used on a previous expedition]

and one of the private servants from

the Embassy, a fine-looking bearded

man with loyal eyes. This is nearly

always a bad sign in Asia where

fine-looking bearded men with loyal

eyes have a habit of leaving you in

the lurch in the most inconvenient

moments – but this particular

specimen really was faithful. The

road climbed a pass where gangs of

Hazaras, round-headed Mongols in

the uniform of the Afghan Labour

Corps were widening it, using

Russian steamrollers. Immediately

the lugubrious air that hangs over

the visitor to Kabul in an almost

visible cloud was dispelled, and

we entered the Koh-i-Daman, rich

upland country. Our spirits rose.

Now that we were near our

destination, Ghulam Naabi began

to identify the scenes of the various

mishaps that had overtaken him and

Hugh on the road when they were

last there in 1952. “Here I was overset

in a lorry with Carless Sahib.”

“You never told me that,” I said to

Hugh. “It was nothing, the driver

lost his head. Ghulam Naabi was

a bit shaken, that’s all.” Another

mile. We ground up a really steep

piece covered with loose stones.

“Here we had a puncture.” A little

farther and we reached a place

where the radiator had boiled over. It

seemed impossible that such a short

distance could encompass so many

misfortunes. I asked Hugh about the

passes into Nuristan.

“Don’t mention the word Nuristan

when we come to hire the drivers,

otherwise they won’t come. They’re

terrified of the place.”

He was a fine-looking bearded man, nearly always a bad sign in Asia, where fine looking bearded men leave you in the lurch at the worst times

78

A SHORT WALK

We crossed the river by a bridge,

went up through the village of

Shahnaiz and downhill towards the

lower Panjshir. “Look,” said Hugh, “it

must be Thesiger.”

Coming towards us out of the great

gorge was a small caravan. We had

been on the march for a month. We

were all jaded; the horses were galled

because the drivers were careless of

them and their ribs stood out because

they had been in places only fit for

mules. The drivers had run out of

tobacco and were pining for their

wives; there was no sugar, no jam,

no cigarettes and I was reading The

Hound Of The Baskervilles for the

third time; all of us suffered from

dysentery. The ecstatic sensations we

had experienced at a higher altitude

were beginning to wear off. It was not

a gay party.

Thesiger’s party consisted of two

villainous-looking tribesmen dressed

like royal mourners in long overcoats

reaching to the ankles; a shivering

Tajik cook, with bright red hair,

unsuitably dressed for Central Asia

in crippling pointy brown shoes and

natty socks supported by suspenders,

but no trousers; the interpreter, a

gloomy-looking Afghan in a coma

of fatigue, wearing dark glasses, a

double-breasted lounge suit and an

American hat; and Thesiger himself,

a great, long-striding crag of a man,

with an outcrop for a nose and bushy

eyebrows, forty-five years old and as

hard as nails, in an old tweed jacket

worn by Eton boys, a pair of thin grey

cotton trousers, rope-soled Persian

slippers and a cap comforter.

“That cook’s going to die,” said

Thesiger; hasn’t got a coat and look at

his feet. We’re nine thousand if we’re

an inch here. How high’s the Chamar

Pass?’ We told him 16,000 feet.

“Get a coat and boots, do you hear?”

he shouted in the direction of the fire.

After two hours the chickens

arrived; they were like elastic, only

the rice and gravy were delicious.

Famished, we wrestled with the

bones in the darkness. “England’s

going to pot,” said Thesiger, as Hugh

and I lay smoking the interpreter’s

King Size cigarettes, the first for a

fortnight. “Look at this shirt, I’ve only

had it three years, now it’s splitting.

Same with tailors; Gull and Croke

made me a pair of whipcord trousers

to go to the Atlas Mountains. Sixteen

guineas – wore a hole in them in

a fortnight. Bought half a dozen

shotguns to give to my headmen,

well-known make, twenty guineas

apiece, absolute rubbish.”

He began to tell me about his

Arabs. “I take off fingers and there

is a lot of surgery to be done; they’re

frightened of their own doctors

because they are not clean.” “Do you

do it? Cutting off fingers?” “Hundreds

of them,” he said dreamily, for it was

very late. “Lord, yes. Why, the other

day I took out an eye. I enjoyed that.”

“Let’s turn in,” he said.

The ground was like iron with

sharp rocks sticking up out of it.

We started to blow up our air-beds.

“God, you must be a couple of

pansies,” said Thesiger.

Eric Newby left the fashion business and

became an award-winning travel writer.

England’s gone to pot said Thesiger

as we lay smoking the interpreter’s King

Size cigarettes

Newby, Carless and their guides did eventually reach the Hindu Kush,

but their multiple attempts to climb Mir Samir, an unclimbed glacial peak of 20,000 feet, ended in failure. After a series of near misses, brushes with

death, sickness, unfriendly natives, and hostile conditions, the two inexperienced

climbers turned back towards the Panjshir and Kabul. As they returned

they came across one of the world’s great explorers: Wilfred Thesiger.

8080

A Snake Came to My Parapethow a slithery visitor helped explain YEmen's magical capital.by tim macintosh-smith

A Sana’a Tale

81

ILLU

STR

ATIO

NS:

CH

RIS

TIA

N M

ON

TEN

EGR

O

82

A SANA’A TALE

I have good reason to be

grateful to the ancient South

Arabian kingdom of Saba,

the biblical Sheba; not least,

as will become clear, for the

snake up on the parapet of my house

here in Sana’a.

There is little solid fact about

Sana’a, the capital of Yemen, in

the time of Saba. The city lies at a

junction of two major trade routes —

from the desert to the sea, and along

the spine of the mountain range — so

it was probably important for a good

few centuries BC. By the third century

AD it was home to Ghumdan, the

skyscraper palace of the Sabaean

kings — 10 storeys or more and topped,

the old historians said, with a ceiling

of alabaster and with eagles and

lions of bronze that shrieked

and roared when the wind blew.

Beyond that, we don’t know much.

The reason for the gap in

historical knowledge is that

Sana’a is virtually unexcavated.

Occasional bits and pieces of

Sabaeic inscriptions are visible,

built into the walls of existing

houses. The Great Mosque,

founded by order of the Prophet

Muhammad (PBUH) in about AD

627, contains re-used columns and

other masonry that probably came

from the next-door site of Ghumdan,

and from a cathedral built in the

sixth century when the Ethiopians

ruled Yemen for a few decades. But

the site of the pre-Islamic city itself

is an archaeologist’s dream, a virgin

tell. And so it will remain, for the

ruins are inhabited — covered by the

dense urban hive of the later city,

itself an architectural masterpiece.

Tower-houses, some themselves

going back many hundreds of years,

crowd the southern end of the ruin-

mound where Ghumdan stood.

Going north you pass through the

blacksmiths’ suq, a maze of tiny

workshops and flying sparks (they

still make things here!). At the

north end of the hillock, where the

ninth-century palace of the Abbasid

83

governors stood, you reach the

donkey market — and, among others,

my house.

This is partly why I’m grateful

to the Sabaeans. My five-storey

house is not especially tall by Sana’a

standards. Some of its grander

neighbours go up, in subconscious

imitation of the palace of Ghumdan,

eight or nine floors. But being on

the tail end of the ancient tell, my

house has that extra height — and a

view, a view that haunts my dreams

when I’m away, a view that always

brings me back. The manzar, the

top-floor ‘viewing-room’ that I added

when I moved in, is fine enough

inside, with its windows of alabaster

and coloured glass and its verse-

inscription in stately thuluth script

– ‘Paris is beneath you in beauty, O

Sana’a, and so too are London / And

the capitals of the Romans and the

Americans… ‘ But it’s when you open

the shutters — the sounds of braying

donkeys and clanging blacksmiths

float up — that the verse makes sense:

immediately beyond the low parapet

of my miniscule roof-terrace lie the

buildings of the suq, punctuated,

further away, by sporadic tall houses;

there’s a splash of green, a palm and

a pepper-tree in a garden; and then

the eye is drawn by a wandering line

of minarets — exclamation marks in

the cityscape, marking the mosques

of al-Shahidayn, Aqil, Salah al-Din,

al-Bakiriyyah. Over to the right is the

dome of the Ottoman mosque in the

fort, standing out white against the

tawny background like a giant ostrich

egg; to the far left, another building

obtrudes — the Mövenpick Hotel.

The Mövenpick’s escarpment of

mirrored glass is a reminder that

we don’t live in a time-warp; that,

in fact, the only constant in the

Sana’a scene is its great backdrop,

the crouching lion-coloured mass of

Jabal Nuqum. The mountain looms

over the city from the east, watching

the comings and goings of its rulers:

Sabaeans, Himyarites, Ethiopians,

Persians, Umayyads, Abbasids, then

a bewilderment of local dynasties

interspersed with a couple of periods

of Ottoman rule and the ins and outs

of the Zaydi imamate; the declaration

of a republic in 1962; what next?

The weather can be as busy as the

history. As we’re so high up – 2,300m,

with the peak of Nuqum another

600m above — the lighting of the

scene is fickle. In certain seasons

the mountain disappears in a grey-

out of desert dust, blown from the

distant Empty Quarter. In spring and

summer, thunder-clouds rant and

roll around the surrounding plain,

crackling with electricity; by the

grace of God, rain falls — in deluges,

followed by an almost painful clarity

in which it seems that every rock

on the mountainside is visible. Most

days, rain or shine, the late-afternoon

sun bronzes the city’s buildings and

the bare crags of Nuqum. Then, best

of all, comes maghrib-time, when

the sun slips behind the jagged rim

of mountains to the west, and Sana’a

and Nuqum radiate an afterglow,

luminous against a fragile sky of

The mountain looms over the city, watching

its rulers: Sabeans, Persians, Abbasids,

Ummayads

84

A SANA’A TALE

eggshell blue; until, at last, shapes and

colours dissolve, and slowly the lights

come on behind other windows, like

mine, of coloured glass and alabaster.

One shape remains in the

immediate darkness outside my

window, an even darker, serpentine

line, visible against the plastered

parapet: a snake! As snakes go, this

one is pathetic, a handspan long,

perhaps a foot if it could be stretched

out; little more than a worm. Besides,

as snakes

go, this

one goes

nowhere.

It was

beaten out of an iron rod by one of the

clanging blacksmiths down below.

But it has a certain elegance, and it

makes up for its shortcomings with a

long pedigree.

Writing nearly 1,000 years ago

in his History of Sana’a, al-Razi

explained that ‘Sana’a is protected

by two talismans in the

form of vipers and other

snakes, and it is rare indeed

that these creatures harm

anyone. As for death from

snakebites, such a thing has

never been heard of… One of

these talismans is of iron,

and the other of bronze, and they

used to be on the main gate of the

city. The first, which was in the place

known as al-Qasabah, was made in

pre-Islamic times. The iron talisman

is now on the gate of al-Misra, where

the blacksmiths work today; the other

is on the gate of al-Kashwari.’

It all sounds highly fanciful. But

the odd snake of pre-Islamic vintage

does indeed turn up — I have a

photograph of a bronze one with a

human head, of obscure significance.

Then again, we know that the Sabaeic

word S3H R (a suitably sibillant,

serpentine word, even if the vowels

aren’t known) meant ‘an amulet to

protect a building’; in Arabic, the

cognate sih r means ‘magic’. Today,

some houses in Sana’a have snakes

carved on the stones of their facades –

undulating, like my iron one, or coiled

spring-tight, as if to leap. Older people

who know about such things say that

they scare actual snakes away. As

did al-Razi’s talismans, they work

like Beware Of The Dog signs, but

inverted: Snakes Beware!

Apart from these pest-controlling

serpents of stone and metal, snakes

have played a long role in Arab

folklore as the guardians of treasure.

As far back as the sixth century

AD, a Meccan named Abdallah ibn

Jad’an claimed to have come across

Sana’a is apparently protected by two

talismans in the form of vipers and other

snakes

85

the burial cave of some Jurhumites,

members of an ancient local tribe.

The cavern also contained an Ali

Baba stash of gold and gems, and was

guarded by a golden snake with ruby

eyes. The belief in snake guardians

is still very much alive. When I was

about to move into my house on the

Sabaean ruin mound, I heard odds

and ends of rumours – of a recurring

dream experienced by the previous

occupant concerning treasure hidden

in the house, and of a mysterious

snake that had been glimpsed, coiled

on a shelf in a first-floor room, ‘not a

real snake, you know, but a guardian,

from the jinn’. When I did move in I

found, in that same first-floor room,

a very real small bottle of a type sold

in the apothecaries’ suq. It was empty,

but it had an Arabic label that said,

‘Oil Of Violets: For Expelling Jinn

And Afrits’. And, all over the house, I

found equally real holes in the plaster

of the walls, where my predecessor

had performed her treasure-hunting

excavations. (Did she find anything?)

Passing through the blacksmiths’

suq on the day of the move, I spotted

the elegant iron talisman and bought it

immediately. I was thinking partly of

flesh-and-blood snakes: in my old house

I’d surprised one in the kitchen one day

— after a lively chase, it was dispatched

with a heavy coffee-roasting spoon.

Now I judged that prevention, even

by ancient and dubious means, would

be better than cure. But, I asked the

blacksmith, thinking of jinn-snake-

guardians, would it see off supernatural

as well as everyday snakes?

He smiled. ‘God is the one who

86

A SANA’A TALE

knows… To be honest, there’s not

much call for them these days.’

I nailed the talisman above my

front door and for several years saw no

snakes, natural or supernatural. Mā

fi ‘l-h anash illā ra’sih, says a Yemeni

proverb: ‘there’s nothing to a snake

but its head’ — meaning, Go for the

head and you get rid of the problem.

I seemed to have nailed, on the head,

the problem of unwelcome slithering

visitors. But the story of my talisman

of ancient lineage has a tail, a tail to

the tale, and the tail has a twist.

A couple of years ago, the iron

snake fell off the wall. I nailed it

firmly back. It fell off again… my

suspicions turned to the numerous

small children who live in my alley.

For some time they’d been coming

out with questions like, ‘Is it true that

you keep snakes in your house, all

wriggling around?’ Not wanting to

disappoint them, I’d never denied it.

(It has been known. Tennent’s Ceylon

mentions a gentleman of Negombo

who kept guard-cobras: ‘They glide

about the house, a terror to thieves,

but never attempting to harm the

inmates…‘) As for the iron snake, I

took it inside and put it on a shelf to

gather dust.

The very next morning, a visitor

came. The fact that he’s the Middle

East correspondent of a respectable

British daily newspaper is not

essential to the story; but the other

fact, that I had a witness of his

stature, is reassuring. What I was

about to see was no hallucination.

We were sitting in my manzar,

my top room with the view, when I

happened to mention the errant metal

snake. ‘Oh!’ my visitor suddenly said.

He was staring out of the window.

‘Look behind you.’

A prickle ran down my spine. I

turned — and there, catching the

sun as it looped, leisurely, along the

parapet, was an elegant, foot-long,

metallic-grey snake.

Its tail had hardly slid over the edge

when I went and retrieved the talisman

and hammered it on to the parapet.

It remains there, on guard,

overlooking that magical view. No

more snakes have come, so far.

Tim Macintosh-Smith is an award-winning

writer who has lived in Sana’a for decades.

88

THIS IS SEAN FLYNN. HIS FATHERWAS ERROL FLYNN. SEAN WAS

DESTINED FOR MOVIE STARDOM, BUTHE CHOSE A DIFFERENT PATH. HE

DROVE A MOTORCYCLE INTO COMMUNISTHELD-TERRITORY IN CAMBODIA ON

APRIL 6, 1970 AND WAS NEVER SEENAGAIN. THIS IS A STORY ABOUTYOUTH, WAR, AND DEATH. ABOUT

LOVE, FRIENDSHIP, AND GETTING THEPHOTO. THIS IS HIS STORY. BY HIS

FRIEND, PERRY DEANE YOUNG.

#MISSING

THE MANY MYSTERIES OF SEAN FLYNN

90

SEAN FLYNN

Beautiful. That was

how Michael Herr

described Sean Flynn

in his brilliant book,

Dispatches. Sean was

indeed beautiful, no question about

it, and outwardly calm no matter how

desperate the situation. He had the

perfect manners of an old-fashioned

gentleman, and yet there always

seemed to be inner voices calling

to him from some dark place deep

within, urging him on to mysterious

ventures. How else do you explain

his obsession with weapons. His

fascination with mortal combat in

Vietnam. And, of course, his final

journey down a road in Cambodia he

knew he might never return from.

Sean’s actor father, Errol, had the

grace to say, “he looks like me, but

better.” And Errol himself was no

slouch when it came to looks. For

nearly 30 years he was the ultimate

swashbuckling hero to moviegoers

the world over. Errol was Ivanhoe

and Don Juan and Jeb Stuart and

Captain Blood and General Custer

and Gentleman Jim Corbett. As film

executive Jack Warner said of him: “He

was all the heroes in one magnificent

sexy, animal package.” His escapades

off camera only added to that image.

Errol was a fantasy figure to

millions of people, but he was the

very real father of my friend, Sean. It

didn’t help that his son grew up in the

precise physical image of his father.

Sean’s mother, the French-born

actress, Lili Damita, had been the real

star when she met the poor Australian

actor on a boat to America in 1935.

Lili had starred in several major silent

movies, but, like so many others, she

was unable to make the transition

to talkies. After marrying Errol, she

never made another movie.

After Sean was born in 1941, Errol

would write in his memoir, My

Wicked Wicked Ways, Lili’s real

career became suing him for all he

was worth. She took Sean to live in

Palm Beach, Florida, as far away from

Errol and Hollywood as she could get.

One of his grade school teachers

remembers Lili running so hard in the

parent-son races she fell on her face.

“I was mother, father, everything to

him,” she told me. “I did it all myself.”

She felt a young boy should know all

about guns so she took him to have

shooting lessons from a colourful

character with a range outside town.

It was the beginning of Sean’s lifelong

fascination with weapons.

Sean was a senior at the

Lawrenceville School in October of

1959 when Errol died in Canada, at

the age of 50 and in the company

of his teenage girlfriend, Beverly

Aadland. When young Sean

attended his father’s funeral at

Forest Lawn Memorial Park in

Glendale, CA, he caught the eye of

all the old pros in Hollywood.

Hy Seeger, George Hamilton’s

agent, said, “He was maybe the most

beautiful boy I had ever seen.” George

had also grown up in Palm Beach and

he and Sean had been friends since

they met before a judge on separate

speeding charges. When the 20-year-

old George was filming Where the

Boys Are in Fort Lauderdale in 1959,

he got a walk-on part for his friend

Sean, who was 18.

Sean’s mother was ferocious in her

opposition to a film career for her only

child. It would take a year before she

relented and allowed him to sign with

Seeger as his agent.

As an actor, Sean was as unconvincing as his

father had been a true natural

SEAN FLYNN AND TIM PAGE WORKING AS PHOTOGRAPHERS IN VIETNAM

91

By that time, Sean was a freshman

at Duke University. He had been at

Duke only about three months when

he got the offer from director Harry Joe

Brown to star in The Son Of Captain

Blood, a sequel to his father’s first big

film, which Brown had also directed.

As an actor, Sean was every bit as

stiff as his father had been natural

and convincing in his cutthroat roles.

One reviewer said Sean, “seems like

a nice boy, which is going to be his

handicap for some time to come.”

When Sean set off to film another

B movie in Spain in 1961, he left

Hollywood for good, returning only

for one or two brief visits. Only one

of his movies was ever seriously

reviewed. His mother gave him her

mother’s apartment in Paris that

became his base camp for various

hunting trips to Africa.

When he set off for Vietnam in

January of 1966, he was pursuing

“the sole great adventure,” and one his

father had never experienced. Errol was

ridiculed for playing heroes in the

movies but was ineligible for service

in the Second World War. The Hearst

papers sent him to cover the Spanish

Civil War, but he turned tail and ran

at the first signs of danger.

Sean arrived in Saigon carrying

two suitcases, a suit, an attaché case,

a camera and a tennis racket. A

letter from Paris-Match got him his

accreditation. Having never worked

as a journalist or photographer, he set

off to cover the war.

He had no deadlines, so he was able

to stay out with the troops as long as

he wanted. The Green Berets adopted

him as one of their own. A Green

Beret officer told me: “The guys fell

in love with him; they thought he

was the greatest thing going. They

identified with him because he

was willing to take his share of the

AMERICAN COMBAT HELICOPTERS ON A SEARCH AND DESTROY MISSION IN SOUTH VIETNAM IN 1967

Sean turned up in Saigon with a suitcase, a suit, a camera and a

tennis racquet

92

SEAN FLYNN

chances.” No other correspondent

had such access to missions. And

Sean came out with pictures such as

the ones of prisoners being tortured,

which nobody had gotten before.

The stories under Sean’s byline were

not the shallow observations of a movie

swashbuckler, they were sensitive

stories about the “real stupidity of war.”

In one, Sean described an

American captain crying as he

watched a Vietnamese child dying

of shrapnel wounds. After he moved

into moving film, Sean began

stockpiling hours and hours of film

with the ambition of producing the

ultimate documentary on war.

After the “Five O’clock Follies” — the

daily American press briefing — one

day in Saigon, Sean encountered Tim

Page. They became instant friends,

the war’s odd couple. On the surface,

the two seemed polar opposites and

yet they would become the kind of

bosom buddies that can only happen

in the midst of war. Tim was every bit

as gregarious as Sean was careful,

contained, polite. Invited to an

embassy party, the two showed up in

Viet Cong style black pajamas.

Timothy John Page was born May

25, 1944 in a suburb of London. He

was 21 years old when he managed

to get the only pictures of a coup in

Laos that led to a staff job with UPI. It

didn’t take long for Tim to move on up

to Life; that’s where the money was.

Tim was first wounded by “three

pieces of shrapnel up the bum”

in September of 1965. During the

Buddhist riots in Danang in July of

1966, Tim was hit in the hand and

face, with blood spurting all over

him. Sean commandeered a Marine

jeep, strapped Tim on the front on an

old wooden door and sped off to the

military hospital. After this, Tim was

taking no-risk assignments like a

visit to the Coast Guard cutter, Point

Welcome. Incredibly, the ship was

bombed and strafed by American F-4

fighter jets on nine different passes.

Two Coast Guardsmen were killed.

Tim counted 800 pieces of shrapnel

in his body and carefully saved his

hospital bills and mailed them to the

Secretary of the Air Force.

If Sean had a charmed reputation

as one of the lucky ones everybody

wanted to be with, Tim was the

opposite. One colleague said he was

“a walking magnet for shrapnel.” A

collection was taken up to get him

out of the country. He left with Sean

to film the worst, and last, of his bad

movies, this one called Cinq Gars

Pour Singapore or Five Guys For

Singapore. Tim went off to America

where he proudly got himself arrested

(for drugs) on stage with The Doors.

When the Singapore film had its

premiere in Paris, Tim and Sean were

together again, arriving in Tim’s taxi

in jeans and T-shirts. One night at

the Ritz in London, George Hamilton

got a call from hotel security that

two suspicious guys in black pajamas

wanted to see him. “That’s no Viet

Cong,” said George. “That’s Errol

Flynn’s son.”

George had a reputation for going

out with President Johnson’s daughter

while dodging the draft. Sean said

he ought to see the war for himself,

“things are more clear-cut there.”

That made no sense to George and

he urged Sean to come back and

resume his acting career. Sean had

taken fencing lessons and done all the

superficial things, but he had never

taken acting lessons “and he had the

depth to be a good actor.”

George never saw his friend again.

The next thing he heard, Sean was

in the Six Day War in Israel and then

he was back in Vietnam after the Tet

Offensive began in January of 1968. I

had arrived in Saigon the night before

Tet and had made the rounds of all the

New Year’s Eve parties. At 3am, my

office called and said, “Come to work

if you can get across the street.”

I covered the fighting in Saigon,

then flew to Danang where I was in

and out of the siege at Khe Sanh and

the battle for Hue. To me, it was all

so overwhelming it never seemed

quite real to me. I was watching a

movie and so never felt the very real

dangers. And, one afternoon at the

Danang Press Center, Sean Flynn

walked onto the set of my movie.

THE LAST PHOTO OF SEAN AND DANA

94

SEAN FLYNN

SEAN AND HIS FATHER ERROL ON A FISHING TRIP NEAR LAS VEGAS IN 1951

95

Understated does not begin to

describe him. Soft-spoken, almost

shy, he seemed an utter contradiction

to the legend that preceded him. He

quietly asked if I wanted to walk

down along the riverfront with him.

It is the quiet times like this that I

remember; hanging out at the little

cottage of our soul mates, Dana and

Louise Stone, lazy afternoons at the

Pink House on China Beach.

Off course, Tim was not far

behind. He showed up one night at the

Saigon airport – with all his camera

equipment, but with no visa, no money

and no accreditation. A group of us went

out to help him through customs.

Tim had arrived just before “mini-Tet”

and with money from a Life magazine

cover, he was staging lavish banquets

for his friends in no time. He soon

recruited me to join him in renting

the other half of a huge apartment

on Tu Do Street where Sean and UPI

photographer Nik Wheeler lived.

It was an open clubhouse. John

Steinbeck IV, son of the author, was

soon a regular. John explained that

he and Sean were instant friends

“because we both had a name that

was only partly our own.”

For my own goodbye to Vietnam,

the whole group took off for a weekend

jaunt in December 1968. I then set off

on my own tour of the Orient, from

Hong Kong to Singapore to Bali and

then back up the Malay peninsula to

the Thai capital, Bangkok.

Sean and I were in Vientiane,

Laos, when he received a telegram

from Saigon: “VOTRE AMI EST

GRAVEMENT BLESSE ET PEUT-ETRE

MOURIR.” [Your friend is gravely

wounded and perhaps to die.] After a

wild night out, we flew back to Saigon

to see Tim.

I could not imagine a more hideous

end to our war adventure as we slowly

made our way down the long rows of

mutilated young soldiers now laid out

like sides of beef, their lives ruined at

such a young age. Tim was not expected

to live and if he did, he might never walk

again. Tim, of course, is a survivor. He

would go on to a distinguished career as

a photographer and author of books.

Sean, meanwhile, wrote out his own

will and then took off to Indonesia,

where he fell in love with a high

school girl named Lacsmi. The next

we heard, Sean was in jail. A taxi

driver had assumed his girlfriend was

a prostitute and arranged a paid date

for her. Sean went after the driver,

his john and his Mercedes, with a

baseball bat. We never heard how

Sean got out of that one, but he was

soon back in Saigon with tales of his

idyllic life in Bali. He was going to live

out his life on that peaceful isle.

Dana and Louise were now living in

the old apartment. They had left the

war for good but, like Sean, Dana was

always drawn back to it. He became

a CBS cameraman and was sent

into Cambodia just days before the

American incursion.

Sean couldn’t stand the idea of

missing out on this new phase of the

war and he soon joined Dana at the

Hotel Royale in Phnom Penh.

Dana and Sean rented two bright red

brand new Suzuki motorcycles. The

next morning the two set for the town

of Chi Pou near the Vietnamese border.

A government-led tour for other

correspondents caught up with Sean

and Dana, some would remember

overhearing them. The two sat

arguing at a teashop. Dana talked

about the danger of what Sean wanted

to do; Sean said of course it was

dangerous “but that’s what makes it a

good story.”

Sean tossed Dana’s keys into

a puddle and set off alone. Dana

quipped, “Sean’s trying to scoop

me” and rushed after him. The

other correspondents watched in

amazement as the two drove around

a Communist roadblock and headed

into enemy territory.

By that time, I had a newspaper

job in New York. Although Herr had

described Vietnam as “the happy

childhood none of us ever had,” he had

also written of the aftermath when “it

seems the dead have only been spared

a lot of pain.”

When a friend at UPI called up to

tell me they’d been captured, I blurted

out: “I wish to hell I were with them.”

You could not grieve for them as you

would for others lost in the war. They

were there because they wanted to be

there; and they were fully aware of

the dangers that took their lives.

Their images will live on in that

last photograph of them alive and

young and setting off on yet another

adventure. There’s Sean on his

motorcycle, dressed in the latest

shades from Paris, a floppy jungle hat,

T-shirt, cut-off shorts and flip flops as

he set off to die.

Perry Deane Young is the author of Two of the

Missing, Remembering Sean Flynn and Dana Stone

Sean and Dana drove around a Communist roadblock and into

enemy territory

97

the

North korea's capital, pyongyang, is one of the most secretive

places on earth. Charlie crane

photographs a city trapped in time

98

THE SURREAL WORLD

This is the shooting range where Kim

Jong Su – who won a silver medal in the

2004 Olympics in Athens – perfected

her ability. You can use pistols here – low

calibre sports weapons, not the guns used

by the army. Ho Sung Ae is pictured. She

has been working at the shooting range

for six years. She served in the Korean

People’s Army for three years and was

selected for her good shooting skills. She

often gets 30 marks with three shots,

the maximum possible. She is working

towards becoming a shooting teacher but

is now 28 and so will soon be married.

99

This is the playground of Moranbang

Middle School. The main building has

six floors and all subjects are taught

here, including English, which everyone

must study. School starts at 8am and

ends at 1pm. After-school activities take

place in the afternoon. Children go to

school from age six to sixteen, and then

usually to university or to the army. On

top of the block of flats is the slogan

‘Independence, Peace and Friendship’,

which is lit up at night.

100

THE SURREAL WORLD

This is one of the reading rooms in

the Grand People’s Study House and

the guide is Mrs He. The Great Leader

Kim Il Sung designed the desks for the

people so that they are tilted, to aid the

reader. The Study House has more than

600 rooms for study. There are lecture

rooms, recording rooms and consulta-

tion rooms where people can speak with

experts on certain subjects. The building

can contain more than 12,000 people.

This is An Gyeung Ae, 25, who is a sales

girl at the shop, which is an outlet for

musical instruments, sculptures, fine art

and ginseng. She has worked there for three

years. The ginseng tea is very popular with

tourists from South Korea, while Western

tourists prefer brass chopsticks and bowls

and small cloth Korean dolls.

THE SURREAL WORLD

102

This is Kim Chun Hyo, who is on a break

from classes. He is wearing the standard

school uniform with the school badge. Each

badge has the name of the school written

on it under the Juche flame. When he is

older he would like to play basketball or be a

footballer. He is trying to get good grades to

get into the Sports College.

104

THE SURREAL WORLD

105

Our metro station is the deepest in

the world at more than 100 metres

below ground. We have two lines that

run all across the city and you just

pay for one ticket to go anywhere. As

you can see, we don’t have any litter

or damage in the metro. The citizens

are very proud of the metro and take

good care of it. The mural at the end

is of our Great Leader Comrade Kim Il

Sung among the workers.

Charlie Crane teamed up with

Nick Bonner of Koryo Tours in 2007

to produce the book, Welcome to

Pyongyang, published by Chris Boot.

The captions are from the guide who

showed Charlie around the city.

www.charliecrane.com

www.koryogroup.com

106

ILLU

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| W

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107

STYLE • MAPPEDBOBBA FETT AND CHEWIE SHOW US HOW TO SPACE TRAVEL IN THE FINEST THREADS

109

THE FUTURE

IS GREENEMIRATES PUBLISHES

ITS ENVIRONMENTAL

REPORT

P114

BRIEFINGwolgan bliss P. 12O route map P. our fleet

110

EMIRATES NEWS FEATURE

SET AT THE FOOT OF A CANYON IN

Australia’s Blue Mountains World

Heritage area, the Wolgan Valley

Resort & Spa is showing the world

that the concept of ‘luxury with a

conscience’ does exist.

The Emirates-run resort is situated

on the 4,000 acre Wolgan Valley

Conservation Reserve, but despite

its 40 free-standing luxury suites it

covers a mere two per cent of the land,

allowing 98 per cent to be explored.

“Being situated in the spectacular

Wolgan Valley, we set out to take the

idea of luxury holidays in Australia to

a new level,” says Joost Heymeijer, the

resort’s General Manager. “We wanted

to offer people a luxurious getaway

based on the idea of ‘luxury with a

conscience’ – a place that offers first-

class service but not at the cost of its

conservation credentials.”

And credentials it has aplenty — the

resort was the first in the world to gain

a carboNZero accreditation within just

three months of opening — ensuring

not only that it is carbon-neutral

but also that it actively protects

its surrounding habitat. For the

second year in a row, the resort has

maintained its carbon neutral status

following a carboNZero recertification.

Based on principles of its sister hotel,

the Al Maha Desert Resort & Spa, in

Dubai, the Wolgan Valley resort uses

its natural location to maximise its

luxury appeal to guests.

“You can get your own luxury

country suite with a private pool,

hundreds of acres of wilderness

and some of the best views in the

country,” says Heymeijer.

“People like to come here to get

away from the city.” says Heymeijer.

“Wolgan is about the things you

don’t have to do, but there is plenty

on offer should guests want to get

about and enjoy the reserve — from

horse riding to wildlife safaris,

to learning about Australia’s

colonial history by exploring their

1832 heritage homestead and

kitchen gardens.

Heymeijer says that Emirates run

the resort very much as ‘custodians’

of the land. “We are serious about

our commitment to the land and its

aboriginal heritage, We are not the

original owners of the land, which is

why we take care of it.”

THE VALLEY OF KINGS

We take care of the land the resort is on

EMIRATES

LAUNCHES DAILY

FLIGHTS TO

DUBLIN FROM JANUARY

2012

Emirates Grand Hotel is an elegant four-star

property located on Sheikh Zayed Road in the

heart of Dubai, with a panoramic view of

Dubai and Burj Khalifa, the tallest tower in the

world. Just 100 metres from Dubai International

Finance Centre (DIFC) and the metro station,

it’s within easy walking distance from the

Dubai International Convention Centre and the

World Trade Center. Being 15 minutes away

from Dubai International Airport, the property

is at the centre of Dubai’s business district.

$150 starting rate. Terms and conditions apply.

Please contact our reservation of ce -

Tel: 04-3230000 or email us at:

[email protected]

100

15

150

04 3230000

reservations@emiratesgrandhotel .com

P.O. Box 116957, Dubai, United Arab Emirates Tel: +971 4 323 0000 | Fax: +971 4 323 0003 | [email protected] | www.emiratesgrandhotel.com

Grand hospitality

Grand SPA

Panorama Restaurant

Executive Room

Outdoor Pool

Receive in-depth Regional and International news coverage twice a day with a morning and evening edition on your iPad. The very best editorial content, top stories, feature articles and expert analysis. Exclusive bonus editorial content from our wide range of magazines

featuring everything from lifestyle to sports and fashion to business. It's the next intelligent choice.

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114

EMIRATES NEWS ENVIRONMENT

YEARS IT TOOK FOR THE POPULATION TO

GROW FROM SIX TO SEVEN BILLION

1211

THE NUMBER OF AEROSPACE COMPANIES

FORMING THE NEW INTERNATIONAL

AEROSPACE ENVIRONMENTAL GROUP (IAEG)

GREENWEBENVIRONMENTAL REPORT

AS THE EMIRATES GROUP PUBLISHES

its environmental report, it is clear that

being green is a key priorty.

Covering areas such as fuel

efficiency to the world’s first

paperless cargo flight, the

results from the Emirates Group

Environmental Report 2010-2011

demonstrates just how widespread its

environmental commitment is.

The audited

report covered

environmental

performance

across a range

of activities,

including airline

operations,

dnata’s cargo and

ground handling

business and

commercial activities

such as engineering and catering.

One of the most impressive results

was the airline’s carbon dioxide

emissions efficiency rate – 26 per

cent better than the global average.

However, environmental issues

are not limited purely to fuel

efficiency. In March 2011, Emirates’

SkyCargo division successfully

oversaw the world’s first 100

per cent paperless cargo

flight. The e-flight

saw a shipment of

103,884 tonnes

of cut flowers

flown from

Nairobi to

Amsterdam,

with the

shipment

details being sent

electronically.

MUST FOLLOW:

@ECOPOLITOLOGIST Tim Hurst is a

writer and editor at Green Options and

Ecopolitology. His tweets cover a broad

spectrum of green subjects.

@NATURE_ORG The official site of a

leading conservation organisation: Nature

Conservancy.

@GRIST Andrew Winston is an

environmental strategist and author of

Green Recovery and co-author of Green

to Gold.

GREEN LIFESTYLE TIPS:

@GREENSTERTRIBE Louis Fruchier and

the tribe, keeping you afloat with the

inside track on modern eco-culture.

Here is a list of some of the most

influential and active tweeters

who are going green online.

DUNG BEETLE

‘Bio-Bug’, a car that

runs on human waste,

has been developed

by a team of British

engineers. The VW

Beetle is powered by

a biofuel derived from

methane gas and is

the first of its kind.

GREEN GENIE

This helpful little

smartphone app

suggests more than

100 green projects to

tackle, such as bringing

your own shopping

bags to ways to get

paid for reducing

your emissions.

BONN CHANCE

A new global effort

to restore 150 million

hectares of deforested

and degraded land by

2020 has been launched.

The Bonn Challenge

builds on a global

assessment that over two

billion hectares

of the world’s deforested

lands are available

for restoration. The

programme, headed by

the former Prime Minister

of Sweden, Goran Persson,

claims that in addition to

helping the environment,

it will also help create jobs.

15% THE AVERAGE

DECREASE IN NOISE

FOOTPRINT IN EACH

NEW GENERATION

OF AIRCRAFTSOURCE: WWW.ENVIRO.AERO

SOURCE: WWW.ENVIRO.AERO

SOURCE: WWW.ENVIRO.AERO

SMART TRAVELLER

REHYDRATE WITH WATER OR JUICES FREQUENTLY.

DRINK TEA AND COFFEE IN MODERATION.

LOOSEN CLOTHING, REMOVE JACKET AND

AVOID ANYTHING PRESSING AGAINST YOUR BODY.

CARRY ONLY THE ESSENTIAL ITEMS THAT

YOU WILL NEED DURING YOUR FLIGHT.

EXERCISE YOUR LOWER LEGS AND CALF

MUSCLES. THIS ENCOURAGES BLOOD FLOW.

APPLY A GOOD QUALITY MOISTURISER TO

ENSURE YOUR SKIN DOESN’T DRY OUT.

CABIN AIR IS DRIER THAN NORMAL THEREFORE

SWAP YOUR CONTACT LENSES FOR GLASSES.

TO HELP YOU ARRIVE AT YOUR

destination feeling relaxed and

refreshed, Emirates has developed

this collection of helpful travel tips.

Regardless of whether you need to

rejuvenate for your holiday or be

effective at achieving your goals on

a business trip, these simple tips will

help you to enjoy your journey and

time on board with Emirates today.

IN THE AIR

BEFORE YOU R JOU RNEY

CONSULT YOUR DOCTOR BEFORE

TRAVELLING IF YOU HAVE ANY

MEDICAL CONCERNS ABOUT

MAKING A LONG JOURNEY, OR IF YOU

SUFFER FROM A RESPIRATORY OR

CARDIOVASCULAR CONDITION.

PLAN FOR THE DESTINATION – WILL

YOU NEED ANY VACCINATIONS OR

SPECIAL MEDICATIONS?

GET A GOOD NIGHT’S REST BEFORE

THE FLIGHT.

EAT LIGHTLY AND SENSIBLY.

AT THE AIR PORT

ALLOW YOURSELF PLENTY OF TIME

FOR CHECK-IN.

AVOID CARRYING HEAVY BAGS

THROUGH THE AIRPORT AND ONTO

THE FLIGHT AS THIS CAN PLACE THE

BODY UNDER CONSIDERABLE STRESS.

ONCE THROUGH TO DEPARTURES TRY

AND RELAX AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.

DURING THE FLIGHT

CHEWING AND SWALLOWING WILL

HELP EQUALISE YOUR EAR PRESSURE

DURING ASCENT AND DESCENT.

BABIES AND YOUNG PASSENGERS

MAY SUFFER MORE ACUTELY

WITH POPPING EARS, THEREFORE

CONSIDER PROVIDING A DUMMY.

GET AS COMFORTABLE AS

POSSIBLE WHEN RESTING AND

TURN FREQUENTLY.

AVOID SLEEPING FOR LONG PERIODS

IN THE SAME POSITION.

W HEN YOU ARR IV E

TRY SOME LIGHT EXERCISE OR READ

IF YOU CAN’T SLEEP AFTER ARRIVAL.

DRINKPLENTY OF WATER

MAKE YOURSELFCOMFORTABLE

WEAR GLASSES

TRAVELLIGHTLY

KEEPMOVING

USE SKINMOISTURISER

116

EMIRATES NEWS COMFORT

118

EMIRATES NEWS CUSTOMS & VISAS

All passengers arriving into the

US need to complete a CUSTOMS

DECLARATION FORM. If you are travelling

as a family this should be completed

by one member only. The form must be

completed in English, in capital letters,

and must be signed where indicated.

The IMMIGRATION FORM I-94 (Arrival

/ Departure Record) should be

completed if you are a non-US citizen

in possession of a valid US visa and

your final destination is the US or

if you are in transit to a country

outside the US. A separate form

must be completed for each person,

including children travelling on their

parents’ passport. The form includes a

Departure Record which must be kept

safe and given to your airline when you

leave the US.

If you hold a US or Canadian

passport, US Alien Resident Visa

(Green Card), US Immigrant Visa or a

valid ESTA (right), you are not required

to complete an immigration form.

TO US CUSTOMS & IMMIGRATION FORMS

CABIN

CREW WILL BE

HAPPY TO HELP

IF YOU NEED

ASSISTANCE COMPLETING THE FORMS

WHETHER YOU’RE TRAVELLING TO, OR THROUGH, THE UNITED

States today, this simple guide to completing the US customs

and immigration forms will help to ensure that your journey

is as hassle free as possible. The Cabin Crew will offer you two

forms when you are nearing your destination. We provide

guidelines below, so you can correctly complete the forms.

CUSTOMS DECLARATION FORM IMMIGRATION FORM

119

2350THE NUMBER OF SPECIAL MEALS THAT CAN BE ORDERED TO MEET

RELIGIOUS AND MEDICAL DIETARY NEEDS:

THE NUMBER OF LANGUAGES SPOKEN BY EMIRATES CABIN CREW:

AD80 mm wide x 224 mm high

ELECTRONIC SYSTEM FOR

TRAVEL AUTHORISATION (ESTA)

IF YOU ARE AN INTERNATIONAL

TRAVELLER WISHING TO ENTER

THE UNITED STATES UNDER THE

VISA WAIVER PROGRAMME,

YOU MUST APPLY FOR

ELECTRONIC AUTHORISATION

(ESTA) UP TO 72 HOURS PRIOR

TO YOUR DEPARTURE.

ESTA FACTS:

CHILDREN AND

INFANTS REQUIRE AN

INDIVIDUAL ESTA.

THE ONLINE ESTA SYSTEM

WILL INFORM YOU WHETHER

YOUR APPLICATION HAS BEEN

AUTHORISED, NOT AUTHORISED

OR IF AUTHORISATION

IS PENDING.

A SUCCESSFUL ESTA

APPLICATION IS VALID

FOR TWO YEARS, HOWEVER

THIS MAY BE REVOKED OR

WILL EXPIRE ALONG WITH

YOUR PASSPORT.

APPLY ONLINE AT WWW.CBP.GOV/ESTA

NATIONALITIES ELIGIBLE

FOR THE VISA WAIVER*:

ANDORRA, AUSTRALIA,

AUSTRIA, BELGIUM, BRUNEI,

CZECH REPUBLIC, DENMARK,

ESTONIA, FINLAND, FRANCE,

GERMANY, HUNGARY, ICELAND,

IRELAND, ITALY, JAPAN, LATVIA,

LIECHTENSTEIN, LITHUANIA,

LUXEMBURG, MALTA, MONACO,

THE NETHERLANDS, NEW

ZEALAND, NORWAY, PORTUGAL,

SAN MARINO, SINGAPORE,

SLOVAKIA, SLOVENIA, SOUTH

KOREA, SPAIN, SWEDEN,

SWITZERLAND AND THE

UNITED KINGDOM**.

* SUBJECT TO CHANGE

** ONLY BRITISH CITIZENS QUALIFY UNDER THE VISA WAIVER PROGRAMME.

EMIRATES NEWS ROUTE MA P

120

ROUTE MAP EMIRATES NEWS

121

EMIRATES NEWS ROUTE MA P

122

AD

123

ROUTE MAP EMIRATES NEWS

THE FLEET OUR FLEET CONTAINS

162 PLANES. MADE

UP OF 153 PASSENGER

PLANES AND 9

CARGO PLANES

For more information: www.emirates.com/ourf leet

125

EMIRATES NEWS FLEET GUI DEEMIRATES NEWS FLEET GU I DE

126

Boeing 777-300 Number of Aircraft: 12 Capacity: 364 Range: 11,029km Length: 73.9m Wingspan: 60.9m

Boeing 777-200LR Number of Aircraft: 10 Capacity: 266 Range: 17,446km Length: 63.7m Wingspan: 64.8m

Boeing 777-300ER Number of Aircraft: 60 Capacity: 354-442 Range: 14,594km Length: 73.9m Wingspan: 64.8m

Boeing 777-200 Number of Aircraft: 9 Capacity: 274-346 Range: 9,649km Length: 63.7m Wingspan: 60.9m

Boeing 777F Number of Aircraft: 3 Range 9,260km Length: 63.7m Wingspan: 64.8m

FLEET GUI DE EMIRATES NEWS

127

Airbus A340-300 Number of Aircraft: 8 Capacity: 267 Range: 13,350km Length: 63.6m Wingspan: 60.3m

Airbus A380-800 Number of Aircraft: 17 Capacity: 489-517 Range: 15,000km Length: 72.7m Wingspan: 79.8m

Airbus A340-500 Number of Aircraft: 10 Capacity: 258 Range: 16,050km Length: 67.9m Wingspan: 63.4m

Airbus A330-200 Number of Aircraft: 27 Capacity: 237-278 Range: 12,200km Length: 58.8m Wingspan: 60.3m

Boeing 747-400F/747-ERF Number of Aircraft: 4/2 Range 8,232km/9,204km Length: 70.6m Wingspan: 64.4m

AIRCRAFT NUMBERS AS OF 31/10 /2011

NEXT MONTH...

facebook.com/openskiesmagazine twitter.com/openskiesmagwww.openskiesmagazine.com

We head to Tokyo for our Japan issue. We will be bringing you the best of the country’s creative talents in a magazine produced from our very own Open Skies ‘suite’ in the heart of Tokyo. We will also

be wandering the streets armed with cameras, smartphones and laptops; if you see us, say hi. We will delve into Tokyo’s underworld, courtesy of Jake Adelstein, whose book, Tokyo Vice, is a searing portrayal of a crime reporter’s beat. We will also showcase some amazing photos of the country, from the snow monkeys of Nagano to the temples of Kansai. Japan has produced countless great writers and we will showcase one wonderful short story from a master of the trade. An issue with a difference, and a celebration of all things Japanese.

128

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The boundary breakingHTC EVO 3Dsmartphone

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CARTIER’S PASSION FOR DESIGN INNOVATION IS BROUGHT TO THE TRADITIONAL ROUND FACE WATCH.

THE EXTRA-FLAT BALLON BLEU DE CARTIER’S CURVED FORMS ARE AS SOPHISTICATED AS THEY ARE ORIGINAL:

THE SAPPHIRE-DECORATED CROWN AROUND WHICH THE DIAL ORBITS, FEATURES UNPRECEDENTED DETAILS.

ONCE AGAIN, CARTIER’S UNIQUE CREATIVITY TAKES A STEP FURTHER WITH DESIGN.

18K PINK GOLD 46 MM CASE. MANUFACTURE MECHANICAL MOVEMENT WITH MANUAL WINDING, CARTIER

CALIBRE 430 MC (21 JEWELS, 28,800 VIBRATIONS PER HOUR, 2.10 MM THIN). ALLIGATOR BRACELET.

Open Skies | October 2011

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