Singapore: This Article Has Not Been Authorized

By Lim Li Min
June 4, 2005
A trio of police officers
Christopher Wise
In an effort to draw tourists and industry, Singapore is trying to change its image -- and the international media has run many a story about how the "nanny state" is finally letting down its hair. But we prefer to admire Singapore for what it is, even if that's not the message the government wants to send.

What you'll find in this story: Singapore travel, Singapore culture, Singapore attractions, Singapore lodging, Singapore neighborhoods

Singapore is famous for micromanaging everything it can get its fussy, white-gloved hands on. Even its citizens' love lives: To correct falling birth rates, the government offered incentives to couples who have more than one baby, and launched an initiative called Romancing Singapore. There are jingles, a cake of the month, dating tips, and a pair of special fragrances created by local polytechnic students. Hers is floral; his is musky.

Romance is one thing, but vice is something else altogether. To boost tourism and foreign investment, the city-state--a 239-square-mile island off the southern tip of Malaysia--is chipping away at its rulebound culture. You can now dance on tables, attend gay parties, and buy Cosmopolitan magazine. In a refutation of Singapore's most infamous law, you are also allowed to buy gum.

Restrictions apply. The gum must be sugarless and therapeutic, and it's only available by prescription.

Singapore can talk about changing, but it is what it is: a former British colony that puts the stiffest, prissiest English nanny to shame. Would you want to live there? Perhaps not. But as a place to visit, Singapore has plenty to recommend it--and most of its charms are directly related to the efforts of the tough-love regime. For those who've toured Southeast Asia, the order and decorum are a refreshing change. And if you've never been to the region, Singapore is the perfect baby step.

1. It's remarkably green . . .

Thanks to a government program dating from the '60s, Singapore--a.k.a. the Garden City--is one of the world's greenest cities. There's a strict cap on the number of vehicles allowed on the island, and there are fees for driving in downtown zones. Compared with a place like Bangkok, where diesel-fume-belching tuk-tuks are everywhere, Singapore is literally a breath of fresh air. More than 5 percent of the island is reserved for nature, and there are many tree conservation areas, where laws govern the felling of any tree more than one meter in girth. The Sungei Buloh Wetland Reserve has real mangrove swamps, and the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve is Singapore's biggest tract of primary rain forest. Those who like nature with a wild streak should try the Night Safari, which is within the vast Singapore Zoological Gardens. It's a 99-acre zoo with 1,200 animals representing 110 species. Whether you take the tram or the walks--or ideally, both--the subtle lighting will help you spot striped hyenas and Malayan tapirs prowling close by.

2. And it's lickably clean

Singapore is beyond anal-retentive. Spitting is banned; first-time violators may be fined $611, while repeat offenders might find their picture published in the newspapers. (A far cry from Mumbai, where residents spit betel-nut juice on the streets, staining them bright red.) Littering is also verboten ($611 or community service), as is smoking in public places ($611). The subway stations could pass for hospitals, and even restrooms are ranked by cleanliness; high marks go to Caltex gas stations. Remember to flush or, yes, you may get fined up to $92.

3. Street food won't make you sick

The government has spent millions upgrading the "hawker centres," where all kinds of street food is sold. There are more than 120 centers--with a total of 16,000 stalls--all over the city. Ambience isn't the draw: Lighting is fluorescent, and stools and tables are plastic. But the centers are cleaner than a Caltex loo. Maxwell Road Food Centre, in the Chinatown area, typically gets the locals' vote for having the best food. Order the Hainanese chicken rice at stall 10, Tian Tian. Other worthwhile options are Newton Hawker Centre for hokkien mee (yellow noodles with stir-fried prawns), Chomp Chomp Hawker Centre for fish soup noodles, Lau Pa Sat in the evenings for beef and chicken satay, and Changi Village for nasi lemak (a coconut-rice dish with anchovy chili paste).

4. Everyone speaks English

The Speak Good English Movement, started by the government and led by citizens, encourages the use of proper English (as opposed to "Singlish," Singapore's colloquial twist on English), as is clear from the bossy posters all around town. What's more, street signs are in English, as are most menus at hawker centers.

5. Preservation isn't a dirty word

Unlike other cities--Beijing, for instance, has been relentlessly demolishing its past--Singapore has kept vast tracts of its old architecture intact. At last count, there were 67 conservation areas involving more than 6,400 buildings. Spend a morning wandering around Chinatown, exploring the Straits Chinese and Victorian shophouses--multistoried buildings with five-foot-long walkways and colorful tiles. If you're lucky, the saloon-style doors will swing open to reveal three-generation families, kids doing their homework on mother-of-pearl Ching Dynasty furniture, or the aroma of frying ginger. For background on how the Chinese got to Singapore, visit the Chinatown Heritage Centre. Its three linked shophouses were once the lodgings of immigrants, whose tiny living quarters have been faithfully re-created. Original lodgers have been interviewed on video; their stories are touching testimonies of sheer grit. Then try the fragrant bak kuah barbecued-pork slices at the stalls on New Bridge Road or the frog porridge at Tiong Shian Porridge Centre. As you meander you'll come across traditional clan houses decorated with plaques of Chinese couplets. Indoors, elderly men will be playing mah-jongg.

One of Singapore's loveliest up-and-coming neighborhoods is Kampong Glam, home to Arab, Yemeni, and Pakistani traders since Sir Stamford Raffles founded the city in 1819. Men step out of the area's Moorish mosque, the 1928 Masjid Sultan on Muscat Street, in songkok (skullcaps) and sarongs. At night the area glows softly with the lights from Moroccan-style tea shops, and the air is sweet with smoke from water pipes. Recently given a face-lift, it's packed with two-story shops selling fabrics, dates, spices, and perfumes. Drop by Samar restaurant for a karkedeh (an Egyptian hibiscus beverage), but skip the food. After this, there's still the neighborhoods of Katong and Joo Chiat, with their Technicolor Peranakan houses to explore. At the Katong Antique House, Peter Wee, who lives in part of the building, will take you on a tour.

6. It's safe

In 2003, there were just 201 fatal car accidents. Taxi drivers are honest, and mostly polite. (You can't say that about New York.) Some taxis even have warning bells that go off if the taxis go over the speed limit on freeways. You probably won't get mugged either: "Snatch thefts" decreased by 4.4 percent in 2003, from 405 to 387. And women wearing tank tops can walk down the street unmolested, unlike in Malaysia or India.

7. Even the housing projects are nice

While you might take a pass on a visit to the housing projects of Chicago, consider that 84 percent of Singapore's 4.24 million citizens reside in the government's cookie-cutter Housing and Development Board flats. Venture into the HDB heartlands--Bedok, Ang Mo Kio, and Toa Payoh--for a glimpse of the everyday Singapore. At the heart of each one, you'll find neat town hubs with shops, food stalls, and locals at their most relaxed--kids in crisp school uniforms, seniors doing tai chi at dawn. Note: These shopping centers often have the best bargains.

8. There's support for the arts

Singapore aspires to be the region's arts and entertainment center. Just look at Exhibit A: The Esplanade. (Its full name is The Esplanade--Theatres on the Bay, but the government has yet to insist that anyone actually call it that.) Completed in 2002 at a cost of $368 million, the Esplanade looks like a giant hedgehog with silver spikes. Locals love it or hate it--they call it the Durian, after a smelly, indigenous fruit--but it's hard to argue with the fact that Singapore clearly makes the arts a priority. You can catch anything from Broadway acts to Yo-Yo Ma recitals at the 1,600-seat concert hall (many events are free; tickets for paying events start at $12). Another example of commitment to the arts is The Arts House at the Old Parliament, in the Empress Place neighborhood. Once the Parliament House, this handsome 1827 neo-Palladian building consists of seven venues, including a cinema and a gallery. In the former debating chamber, people on guided tours line up to pose for photos in a certain front-row seat. As the brass nameplate on the back points out, the leather chair belongs to Lee Kuan Yew, former prime minister and founding father. Lee Kuan Yew's son, Lee Hsien Loong, is the current prime minister, and the man behind many of the recent quality-of-life advances.

9. They take shopping seriously

Truth be told, only two thirds of the Durian is a dedicated arts venue--the other third houses yet another shopping mall. It's no surprise: Shopping is a national pastime and is pushed hard by the tourism board. Last year, 23,000 shops participated in an annual eight-week event called the Great Singapore Sale (this year, May 27-July 24). More than 91,000 foreign tourists bought package trips to visit the sale. Stores mark down just about everything, and, as always, tourists can get a refund of the 5 percent sales tax at the border on receipts of more than $184. Generally, however, prices have gone stratospheric since the '70s, when shopping was cheap and cheerful. Electronics and computers can still be a pretty good bargain, if you know your stuff. Where to go: Sim Lim Tower, Sim Lim Square, and Funan the IT Mall. Orchard Road is block after block of glitzy megamalls. There's funky clothing at The Hereen and Far East Plaza. Even if you're not in the market for anything, walking down Orchard Road can be quite fun: It's shady, and there are lots of benches when you want to rest. For Indian merchandise, try Punjab Bazaar at the Little India Arcade on Serangoon Road, and the popular Roopalee Fashions for beaded bags starting from $18. Chinatown's People's Park Complex is the place for ginseng and Chinese silks--and a reflexology treatment for your aching feet. For Tang Dynasty statue reproductions and Chinese furniture, visit Home of 100 Happiness.

10. And they are loosening up

Most foreigners expect Singapore bars to be dishwater dull. Not so. Whereas Bangkok is positively cracking down on nightlife, Singapore recently established 24-hour licensing laws in some areas, meaning the bars never close. The Tiger beer is served round the clock at Boat Quay, an area of converted shophouses (from which Singapore's forefathers traded and plied the muddy Singapore River for work). The Chocolate Bar is the hot place for the no-longer-illegal tabletop dancing. Of course, all that drinking tends to also make for lots of retching kids, and nearby Clarke Quay might be a more appealing option. Other happening areas and venues include Mohamed Sultan Road, Club Street in Chinatown (a fancy row of watering holes--dress up and head straight for Aphrodisiac), the Liquid Room at the Gallery Hotel at Robertson Quay (which attracts style mavens and the pink dollar--remember, gay parties have just been permitted), and Attica at Clarke Quay. The city's most famous nightclub continues to be Zouk, where brand-name international DJs come to spin. And the neighborhoods of Empress Place and Emerald Hill draw older, more sophisicated crowds.

Best of all, getting back to your hotel is never much of a problem, what with the negligible crime rates and plentiful taxis. Do bear in mind that most cabs' fares increase by 50 percent after midnight. Could it be because the nanny state wants to give you an incentive to get a good night's sleep?

Singapore is genuinely multiethnic

Chinese form 77 percent of the population, Malays 14 percent, and Indians 8 percent. It makes for an interesting place in many ways, especially culinarily. There's straightforward ethnic food: For Chinese, eat at Crystal Jade Kitchen and Just Greens Vegetarian Food; for Malay, go to Kampong Glam's Kandahar Street and the Geylang neighborhood for mom-and-pop outlets; for Indian, seek out the Ananda Bhavan restaurant. Even more fascinating are the many fusion cuisines, like that of the Peranakan community (descendants of intermarried Chinese and Malays) and the Mamaks (Indian Muslims). One savory Peranakan (a.k.a. Nonya or Baba) dish is babi pongteh, a mix of pork, shallots, soybean paste, and garlic. Nonya is really popular now, especially as traditional Peranakan areas such as Katong and Joo Chiat become gentrified. Murtabak, a flatbread filled with onion and minced beef, is a staple at every street stall, or go to Nonya restaurants such as the Blue Ginger or Chilli Padi. Afterward, sip a teh tarik: A strong tea strained through muslin and poured back and forth from a great height, it's Singapore's equivalent of a cappuccino frothed by hand.

Lodging

  • Hotel 1929 011-65/6347-1929, hotel1929.com, from $79
  • Gallery Hotel 011-65/6849-8686, galleryhotel.com.sg, from $97
  • The Royal Peacock 011-65/6223-3522, royalpeacockhotel.com, from $52
  • Maxwell Road Food Centre South Bridge at Maxwell Rd.
  • Newton Hawker Centre Near the Newton MRT stop
  • Chomp Chomp Hawker Centre 20 Kensington Park Rd.
  • Lau Pa Sat 18 Raffles Quay
  • Changi Village Blk. 2, Changi Village Rd.
  • Crystal Jade Kitchen 350 Isetan Scotts, 011-65/6738-0733
  • Just Greens 283 New Bridge Rd., 011-65/6222-2039
  • Ananda Bhavan 95 Syed Alwi Rd., 011-65/6296-7659
  • Blue Ginger 97 Tanjong Pagar Rd., 011-65/6222-3928
  • Chilli Padi 11 Joo Chiat Pl., 011-65/6247-9531
  • Tiong Shian Porridge Centre 265 New Bridge Rd., 011-65/6221-1596
  • Samar 60 Kandahar St., 011-65/6398-0530
  • Sungei Buloh 301 Neo Tiew Crescent, 011-65/6794-1401, sbwr.org.sg
  • Bukit Timah 177 Hindhede Dr., 011-65/6468-5736, nparks.gov.sg
  • Singapore Zoological Gardens 011-65/6269-3411, nightsafari.com.sg, $11, tram $4
  • Chinatown Heritage Centre 48 Pagoda St., 011-65/6325-2878, chinatownheritage.com.sg, $5.50
  • Katong Antique House 208 E. Coast Rd., 011-65/6345-8544, by appointment
  • The Esplanade 011-65/6828-8222, esplanade.com
  • The Arts House 1 Old Parliament Ln., 011-65/63-32-6900, theartshouse.com.sg
  • Sim Lim Tower 10 Jalan Besar, 011-65/6294-0590
  • Sim Lim Square 1 Rochor Canal, 011-65/6332-5839
  • Funan the IT Mall 109 N. Bridge Rd., 011-65/6337-4235
  • The Hereen 260 Orchard Rd., 011-65/6733-4725
  • Far East Plaza 14 Scotts Rd.
  • Punjab Bazaar Little India Arcade, 48 Serangoon Rd., 011-65/6296-0067
  • Roopalee Fashions 84 Serangoon Rd., 011-65/6298-0558
  • People's Park Complex 1 Park Rd., 011-65/6536-9533
  • Home of 100 Happiness 202 S. Bridge Rd., 011-65/6225-6955
  • Chocolate Bar 77 Boat Quay, 011-65/6533-5150
  • Aphrodisiac 47C Club St., 011-65/6323-1043
  • Liquid Room 76 Robertson Quay, 011-65/6887-5305
  • Attica 3A River Valley Rd., 011-65/6333-9973
  • Zouk 17 Jiak Kim St., 011-65/6738-2988
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    Inspiration

    Sierra Gold Country

    With a flick of the reins, the driver urged his sturdy horses into a gallop as the lumbering old stagecoach approached an incline in the dusty road ahead. Bouncing behind him, my wife, Sandy, and I grabbed the edge of our hardwood seats and held on tightly. "Keep your eyes open," the driver shouted over the rackety din. "We might run into bandits around the next bend." And, sure enough, we did. Stagecoach? Bandits? What's going on here? As excited as kids, we were reliving the romance of the 1849 California Gold Rush. Stagecoaches like the one to which we clung once linked the mining camps that sprang up in the rugged foothills of the Sierra Nevada. The rare chance to ride in an authentic coach was just one historical episode among many in our four-day, 540-mile drive into Gold Country. Though some forty-niners struck it rich, you won't need a bag of nuggets to explore the region, which has become a popular weekend retreat for folks from the nearby San Francisco Bay Area. This is good budget travel territory, where appealing lodgings and Old West-style caf,s come at affordable prices. Much of what you will want to see and do is free-or almost so. Speaking of nuggets, many visitors still pan for gold in the rushing streams that cascade out of the Sierras. And with a quick lesson in the art of handling the pan-offered throughout Gold Country-you might go home with a bit of gold dust, a nugget, or even your own bonanza. California still mines millions of dollars of gold annually. But panning is hard work; I know firsthand. For less-demanding fun: Go white-water rafting; tour a former gold mine; view one of the world's largest gold nuggets (13 pounds); hike among giant sequoia trees; quaff a beer in an authentic miner's saloon; or sip (for free) the very fine wines of Amador County, where more than 20 wineries are clustered in the sunny hills just outside the town of Plymouth. Relics of the legendary quest for gold are everywhere on this very scenic drive-in the crumbling stone walls of a former Wells Fargo office or the rusting machinery of abandoned mines. But the principal vestiges of the colorful era are the onetime camps and boomtowns scattered about the hills wherever gold was discovered, some all but hidden now down shady country roads. Many became decaying ghost towns, but others have prospered from tourism, like Angels Camp, where Mark Twain was inspired to write The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County. The two once-rollicking towns of Columbia and Coloma (site of the first gold discovery) have been carefully preserved as state historic parks, where the Gold Rush story is excitingly told. The discovery had a profound impact on California and America, uniting the eastern seaboard with the vast western lands that had recently been won from Mexico. As you tour, count the easygoing history lesson as a value-added bonus of the drive. Getting started For us, Gold Country made an ideal add-on to a trip to San Francisco, getting us out of the city and into the quieter countryside. The San Francisco Bay Area's three major airports-San Francisco International, Oakland International, and San Jose International-are reasonably convenient to the drive. Airfares into Oakland and San Jose, served by Southwest Airlines, the nation's largest no-frills airline, tend to be cheaper. No discount airline currently flies into San Francisco. When we made our arrangements, the Internet showed seven car-rental agencies at Oakland's airport-including Budget (800/527-0700, budget.com), Thrifty (800/847-4389, thrifty.com), and Dollar (800/800-4000, dollar.com)-all offering a compact car for a week with unlimited miles for about $150. The main road threading Gold Country, California Route 49, is aptly dubbed the "Mother Lode Highway." Mostly two lanes and endlessly winding, it stretches 310 miles north from the foothill town of Oakhurst, just outside Yosemite National Park, to Vinton, north of Lake Tahoe. You may want to tackle the entire route, but I've shortened the itinerary to focus on the most historically interesting and scenic segment. (Lodging rates listed are for two people during summer high season.) Day one: On the road San Francisco to Mariposa, 215 miles One good reason to make Mariposa your first stop in Gold Country is that it still has the look of a frontier town that briefly lured fortune hunters from around the world. But the number one reason, I think, is to gaze in awe at the huge, 13-pound Fricot Nugget. One of the largest and finest specimens in the world, it was found in 1865 in the Middle Fork on the American River about 100 miles north. Value: about $1 million to $3 million-if you discount all historical worth. Imagine stumbling across it. Sort of makes you want to spend a little time panning on your own, no matter how strenuous. The crystalline nugget, bright and shiny, is displayed at the California State Mining and Mineral Museum (adults, $2), where exhibits provide a good introduction to gold-mining techniques. The first forty-niners sifted the rivers flowing down the western slopes of the Sierras for placer gold, flakes, and nuggets swept from the mountains as gravel by raging currents. By the mid-1850s, however, the easy gold was gone, and big investment money was needed to tunnel for the hard-rock gold that remained. To learn more about this aspect of the frantic gold quest, step into the museum's 175-foot-long simulated mine tunnel. It's so realistic, I sort of hurried through, fearful that the ceiling might cave in. Save time, too, for the Mariposa Museum and History Center ($3), which displays even more gold-mining artifacts, including a typical one-room miner's cabin, a giant freight wagon, and a stamp mill-a monster machine that crushed ore to particles of sand, releasing the gold from the quartz. Excerpts from miners' letters sent back home to family and friends detail the hardscrabble life in a mining camp. Details From San Francisco, take I-80 and I-580 east to I-5 south. At Gustine, head east on Route 140 via Merced to Mariposa. The stretch from Gustine to Merced cuts through the San Joaquin Valley, one of the world's most productive agricultural areas. In summer, sniff the rich scent of ripening fruit and vegetables. In Mariposa, stay at the eight-room Sierra View Motel (800/627-8439), $59; the 28-room E.C. Lodge Yosemite (209/742-6800), $69; or the 77-room Miner's Inn Motel (888/646-2244), $75. Dine at the Miner's Inn Motel; the barbecued-chicken plate is just $9.95. Information 888/554-9013, homeofyosemite.com. Day two: A Hollywood favorite Mariposa to Jackson, via Calaveras Big Trees State Park, 145 miles Just north of Mariposa, Route 49 plunges for about 50 miles into a mostly untouched land of deep canyons and rumpled hills blanketed by sunburned grass. Here and there cattle graze. Traffic is light, and providently so. At times, the road edges steep precipices, ultimately dropping down the side in ten-miles-per-hour hairpin turns. At Coulterville, detour briefly off the highway to stroll Main Street. The sleepy little village, where adobe structures dating back to 1851 still stand, calls itself "the most unspoiled Gold Rush town in California." Indeed. We turned into a parking space just off Main and flushed a covey of wild quail. Still a gold-mining town, Coulterville doesn't discourage the legend that "When it rains, sometimes you find gold in the streets." Jamestown, another Old West charmer, is a Hollywood star. It served as a backdrop for High Noon and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, as well as countless other movies and TV shows. Here, Railtown 1897 State Historic Park ($2 for a tour) re-creates turn-of-the-century mountain railroading. Its historic steam locomotives and cars claim title as "the movie railroad," having appeared in Little House on the Prairie and other TV shows and films. In Columbia State Historic Park catch a 12-minute ride ($5) into the piney woods on a stagecoach. But watch out for Trigger Mortis, who might pop out from behind a monster boulder. He's a not-so-threatening masked bandit easily talked out of robbing passengers of wallets, watches, chewing gum, and other valuables. At ride's end, parched from the sun and dust, we slaked our thirst at the Douglass Saloon, downing a mug of homemade sarsaparilla, on tap for $1. Gold was first discovered in the area in 1850, and in one month 6,000 fortune hunters arrived. Before the placer deposits ran out, Columbia produced about $87 million in gold, most of it weighed on the set of scales displayed in the Wells Fargo office. Unlike many early settlements, the town, which grew to 15,000 in its heyday, never succumbed to fire, vandalism, or the elements, nor was it ever completely deserted. The best preserved of the boomtowns, its oak-shaded Main Street, stretching four blocks, is lined with two- and three-story wood and brick buildings housing a mixture of museums and shops. Over-hanging balconies and wood sidewalks reflect the frontier heritage. At Matelot Gulch Mine Supply Store, sign up for a gold-panning lesson ($5) and learn for yourself that panning is harder than it looks. For the price, you get a pan and a packet of sand "salted" with a fleck of gold so you recognize what you are looking for. Dip the pan in water and swirl gently again and again, trusting that the gold, which is heavier than the silt, sinks to the bottom of the pan. From Columbia, continue on to Angels Camp, and then detour east here for 23 miles on Route 4 into the lofty Sierras. The goal is Calaveras Big Trees State Park ($2 per car) and its impressive stand of giant sequoia redwoods. To see them up close, take the easy one-and-a-half-mile hike on North Grove Trail, where some sequoias-the largest living things on earth-grow nearly 30 feet in diameter at the base. In 1852, a grizzly hunter stumbled into the grove; his was the Western world's first recorded glimpse of these magnificent trees. Like gold, they astonish those who lay eyes on them as yet another remarkable feature of California. En route back to Angels Camp, take a walk through Murphys, another former mining camp turned vibrant weekender's retreat, and then end your day in Jackson. On Main Street at California Street, we recently discovered Hein & Co., a huge warehouse of bargain-priced used books. We stuffed every pocket of our suitcases with the armful we carried away. Details From Mariposa, take Route 49 north to Jackson. The detour on Route 4 from Angels Camp to Calaveras Big Trees, 23 miles (each way), adds about two hours to your day if you hike the trail. Stay in Jackson at the 36-room Jackson Gold Lodge (209/223-0486), $55 weekdays/$65 weekends; or the 119-room Best Western Amador Inn (800/543-5221), $79 weekdays/$84 weekends. Dine on Mexican dishes with the locals at Jos,'s; the chile relleno plate, $9.95. Information 209/223-0350, amadorcountychamber.com. Day three: Where it all began Jackson to Auburn, 60 miles Don't let the short distance fool you; the day ahead is full. If you are in Jackson on a Saturday or Sunday, you can enjoy a leisurely breakfast before catching the 10 a.m. opening of the Kennedy Gold Mine ($9). It's reputed to have been the richest and deepest gold mine in California. Preserved as a museum of Gold Rush history, the above-ground structures-the mine office, the changing house, the dynamite storage shed, the stamp mill-can be seen on 90-minute escorted or self-guided tours. If the mine is closed, take Jackson Gate Road (Main Street extended) behind the mine to see the Kennedy Tailings Wheels, four massive, Ferris wheel-like structures (two standing, two collapsed) that once lifted tons of gravel over two hills. They are an especially photogenic relic. You can frame the hillside mine structures through the giant spokes of the standing wheel. In the town of Plymouth just ahead, look for Shenandoah Road, a turn to the right. It's the gateway to Amador County Wine Country, a cluster of more than 20 fine wineries with tasting rooms that don't charge a penny to sip. Their red zinfandels are said to be among the finest in the world. In summer, the rolling hills are traced by rows of vines hanging heavy with ripening grapes. We thought we were in Tuscany. And then, just ahead is Villa Toscano (209/245-3800, general information), a vineyard-encircled winery with a tasting room designed to look like an ancient Tuscan villa. Classical statues line the walkway and fountains splash in the garden. Even wine, we recently learned, has a link to forty-niner gold. Newly rich, the lucky miners spurred a new economy providing them with comfortable lodgings and fine dining. Soon enough, Gold Country boasted more wineries than the rest of the state. Justification enough, we figure, to stop at two more wineries before heading on. In a topsy-turvy way, you'll arrive at the site where the Gold Rush began-now the Marshall Gold Discovery State Historic Park ($4 per car) in Coloma-only near the end of the drive. No matter; you will have acquired the background to fully appreciate the significance of what happened here. In the 1840s, John Sutter was assembling an empire for himself in the nearby Sacramento Valley. He needed wood, so he went into partnership with James W. Marshall to build a sawmill in the Coloma Valley along the American River. The mill was almost complete when Marshall found his gold. Hordes scurried to Coloma, creating an overnight town of thousands. From Coloma, miners spread out to other streams and canyons north and south pursuing reports of other strikes. The rush was on. By 1857, however, the placer gold had given out, and Coloma became a quiet grape-growing town. Still quiet, much of Coloma is now incorporated into the park. In mid-summer, the American River, which slices through the preserve, draws big crowds to raft, wade, or swim in its rock-strewn channel. On the far shore, an area is set aside for recreational gold panning, and a park concessionaire provides lessons. "Does anyone ever find gold?" I recently asked John Hutchinson, a senior park aide. "Some do," he said, "if they work hard enough and long enough." On occasion, he has scored a bit of gold himself. Though a swim is tempting, Sandy and I set out dutifully to walk the park's interpretive trail, which follows the shoreline. A replica of Marshall's sawmill sits back from the water next to a weathered cabin used by his workmen. Further on, the trail turns abruptly toward the river's edge. On a gravelly bank behind a sheltered backwater, we reached the discovery site. Except for a small sign, it's simply a riverbank. North of Coloma, Route 49 snakes through a rugged mountain realm, offering some of the most dramatic scenery on the drive. Initially, the road traces the American River, where white-water rafters go splashing past. Climbing high above a deep gorge, it suddenly tops a summit and then quickly descends into Auburn, one of California's prettiest little cities. Details Except for the wine-sampling detour in Plymouth, stick to Route 49. In Auburn, stay at the 52-room Super 8 (530/888-8808), $59 weekdays/$63 weekends; or the 57-room Motel 6 (530/888-7829), $62 weekdays/$68 weekends. Dine at Tio Pepe's Restaurant; the hefty taco plate includes taco, enchilada, burrito, tostadas, and rice and beans for $7.95. Information 530/887-2111, visitplacer.com. Day four: Auburn to San Francisco, 120 miles Return quickly to San Francisco on I-80 to catch your flight home. Or for more Gold Rush lore, continue north 130 miles on the Mother Lode Highway to its terminus at Vinton. Either way, you might reflect on this thought: A state-park ranger once told me that practically every inch of the streams and rivers of the Sierras has been worked for gold at one time or another. But more washes down from the mountains every spring, when melting snow turns placid streams into racing torrents. The lure of California gold may have diminished, but it is far from gone.

    Inspiration

    Jamaica's Other Side

    It's a tiny crowd that assembles on the rocky outcrop between bays--two young Peace Corps volunteers down from the mountains for the weekend, a middle-aged American couple who've been strolling arm in arm along the beach, and a Jamaican man who hiked down the hill from his villa. Chitchat halts as the sun sinks and clouds turn pyrotechnic on the horizon. So ends another perfect, indolent day on Jamaica's South Coast. There's more sun for the money on "the other side of the island," as Jamaicans call the 100-mile stretch from Savannah-la-Mar to Milk River. Nestled in the rain shadow of the country's central mountain range, the southwest corner of the island has a dry climate, uncrowded beaches, towering waterfalls, mysterious rivers-and some of the best food in the country. What it doesn't have are big resorts. Jamaica-bound Americans have long gravitated to resort developments in Montego Bay and Ocho Rios on the north side of the island, and Negril on the west, where they get a generic, sequestered experience of warm weather, a beach, and umbrella-garnished rum drinks. But when the already laid-back Jamaicans want to unwind, they choose the South Coast for bargain rates on an unspoiled Caribbean shore where locals treat you like family. Almost every casual conversation leads to the suggestion that you look up a relative in the States. Stop at the same coffee shop or restaurant three days in a row, and you'll get a big hug good-bye when you have to go home. Best of all, rooms on the beach start at $30 and you can feast on freshly caught fish for $6 or less. SuperClubs it ain't. Picking a base The South Coast sweeps through open sugarcane fields in the west to a wetlands wilderness at the midpoint. But the best place to base your visit is east of Black River, where the coastline is scalloped with small bays. The heart of this beach country is the four-mile stretch of fishing coves along Calabash, Frenchman's, and Billy's Bays known as Treasure Beach, more a region than a village. Not only do the soft, brown sand beaches have great swimming, body-surfing, and snorkeling, Treasure Beach is also ideally situated for exploring the villages and backcountry of this rural side of Jamaica. Calabash and Frenchman's Bays bustle with tiny restaurants and bars, and all four miles of the shore are dotted with villas, small hotels, and guesthouses. The premier bargain lodging on Frenchman's Bay-only a garden gate separates the property from the beach-is Golden Sands Guest House (876/965-0167, www.geocities.com/goldensandsguesthouse). Three single-story buildings hold 24 spartan but immaculate rooms, each fitted with an overhead fan, two twin beds, a dresser, and a bathroom with cold (actually cool) water. Simple white bed linens and towels are provided. Popular with the backpacking crowd, the shared kitchens let you economize by preparing your own meals. The monkish rooms are offset by flowering grounds, the sound of surf a few yards away, and a pleasant outdoor bar. Rooms for two are $30 per night. The sole one-bedroom cottage with air-conditioning and TV costs $60. The modern, family-run Sunset Resort Villa (800/786-8452, 876/965-0143, www.sunsetresort.com) offers many creature comforts on a budget. The crisply maintained, intimate complex of 12 air-conditioned rooms enjoys spectacular sunset views over the courtyard pool or from the outdoor tables of its accomplished, upscale restaurant (full meal, about $25). Room decor leans toward rich colors and floral prints, and most rooms have king- or queen-size beds with soft linens, high-grade mattresses, and abundant towels. Rooms for two start at $80 a night without breakfast. With 32 air-conditioned rooms, Treasure Beach Hotel (800/526-2422, 876/965-0110, www.treasurebeachjamaica.com) is both the area's largest lodging and a popular budget honeymoon getaway, especially for Jamaicans. Founded in the 1930s as a retreat for asthmatics, Treasure Beach Hotel, which overlooks the sea, has installed two large pools and a hot tub, and it has cultivated a wooded, tropical-garden landscape for guests who like to leave the rest of the world behind. The Frenchman's Bay beach is steps away. Published rates start at $99 to $110 for two in a garden-view room; ask about discounts for multinight stays. All the beaches of Treasure Beach are public, but they're hardly crowded. The coastline consists of long, sandy crescents punctuated by rocky outcrops. Moderate waves crest high enough for good bodysurfing, and coral reefs about 100 yards offshore make for colorful snorkeling. These are working beaches, and one corner of each cove is usually reserved for the fleet of 30-foot open fishing boats bobbing at the low-tide line with their tethers leading up the beach. There are no swim-up bars on Treasure Beach, but there are plenty of thatched-roof huts along the shore where you can order an icy Red Stripe and escape the sun under a palm tree. Some of the best dining is close enough to the water to feel the splash of the surf. Winsome's On the Beach (Frenchman's Beach, no phone) sets a high standard for casual cuisine with inventive twists on Jamaican classics such as fish soup for $1.80, callaloo (similar to spinach) fritters for $2, and chicken adobe (coconut milk-tomato-ginger sauce) or grilled kingfish in escovitch (pickled onions, peppers, and carrots), each only $6. Diners Delite (Treasure Beach Rd., no phone) serves country-style dishes, including saltfish and okra ($2.60), braised oxtail ($4.60), and chicken stew ($3.40). If you have a hankering for Jamaican jerk barbecue ($5.60 to $8), Chef Kit at Wild Onion (off Treasure Beach Rd., no phone) fires up the outdoor pits nightly, with live music on the weekends. Fish Fry and a Soak The dining and beachside social scene at Little Ochi (876/965-4450) lures even many Treasure Beach locals into driving an hour east to the fishing village of Alligator Pond. Select your own fish (priced by weight), then settle into a thatched hut or an old fishing boat on the beach. Dinner ($10 to $12) will be delivered to you, along with bammy (cassava bread), "festival" (cornmeal cake), and rice and peas. It's another 40 minutes east along the narrow coastal road to Alligator Hole, a broad pool in a river inhabited by three female manatees. You're most likely to see them in the afternoon when they come to feed at this idyllic spot. The mineral baths at Milk River Spa (Clarendon, 876/902-6902), 15 minutes farther east, were discovered in 1794. Like more famous spas (Bath, England, or Karlovy Vary/Karlsbad, Czech Republic, for example), Milk River touts the powers of its naturally radioactive waters, claiming that they cure "gout, rheumatism, neuralgia, sciatica, lumbago, nerve complaints generally, and liver disorders." In any event, a relaxing 15-minute soak in a private chamber costs $2, and you can also pamper yourself with a $4 manicure or a $24 full-body massage. On the way back to Treasure Beach, Lover's Leap, south of Southfield, marks the spot where a slave couple jumped to their deaths in 1747 rather than be separated from each other. Admission to the observation deck atop the 1,700-foot cliff is $3 ($2 under age 12) for a jaw-dropping view. Black River's Dark Heart People from all over the South Coast converge on the town of Black River, located just a half-hour drive west of Treasure Beach, to sell and shop at a huge open-air market. Once the center of Jamaica's logging industry, Black River has a couple of historic "great houses" that recall the island's days as a British colony-as in the old British saying, "Rich as a Jamaican planter." The waterway of Black River and its associated 125-square-mile swamp are natural wonders comparable to the Louisiana bayous or the Everglades. The Morass is home to more than 100 species of birds, mahogany and logwood forests, mangrove swamps-and Jamaica's greatest concentration of American saltwater crocodiles. To sneak up on the leathery behemoths dozing in the sun, take a cruise with wetlands biologist Lloyd Linton. His Irie Safari (12 High St., 876/965-2211, 876/384-7673) offers 90-minute tours on pontoon boats for $20 per person ($15 each for three or more). It's worth the splurge. Before you explore the pristine upper reaches of the river as it penetrates the Jamaican mountains, you might want to drive 20 minutes west to Whitehouse for a light lunch of conch fritters ($7) at Culloden Cafe (Hwy. A2, 876/963-5344), which serves gourmet Caribbean fare in a garden setting overlooking the water. Back on the main highway, tree-high grasses arch over the four-mile stretch of Bamboo Avenue. Couples sit in the shade selling coconuts, called "jelly coconuts," for less than a dollar each. Jamaicans say that drinking coconut water "washes the heart," but from Lacovia, you can follow the signs to the true Jamaican cure-all at Appleton Estate (876/963-9215), rum makers since 1749. The $12 admission charge ($6 under age 12) includes a tour of the process of turning sugarcane into fine, aged rums, a generous tasting, and a small souvenir bottle of rum, which should help soften your return home. As Jamaicans often say, "When you have troubles, don't cry--remember rum is standing by."

    Inspiration

    Learning to Love London

    What you'll find in this story: Lodon restaurants, London culture, London attractions, London bargains, London flea markets, London apartments After a season in the African outback, the homeward itinerary read Nairobi-Paris-London-New York, but I got seriously snagged in London: I fell in love! Not with London, but with a foxy French girl who was living there. We embarked on a whirlwind transatlantic romance, and six months later I found myself living in London--whereupon I promptly fell out of love. With London. It was the $15 chicken that did it. I'm not talking about a nicely prepared dish in a naked celebrity chef's restaurant, mind you, but a jaundiced-looking specimen from a local shop. Multiply £8.25 by the $1.80 exchange rate--which has since gone up to $1.88--and that's what you get. It was as if I'd been slapped upside the head with the thing, like a stooge in a vaudeville act. There's no way around it: London is pricey to begin with, even for Brits, but for those of us operating in good, old, depreciated Yankee dollars, it's almost twice the price. For just about everything. By simply deplaning with a resident visa in hand, my net worth had virtually halved. I reacted badly--went into a deep funk as I contemplated my new life as a pence-pinching coupon clipper. Unsurprisingly, the Foxy French Girl did not find the new, blue me very appealing, and the romance was in jeopardy. What did I do? What could I do? I resolved to learn to love London, to find a way to keep the romance alive. Not at all costs--because going broke isn't very sexy, either, and doesn't have a whole lot of future in it--but at costs nice middle-class people like us could afford. I consulted an expert, a lifelong Londoner who's an editor at a tourist magazine. She shared lots of insider tips and, just as important, two paradoxical truths about surviving and thriving in London on a budget. One: "You can do things cheaply, but you have to think about what you're doing." And two: "Sometimes you just have to forget about what things cost and get on with it." So I threw myself into the fray of that sprawling, higgledy-piggledy city, and the more I did, the more I found haughty ol' London to be accommodating, even generous. London knows it's too expensive and actually does something about it, doling out freebies and discounts on all sorts of attractions and cultural events. This is especially true in summer, when the historic streets and squares, the opulent parks, and the resurgent riverfront come alive with markets and festivals of so much street-theatrical entertainment value, it's as if the wildly animated spirit of a medieval fair had been updated and set loose on a citywide scale. The Foxy French Girl and I became eager tourists of the town we lived in, poring over the weekly Time Out magazine (bursting with listings that put New York City to shame), planning dates and outings and explorations. When we got home at night, happily exhausted, we'd keep the lights low and dance to Lou Reed's "Perfect Day": "Just a perfect day, problems left all alone/Weekenders on our own/It's such fun...." Romance was alive and well. Before very long at all, "Perfect Day" would be played as our wedding song. (Everybody say "Awww.") We live there no longer, but we'll always have London--and the precious baby boy who was born there. (Gimme a double "Awww.") So it is with great fondness and nostalgia for London Towne that I share one erstwhile expat's recent and thoroughly successful journey toward enjoying some of the best of what that great city has to offer, while keeping the expenses real in a town that's just too bloody expensive. To live in London without going to the theater would be like living in the Alps and not skiing, so that was an obvious point of entry. And when I learned that the National Theatre sells steeply discounted tickets to lots of shows for $19, I logged on to its website and signed up for e-mail alerts to on-sale dates so I could snatch up seats. Once a month, we'd attend a world-class production of a new or classic play for about the price of a movie ticket. Brilliant, as the Brits say. The National became our home base even when we didn't have tickets; it was always putting on free, high-quality music and theater in the lobby and outside by the Thames. We weren't the only ones: Londoners and tourists alike throng to the river's South Bank, a promenade that must be the most culturally rich boardwalk anywhere, with everything from skateboarding to classical music to mind-bending art installations. One of our more Perfect Days began at Borough Market, near London Bridge, a Friday and Saturday food extravaganza that has existed in some form since before the Roman era. After a pint of ale at the legendary Market Porter Pub, we grazed the stalls of the covered market, picking up various picnic supplies--serrano ham, focaccia, olives, and artisanal cheeses--and headed toward the river. There we had a quintessential London moment: Just after we passed by the 14th-century Westminster Hall, an amphibious Bond-mobile came skimming across the surface of the Thames. (As Austin Powers says, "Groovy, bay-beee.") Shakespeare's Globe, a replica of the Bard's artistic residence, spilled its matinee audience onto the riverside walk, where it mingled with the crowd emerging from the Tate Modern, a temple of contemporary art (admission is free, as it is at many of the major museums), and perhaps with patrons of the nearby Royal Festival Hall and the National Film Theatre. But the high-caliber street musicians and a bird act worthy of Ed Sullivan were pulling crowds as readily as the bastions of official culture. As usual, it was the National Theatre that captured us, with a café table available for our picnic, ringside of the amphitheater, where a troupe of young thespians performed a raucous entertainment. They were followed by a Congolese Soukous band that knew all about good vibes and how to spread them. As evening advanced, we were overwhelmed with choices--two discount plays and some sort of multimedia rave later on at the National, or the Japanese art-film festival next door--but we'd had enough. It was dusk, time to stroll across the Millennium Bridge, into the wide-open arms of Central London's cityscape. The more I resisted the reflexive urge to mentally convert pounds to dollars, the happier I became. Cruelly, the credit card company did it for me: It took me exactly one whopping monthly statement to realize that dining frequently in London's restaurants would quickly earn me enough miles for a return ticket to New York, alone and in debt. And thus we hatched the genius strategy of building excursions around days at the market, where comparatively inexpensive delicacies compete for attention. We cultivated our picnic technique in London's abundant and extremely well-appointed parks. When it was time to splash out, as they also say, we had to plan ahead or fall into the ever-present trap of an $80 pizza lunch or a perfectly mediocre $120 dinner for two. Our favorite park in Central London quickly became St. James's, between the Thames and Buckingham Palace, initially because we went there to neck on our first date, and thereafter because it offered a full menu of options. As with all the London parks, St. James's enjoys the rain dividend and the benefits of being in a land where the arts of gardening and landscaping are staples of prime-time television. The resulting bounty of luscious habitat is not lost on the bird population; some 47 species of waterfowl call the place home at one time or another, if you believe the placard next to the lake. Also on the lake is a wonderfully clever mixed-use restaurant, Inn the Park, catering to a clientele of businesspeople, ladies who lunch, and clued-in tourists. Modern but comfortably so, the Inn has pondside alfresco seating and a versatile brasserie menu. The beauty of the place is that it also provides exactly the same prime seating to consumers of take-out drinks, snacks, and meals from its organic sandwich and salad canteen. How very democratic. Being in a celebratory frame of mind--our first meal out with the baby, on the day we took him to the embassy to become officially American--I went for the splash-out option: gazpacho, oysters, steak, wine, dessert. Okay, it was not a cheap meal ($150), but it was an occasion. Afterward we sunbathed on canvas deck chairs of the kind provided in many of London's parks at the entirely reasonable fee of £1 apiece, and purred like a little lion family after a good feed. (Until our son erupted in an inconsolable, high-decibel crying jag, shattering the peace and quiet of the entire park, scattering cormorant, coot, and great-crested grebe alike.) Other of our most memorable meals took place before the arrival of the turbo-lunged one, in gastropubs. At its best, this category, indigenous to the Realm, represents a melding of two worlds: pubby atmosphere and an ambitious kitchen, with prices far lower than at comparable proper restaurants. "With this exchange rate, if I can't put it in my mouth, I'm not gonna buy it," said a visiting foodie friend, so I made sure we had a suitable dining destination on our day trip to the north of the city. As promised, Hampstead has oodles of English-village charm, despite its in-town location. Sidewalk planters on tiny lanes and mews overflowed with geraniums and impatiens in a way that seemed generous rather than self-conscious; the shops were lively with personality, refreshing in a town that can feel choked with dreary chains. And the Holly Bush provided everything we could have wanted for an early-summer-afternoon supper. Downstairs is a venerable pub, reliably dark and smoky inside, with a gang of bright young things quaffing pitchers of Pimm's Cup on the sidewalk. Upstairs, a light, high-ceilinged dining room serves a very British menu (sausages, lamb, meat pies) with adventuresome ingredients in the sauces and salads (and even some vegetarian options). The three of us had a wonderful meal, notable for the warm, easygoing vibe of the entire experience, which retained its nice afterglow even when the credit card company did the math ($126). To me, shopping for its own sake holds about as much allure as outpatient surgery--so it says something that I'd happily go with the Foxy French Girl through London's famous markets. Notting Hill's Portobello Road to the west and Spitalfields to the east are variations on a funky-chic theme, both awash in legions of fashion-aware young women with eyes set on original designs at bargain prices. And both markets are in cool neighborhoods, worth checking out even when it's not market day. Notting Hill is like New York City's Greenwich Village, boho-gone-upscale, with more in the way of collectible bric-a-brac that you buy when traveling because you simply won't find it elsewhere. Spitalfields is more heavily tattooed, with an accent on home and fashion accessories. It's also the gateway into the very "now" neighborhood of Shoreditch. This is the place to go cool-hunting for streetwear like limited-edition hip-hop sneakers that come with certificates of ownership proclaiming them to be "one of only 70 pairs worldwide." I'll pass on those, thanks--but it's fun to know they're there. These excursions were never really about the food or the shopping, anyway. They were about urban adventure. Yes, I was armed with clippings and guidebooks, but, in fact, that was all a matter of putting ourselves into position for the unexpected: We were never disappointed when we simply relaxed and let serendipity take over. London is endlessly rewarding that way. On the first of our many trips to Richmond--a posh movie set of a village on the Thames at the southwestern city limits--on our first picnic on the first weekend we ever spent together, we settled in for a nap under a tree by the river. We were joined by a group of Middle Eastern gentlemen and a few charming children, whose energy and volume levels were running a bit higher than our own. Before long, the senior member of the party loomed over us, and, in a courtly tone, said, "Good afternoon. We are from Baghdad, Iraq, and we would like to invite you to join us for some tea." Soon we were sipping minty chai from tiny glasses, toking cranberry-flavored tobacco from a hookah, and discussing world events at a time of fraught relations between our home countries. At least we were doing our part for world peace. Then talk turned to London. The éminence grise expounded a bit, as was his wont. London, he said, was the crossroads of the world, first because of traditional patterns of immigration from the Commonwealth, and more recently from the new waves of strivers flooding in daily from Eastern European nations being added to the EU. Furthermore, as one who had lived in the U.S. and France during his long exile, he was of the opinion that London was the business and creative capital of the world, here in the early years of the third millennium. The New Yorker in me recoiled reflexively, but now that I've lived there, I can't say he was wrong. London is all go, go, go these days; you can feel it everywhere. And when my boy is old enough to ask about where he comes from, I'll tell him, "Son, you are a child of the universe, your mother's a Foxy French Girl, your daddy's a Yank with itchy feet, and you were conceived at the end of a Perfect Day in the capital of the world." The first places to look for London deals General: Londontown.com is a comprehensive tourist site with lots of special offers on tickets, rooms, etc. It's particularly strong for attractions and events listings: Enter your dates and get a menu of what's happening, or click on the annual calendar. Visitlondon.com, the official tourist site, is promotional rather than critical, but also full of useful information. Dining: At squaremeal.co.uk, an authoritative restaurant site, you can search by neighborhood or ethnicity, browse readers' favorites, or just click on Best Gastropubs. Markets: Try Portobello Road, in Notting Hill, for antiques and clothing (portobelloroad.co.uk); Spitalfields for goods by young designers of fashion and home accessories (visitspitalfields.com); Borough Market, located near London Bridge, for food, glorious food (boroughmarket.org.uk). Theater: London Theatre Guide (officiallondontheatre.co.uk) provides one-stop shopping for the West End, including daily listings for its discount TKTS booth in Leicester Square. For the National Theatre, go to nationaltheatre.org.uk--and note in particular the $19 Travelex Season offerings and the summertime series of free events called Watch This Space. Transport: The Tube starts at $3.75 per ride, but the map is not to scale--walking may be quicker. And buses are cheaper ($2.25 per ride). Find info on both at tube.tfl.gov.uk. --D.H. Live like a local--by renting yourself a flat Apartments aren't cheap, but you'll get more space than at a hotel, and you'll save money if you eat some meals at home. (Restaurants may charge 10 percent less for take-out orders.) Apartments have compact kitchens with appliances, dishes, and utensils, and some throw in amenities like newspapers or Internet access. "Serviced apartments" come with daily maid and linen service, and generally rent by the night, while unserviced rentals tend to require a week's stay and include weekly cleaning. When renting, be sure the price includes the VAT of 17.5 percent and any charges for maid service. You can usually get a deal on stays of longer than a week. And if you require an air conditioner or elevator, ask: Not all older buildings have them. June and July are the most popular months, but everyone offers specials in the off-season. Emperor's gate apartments: Eighteen simple studios and one-bedrooms in two Victorian buildings near the Earl's Court and Gloucester Tube stations. Studios have Murphy and sofa beds, from $169 per night; one-bedrooms have twin or double beds and a sofa bed, from $188; service and VAT included. apartment-hotels.com Astons apartments: In three Victorian town houses on a South Kensington side street. Studios are tight, and it's worth considering an upgrade. From $122 per night for a single studio to $310 for a four-person executive apartment. astons-apartments.com Nell Gwynn House: A modern building housing 180 apartments in the leafy Chelsea neighborhood near Sloane Square. From $884 a week for a small studio to $2,002 for a two-bedroom apartment, not including a $103 (studio) or $113 (one- or two-bedroom) per-week maid-service charge. nghapartments.co.uk Sloane apartments: Full eat-in kitchens and plush decor. Studios start at $216 a night, two-bedrooms at $470 a night, plus VAT. sloaneapartments.com The Independent Traveller: Run by Simon and Mary Ette since 1981. Over 100 unserviced apartments in suburban and central London. Studios start at $818 weekly; two-bedrooms at $1,222. gowithit.co.uk The London apartment net: Search more than 100 central London apartments by location and price. http://londonapartment.net/ Other resources: TouristApartments.com (touristapartments.com), Coach House London Vacation Rentals (chslondon.com), Home From Home (homefromhome.co.uk). --B.J. Roche

    Inspiration

    Northern Vietnam

    Just ask last year's nearly 3 million international visitors: Vietnam is hardly a best-kept secret. And the traffic is increasing. Since they were introduced in December, United Airlines' direct flights to Ho Chi Minh City -- the first American flights to the country from the U.S. since 1975 -- have been virtually sold out. Vietnam Airlines plans on jumping aboard with direct flights of its own later this year. Feel like you missed your window? Don't worry. Getting off the beaten path is remarkably easy in Vietnam. Most visitors stick to the two poles of this narrow, 1,000-mile-long land: Hanoi in the north and Ho Chi Minh City in the south. National airlines offer dirt-cheap, two-hour flights between the two cities. But travel by train is still the more affordable option and allows for detours along the way. At least a quarter of all Vietnam tourists make Hoi An one of those stops. An 80,000-person port town on the Thu Bon river, Hoi An has seen its popularity surge since UNESCO -- the cultural preservation arm of the U.N. -- designated its Ancient Town a World Heritage site in 1999 for, among other things, its elegant 18th-century architecture. But Hoi An is still worth a visit, not only for its prolific seamstresses who can custom-make a silk dress in a matter of hours, but also for its proximity to two places under most travelers' radars: My Son Sanctuary and Bach Ma National Park. My Son Sanctuary In a lush valley below Cat's Tooth Mountain, My Son was once the royal burial and temple grounds for the Champa Kingdom, one of Vietnam's earliest major civilizations, which existed between the 2nd and 15th centuries. The Vietcong used the site as a base during the war, and American bombs destroyed many of the more than 70 Hindu-inspired monuments, though President Nixon finally declared them off-limits, partly at the urging of a Cham art expert. Bomb craters still punctuate the monument grounds, and land mines lurk beneath the surrounding jungle. (Signs provide plenty of warning about where the area becomes potentially unsafe.) Reminiscent of a mini-Angkor Wat, My Son is best enjoyed when you can wander the crumbling brick altars and temples in solitude. So go at off times. Tour buses are there from around 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.; you can and should avoid the crowds by hiring a driver for an early-morning or late-afternoon trip (it's open from 6:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.). The ride costs about $20, and your driver will wait for you. Two hours at the site should do it. Also a UNESCO World Heritage site, My Son has seen a bump in tourism; a newly paved road, which cut the three-hour drive from Hoi An in half, is making it more accessible. Several international organizations, including Global Heritage Fund, have recently backed restoration projects, painstakingly reassembling the bombed-out monuments and planning for increased on-site security. But while those projects make My Son friendlier to visitors, the feeling now is still that of stumbling Indiana Jones-style onto an archaeological find. Bach Ma National Park Even more remote, Bach Ma National Park, 56 miles north of Hoi An, is Vietnam at its best -- untamed jungles, leafy valleys, views of sparkling beaches. The two-hour drive from Hoi An over the Hai Van Pass is easily the country's most beautiful. Then from Bach Ma's entrance, a tight 10-mile paved road snakes almost to the top of the park's 4,800-foot summit, with wild side trails (some requiring the use of overhanging vines to help you haul yourself over large logs) leading to waterfalls. You can hire a jeep to shuttle you up the park's main road, but the four-to-five-hour hike allows you to take time with the views. The temperature drops about 40 degrees as you climb; pack a hat, a rain jacket (the park is Vietnam's wettest spot), and lots of bottled water. High-ranking French officials built stately vacation villas along the road in the 1930s. Although most are now in ruins, the park service renovated a few near the entrance and summit after Bach Ma was designated a national park in 1991. They're now spare but comfortable inns, with wood floors, shutters, and verandas; an on-site caretaker serves basic Vietnamese meals. Beyond the update of these villas, not much else has changed at Bach Ma. For that, in part, you can thank conservationists, who have fought to preserve the park's biodiversity -- including tigers and over 1,400 plant species -- and a remarkable serenity. Northern Vietnam Transportation   Vietnam Airlines 415/677-0888   Vietnam Railways vr.com.vn, Hanoi to Danang from $26 Lodging   Cua Dai Hotel Hoi An, 011-84/510-862-231, elephantguide.com/cuadai, from $12   National Park Guesthouse Bach Ma, 011-84/54-871-330, bachma.vnn.vn, rooms from $6.50, dinner for two from $5.50   Morin-Bach Ma Bach Ma, 011-84/54-871-199, rooms from $20,dinner for two $10 Resources   My Son globalheritage fund.org, tickets $3   Bach Ma 011-84/54-871-330, bachma.vnn.vn, tickets $1