LEISURE

FROM the balcony of my villa at daybreak, I can see the nearby village creaking to life. Children are walking to school in their blue uniforms, and a farmer slings a hoe into the ground. The Africa of traveers’ imaginations is defined by vast open spaces – the treeless plains, the lonely desert – but Rwanda is the most densely populated country on the continent, and a trip here comes with an awareness that you’re sharing this space.

I sip my coffee in the morning breeze, and my eyes wander out to the mountain dominating the landscape. Mount Bisoke is one of several volcanoes in the Virunga chain, and every room at Bisate Lodge offers a front-row seat to its majesty. Although the peak spends much of the day hiding behind clouds, at this early hour, sunbeams shoot out from another era might have  believed it was magical.

The Virungas are home to more than half the area’s 880 endangered mountain gorillas, the same primates Dian Fossey studied in the 1970s and 1980s. the chance to visit htem in their natural rainforest habitat is a bucket-list iatem that draws visitors fro macros the glove to these peaks, which straddle the border with Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Gorilla treaks can originate in each country, but Rwanda has emerged as the high-end experience. Wilderness Safaris, one of the top ecotourism companies in Africa, opened Bisate Lodge near Volcanoes National Park in June. Faith in the area is so strong that two more premium names, Singita and One & Only Resorts, are opening properties near the park in 2018 and 2019, making Rwanda a new seat of luxury tourism.

Luxury? Rwanda? The 1994 genocide here was one of the most bone-chilling tragedies in modern memory, leaving a million dead and an entire country shaken to its core. In the almost quarter century sicne however something remarkable has happened. Rwanda has flourished. No more talk of Hutus and Tutsis, the tribal divisions exacerbated by Belgian colonialists, but a newfound unity. There’s mandatory education and universal health care.

The country even legislated gender equality and claims more women in Parliament than any government in the world. Much of this change can be attributed to Paul Kagame, the president who steered Rwanda through a long period of reconciliation to emerge as one of the safest places in Africa.

And so tourism is booming. Up to 30 percent in the last two years alone and grossing US$400 million in 2016, the industry has pushed past coffee to become the country’s top foreign exchange eaner. In the capital of Kigali, a futuristic new convention center is parto to the government’s paln to frame the centrally locaged cit yas a major business hub. Marriott international inc. and Radisson Blu hav opened 200-plus-room hotels to accommodate the influx. bustling 21st century Africa, where women in colorful kitenge dresses carry jugs on their head alongside zooming moto taxis and young people texting. With multiple carriers flying into Kigali International Airport and an easy $30 visa paid upon arrival (a $100 three-pack includes Uganda and Kenya), travel to and around this tiny landlocked country has become easier than ever. The hope is that tourists who come for the gorillas will stay and discover the rest.

The drive to Bisate Lodge is a three-hour journey from Kigali along winding mountain passes that overlook an endless patchwork of crop plots: banana groves with leaves like flapping elephant ears; wheat fields rippling into the horizon; potatoes, potatoes, potatoes. Ninety percent of the country’s 12 million inhabitants are subsistence farmers, leaving little of the green and hilly landscape uncultivated.

I’ve arrived in July, during the dry season that runs from June to mid-September. The temperature stays moderate year-round, but Rwanda is a place of fog and shifting winds, and though it’s a sunny 75F back in Kigali, the air gets chillier as the road climbs toward my destination. The final 15 minutes of the trip take me and my driver, Duncan, down a bumpy road through a mud-hut village, also called Bisate. Goats nibble on bushes and barefoot children stare at the black SUV as it passes, still struck by the novelty of a stranger coming to their part of the world.

Bisate Lodge was built within eyeshot of the town, and though the proximity turns out to be a profound part of my visit, I feel a stab of self-consciousness. Should I wave? Or try to remain invisible? We talk about travel as “getting away,” but just as crucially it’s an act of entering—a new place, a culture not our own. Those of us lucky enough to set foot on foreign soil would do well to consider the moral ­complexity of our arrival.

Fortunately, Wilderness Safaris has been doing that for more than three decades. Conceived in 1983 by Colin Bell and Chris McIntyre, two shaggy-­haired guides seized by the need to preserve the area wildlife, the company evolved alongside a more sophisticated understanding of global travel. The point isn’t simply to take away but also to give back. With more than 40 camps and lodges, mostly in sub-Saharan Africa, Wilderness has earned a reputation for conserving land and also building up local communities. Five years ago, when the company began looking at this farmland around Volcanoes National Park, its team met with a co-op formed from the village and asked, “What do you want?” The answer from the communities was clear: They wanted jobs and opportunity.

Bisate has given them both. At the northwestern edge of the village, the lodge appears at the end of a short, solitary road, a cluster of chestnut-shaped villas nestled into an eroded volcanic cone. (The word bisate means “pieces” in Kinyarwanda.) About 250 locals helped build the property, and 45 Rwandans were hired as permanent staff, almost half from the village.

A dozen or so of those employees greet me with a ritual welcome song, punctuated by hand claps and proud smiles. Someone whisks away my luggage, and I begin the steep climb up a staircase of black volcanic brick. “Each of these was carried by hand,” says Ingrid Baas, a tall Dutch blonde who runs the lodge with her husband, Rob. I nod at the reminder of how much hard work goes into seamless beauty and try to pretend I’m not winded. At 8,100 feet above sea level, the altitude requires an adjustment period.

Breakfast on the balcony overlooking Mount Bisoke.

Photographer: Andrea Frazzetta for Bloomberg Businessweek

The reward for the climb to your room is the view, a vast panorama of the Musanze Valley and the Virunga Massif. Walking into my 1,000-square-foot villa, one of only six on the property, is like stepping inside an elegant woven basket. Designed by the South Africa-based Nicholas Plewman Architects, Bisate draws inspiration from the dramatic dome and thatching of the King’s Palace at Nyanza, the 19th century seat of monarchy in Rwanda’s southern province.

As much as the style points toward the past, it has an innovative flair that’s otherworldly. That night, I return to my room after a three-course dinner that includes kuku paka, a spicy chicken dish, to find the fireplace roaring and a hot water bottle tucked underneath the covers, a reminder that luxury isn’t necessarily about flash as much as the awareness that you are known and taken care of.

I wake up early the next morning to go on our gorilla hike. The Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund monitors 11 habituated families in the Virungas, and each roams a different territory, meaning the treks (arranged for groups of eight or fewer) can take from 30 minutes to eight hours; once we find a family, we’ll get a strict 60 minutes for visitation. Our journey is a 2½-hour ascent into stunning rainforest, an entire color wheel made from shades of green, where giant trees drip with moss and ropy vines to make the world’s greatest jungle gym.

Finally, we spot a furry black shape behind a thatch of leaves—Mafunzo, the 18-year-old silverback patriarch of his 13-member clan. Whoa, this guy is big. Silverbacks, named for the white hair on their broad backs, can grow to more than 400 pounds; the large ones are the alpha males, who attract mates with their strength and ability to provide.

As our group inches closer, any fear in my body shifts into something calmer and more profound. Mafunzo is lying on his back and covers his eyes for a nap as a baby scampers over his protruding belly. The baby’s mother (one of five females in the group) ushers the little one off to give the big guy some rest.

The most remarkable thing about gorillas is perhaps the most obvious: They are so much like us. My eyes keep returning to the snail shell of their ears, the familiar details of their finger­nails and grasping hands. Gorillas share 98 percent of our DNA, and standing among them feels as if some wormhole has spit us out into the Pleistocene era wearing North Face gear and holding iPhones.

“Turn around,” the guide whispers, and I pivot slowly to find a juvenile, the equivalent of a teen, hanging out a few feet away from me and chomping on some bamboo. He discards the stick and lumbers through the center of our group, dragging his hand along my pants leg as he passes.

The experience is unforgettable, but these treks aren’t without controversy. A few weeks before I arrived in Rwanda, the government doubled the price of a permit to visit the gorillas to $1,500 per person. The cost, twice as much as in neighboring Uganda, was a confirmation of the country’s move toward high-cost, low-volume tourism. Commercial operators knew the spike was coming, a reflection of the market demand for a strictly capped number of permits. But few expected the steep increase to come without discounts for locals, who are entrusted with the protection of Volcanoes National Park.

Up 30 percent in the last two years, tourism in Rwanda now grosses $400 million annually

“I’m aware the locals don’t go very often,” says Praveen Moman, owner of Volcanoes Safaris and one of the pioneers in the area. “But psychologically, it’s important they should be able to.” Moman came to the park two decades ago, when the question for anyone creating tourism in Rwanda was: Are you crazy? Gorilla treks were done by military convoy. The absence of banks meant you paid for things with wheelbarrows of cash. In 2004, Moman gambled with what became the first luxury accommodations in the area, Virunga Lodge, and watched as more visitors came, helping the gorillas transition from a species under constant threat to one revered as a national icon.

“The gorillas symbolize the rebirth of Rwanda as a whole,” Moman says. As ecotourism proved a sustainable model in the Virungas, former poachers began to work as gorilla trackers, locals got jobs as porters and guides, and funds from the increasingly popular treks were funneled to the nearby farmers. Along with the price hike in permits, the government has doubled the amount going to rural communities, from 5 percent to 10 percent.

#Balconies provide a vast panorama of the Musanze Valley and the Virunga Massif.

“I think the government’s in a particularly difficult situation, and they’re asking, ‘How do I create the best-­quality jobs?’ ” says Keith Vincent, chief executive officer of Wilderness Safaris. He agrees with Moman that more affordable permits need to be available to the locals. “This is something ­commercial operators must understand and fight for, whether they’re in the U.S. or Africa. Local citizens must have the ability to visit their own natural environment at a reasonable cost.”

For now, the government has been focused less on encouraging gorilla tourism and more on keeping tourists here once they arrive. Visitors get a 30 percent permit discount if they stay six nights in the country, and there is so much more to see. In Nyungwe National Park, where One & Only is opening a resort in October, chimpanzees and monkeys roam a rainforest filled with birds and orchids. Last May about 20 eastern black rhinos were reintroduced into Akagera National Park after the species disappeared 10 years ago, marking the triumphant return of the Big Five (lion, rhino, elephant, leopard, buffalo), the most difficult animals to track and therefore the safari gold standard.

Wilderness Safaris is developing a second lodge close to Akagera on the Tanzania border in the east. “Everybody wants to do the right thing for Rwanda,” Vincent says. “I’ve never seen anywhere in Africa that has the same level of commitment.”

The dedication of the Rwandans is a sentiment I hear again and again during my stay. “They want this so bad,” says Bisate’s Ingrid Baas. She’s been awed by the drive and optimism of her staff despite the country’s grim past. It was weeks into training before it dawned on her that at least half the local employees were orphans.

A few months before the lodge opened, a young man teaching English to the other employees told Baas his dream was to be a chef. Since then, he’s been working in the kitchen, where he’s learning knife skills and his mise en place. His name is Innocent Nshimiyimana, and on an unusually sunny and warm day, he sits on the balcony of the lobby in his crisp chef’s whites and points to the modest home where he was born 24 years ago. His family thought he was nuts to change his career—“What are you cooking over there?” they asked him skeptically—but they’ve seen him transform, learn, and find new purpose.

There are so many stories like his. Gilbert Ndagijimana, a handyman, sometimes runs back to his place down the hill to grab a tool the lodge is missing. Josiane Dusengimana, who works in the laundry room, has to field questions from her parents, who don’t understand why she isn’t married with a baby at 25. Hers is the same refrain passed down from one generation to another: She wants more. One day, when her English is better, she hopes to join the waitstaff.

That afternoon, I walk down the short dusty road to the village with Aline Umutoni, the community outreach coordi­nator who grew up in the Musanze district. This visit is one of two afternoon outings the lodge offers, along with a serene nature walk, but this is more popular. People want to connect, it turns out, even more than they want to escape. An older woman teaches me to say thank you—murakoze—and the group around us bursts into laughter and applause.

On my final morning in Rwanda, I find a soil-rich hagenia bulb in a paper bag waiting by the side of my bed. Bisate has planted 15,000 trees around the lodge, part of a massive reforestation effort, and each visitor gets to play a small part. One of the employees meets me at a plot near the entrance, where we lean over on our knees to place the fledgling tree into a hole in the ground. “That’s your tree now,” he says, as we pack the soil loosely with our hands. “You’ll have to come back to see how it grows.”

A one-night stay at Bisate Lodge in Rwanda starts at $1,100 per person. Fly into Kigali International Airport, a three-hour drive away. Price includes three meals per day and drinks. Gorilla permits are $1,500 per person.

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Nakhon Si Thammarat sets out to become a major tourist destination

Once ignored by the tourist trade because of an unfortunate perception that it wasn’t safe, Nakhon Si Thammarat is working hard to clean up its reputation. Crime has fallen dramatically as development assistance has poured in and the city is opening its arms to visitors looking for a break far from the madding crowd.

“We are removing the unhealthy images of Nakhon Si Thammarat and replacing them with ones that better represent what we are,” says Chacrit Sungkanit, director of Tourism and Sports for the province.

“Last year’s police operations have led to a major decline in violence as evidenced by the peaceful Songkran celebrations. We feel confident in saying that Nakhon Si Thammarat is a safe city,” he tells members of the press who have travelled south to take part in the “Nakhon Si Dee Dee” (“Nakhon Si Awesome”) campaign. In fact, the campaign was initiated in 2012 to promote tourism through a series of romantic and adventurous activities including a Valentine’s Day celebration atop Khao Men, the third highest mountain in the province. The new governor, Chamroen Tipayapongtada, decided to breathe fresh life into “Nakhon Si Awesome” this year in the hope that the province could earn some much-needed tourist dollars.

“We have put a lot of effort into cleaning up our natural attractions and we are very proud that the Tapee River has been voted by the Pollution Control Department as the least polluted of all rivers in the country, measuring between 77-93 on the water quality index. Visitors will feel comfortable and safe thanks to our great climate and clean water. I believe coming here allows you to live longer,” he says.

“We have spent more than Bt300 million in beefing up security, purchasing closed-circuit television cameras (CCTV) and installing them at all tourist destinations. Nakhon Si Thammarat has tremendous potential for tourism. And we are determined to be good hosts so have trained many guides at all levels,” says Chacrit.

The airport too is getting an upgrade to international standards in a Bt1 billion-plus project scheduled to run for three years, and a new road is being built from Khao Plai Dam to Khanom district at a cost of Bt105 million. A further Bt10 million will be spent on constructing a bike path in parallel with the new road.

The province is also being promoted overseas, with the city fathers signing memoranda of understanding (MOU) with Bali in Indonesia and with Chengdu in China.

“Nakhon Si Thammarat and Bali share a richness of culture and nature and we are working with the Indonesians to promote tourism, culture, economy and education. For Chengdu, which has a population of 96 million people, we will be emphasising such attractions as the pink dolphin, fish spa and mud spa at Baan Laem Homestay and fruit orchards. Another selling point is religion. Our temples, especially Wat Chedi, are well known amongst tourists from Malaysia and Singapore,” Chacrit continues.

Another sacred site bound to appeal to Chinese tourists is Wat Khao Khun Phanom in Phrom Khiri district, where we climb the 245 steps to the cave in which King Taksin the Great is said to have stayed until his death. Today it is home to 30 bronze Buddha images and a bronze Buddha’s footprint. Leaving the cave I walk towards an ongoing temple fair and watch a group of young boys putting on a shadow play.

Our next stop is Prom Lok Community-based Tourism Centre. Set up 11 years ago, it offers visitors a range of interesting activities including trekking on Khao Luang, at 1,850 metres the highest mountain in the Southern region. Homestays can also be arranged as well as cycling tours around the village passing such attractions as Wat Khao Khun Phanom, farms and mangosteen orchard. Packages are priced at a very reasonable Bt1,800 for two days.

“We can support groups of 20 tourists and have welcomed visitors from Scandinavia, France and England. They’ve taken advantage of the homestays to learn about the local ways of life and our arts and culture including the traditional Thai dance known as manorah. This year, we have reintroduced our traditional folk games mark kep (pebble tossing), ri ri khao sarn (a form of catch) and mark khum, which can all be enjoyed at the folk game museum,” a member of the centre’s staff explains.

We also spend time in Khao Luang National Park, one of the most important areas for nature tourism in Southern Thailand. It has been visited by members of the Thai royal family over the years including Their Majesties the King and Queen who came to Phrom Lok Waterfall in 1959.

Time doesn’t allow for a trek to the top so instead we spend time walking on the Phrom Lok Waterfall Nature Trail, which meanders 600 metres through the evergreen forest to a soundtrack of birdsong. We stop briefly to admire the engravings of the emblems and initials of Their Majesties the King and Queen.

Another attraction likely to appeal to tourists is whitewater rafting at Khlong Klai in Krung Ching. The first section is ideal for beginners with easily navigable rapids though sufficiently tiring to ensure that we will all enjoy a good night’s sleep.

We start the next day high up with our heads in the mist at Khao Chang Lon before heading to Hong Cave in Tha Sala District. Part of Khao Nanthi National Park Protection Unit, the cave is entered through a narrow entrance and visitors need to crawl under the ceiling of stalactites to reach the waterfall that cascades down.

In the afternoon, we visit Khao Kha archaeological site, home in the eighth and ninth centuries to the Hindus of the Sawai Nikai Brahman order. Three ancient Hindu temples have been restored and a museum houses artefacts used during religious rites as well as holy water pipes and even an ancient pond. We end our day at Wat Chedi, which is packed with pilgrims making a wish at the wooden statue of temple boy Khai, a follower of revered monk Luang Pu Thuad who died at his age of nine.

Talet Bay is our final destination and while we don’t see the pink dolphins, we do get to admire the freshwater pond shaped like a foot on Koh Nui Nok before ending our trip at the fish spa in Khanom district’s Suan Ta San.

IF YOU GO

– Both Nok Air and Thai AirAsia have daily flights from Bangkok to Nakhon Si Thammarat. The province is also accessible by long-distance bus from the Southern Bus Terminal

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NAPOLEON’S REMOTE ISLAND PRISON CAN BE YOUR NEXT LUXURY VACATION SPOT

One of the remotest islands in the world is about to enter the modern tourist age.

When the British exiled Napoléon Bonaparte to St. Helena in 1815, it took the conquered emperor a full 10 weeks to reach the island. Two centuries later, it’s still a five-day trip by mail boat—assuming you happen to be starting from somewhere as close as Cape Town, South Africa.

But on Oct. 14, the tiny British overseas territory will get its first-ever scheduled flights. Two weeks later, St. Helena’s first luxury hotel, a 30-room property in a trio of Georgian buildings, will open its doors.

Located about 1,200 miles off the western coast of Africa, St. Helena is best known (for those who know it at all) as the place where Napoleon was banished after being defeated at the Battle of Waterloo. The house where he lived—complete with the original furnishings— is one of the island’s main tourist attractions.

But it’s not the only draw. The 47-square-mile tropical island offers mountain biking, sportfishing, and scuba diving in waters where visibility is up to 100 feet. St. Helena is one of a handful of places in the world where humans can swim with massive (and passive) whale sharks. It’s home to a 185-year-old tortoise named Jonathan, the world’s longest straight staircase, and a double-hole golf course that players go around twice, trying not to hit any goats along the way.

Then there’s St. Helena distillery, said to be the world’s most remote. Its specialty is Tungi (TOON-jee), a white spirit made from prickly pear and bottled in a beveled glass flask shaped to evoke the island’s famous (-ish) staircase.

Because of the limited transportation options, only a couple of thousand tourists make it to the island each year. The Royal Mail Ship St. Helena, a combination cargo-passenger ship, makes the trip just a few times a month. And until now, the airport was able to accept only private flights.

“The world’s most useless airport,” as some have called it, cost 285 million British pounds [more than $400 million] and was meant to push St. Helena toward economic self-sufficiency. A month before it opened in 2016, test flights revealed dangerous wind conditions, and commercial flights were put on hold. The airport has been taking only private and medical evacuation flights.

But now, South African airline Airlink will run weekly from Johannesburg to Windhoek, Namibia, and on to St. Helena.

The Independent reported that Airlink won’t fill its Embraer jets to capacity. To keep the plane light enough to use less of the runway and avoid the spots with most dangerous winds, it will fill only 76 of the 99 seats. It’s hoping to bump that up to 87 in 2018.

Meanwhile, the new hotel by resort developer Mantis, which owns five-star safari lodges in Africa, Explora resorts in Chile, and other high-end properties, promises to be a game-changer. St. Helena’s official tourism website lists just two B&Bs and a half-dozen hotels and guest houses, most of which have no websites.

“St Helena’s draw card to tourists is without doubt its isolation,” Matt Joshua, general manager of the Mantis St. Helena, told Bloomberg. That also made it extremely challenging to create the hotel. “Following construction, everything needed to get the hotel operational—from carpets to computers, teaspoons to televisions, beds to bathmats—has all come on the RMS.”

Mantis’s stone buildings date back to 1774; they were originally officer’s barracks for the East India Company, which then ran St. Helena.

As relatively speedy as the flights may be, this might actually be the perfect time to reserve a berth to St. Helena. Not only is the island on its way to changes, but the mail ship will eventually be decommissioned. Book now, or permanently miss the boat.

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Why a Pub in the Middle of Nowhere Was Named the World’s Best Restaurant

Don’t knock it just because the award’s from TripAdvisor.

By Richard Vines

October 17, 2017, 12:03 PM GMT+7

If you had to describe a restaurant declared the best in the world, you might think of somewhere distinctly glamorous.

I’ve eaten at six establishments that have held that title. My travels have taken me to glorious locations, from a hillside villa overlooking the sea in Catalonia to the back streets of Modena, Italy.

I never expected to journey to a village pub deep in the countryside of northern England—reached by a narrow and winding road—where the first thing you see when you finally arrive is a group of locals enjoying a pint of beer on a bench outside.

The Black Swan at Oldstead scooped the title last week in the TripAdvisor Travelers’ Choice Restaurants awards in the fine dining category. That is rather different and (let’s face it) much less prestigious than the title handed out annually by the World’s 50 Best Restaurants awards, closely watched in the restaurant industry.

But it’s not a meaningless accolade, and don’t knock it just because it’s from a mass-market online travel site.

In fact, it looks like it may be almost life-changing for chef Tommy Banks and his family.

“If I’m honest, when someone told me, I thought it sounds like a bit of a spoof, someone pulling our leg or some sort of scam,” Banks said in an interview in the stone-paved bar, with a log fire, paneled walls and a blackboard listing cocktails. “We never imagined quite how big it would become. Things just went crazy. The phone rang off the hook, and e-mails, e-mails, e-mails. We took 1,200 bookings in four hours, and that has filled us up for the rest of the year. There were reporters outside when I came in the next morning to cook breakfast and we had TV trucks all day. We had 90,000 people on our website in one afternoon.”

He said the reaction was much bigger than when he first won a Michelin star in 2013 at age 24, or more recently when his business got a bump after he appeared on the BBC television show, the Great British Menu.

I would argue TripAdvisor is not the best guide to eating out. Many of the reviewers know little about food, which can result in unusual recommendations.

For example, the site’s London Top 10 features some unlikely restaurants. First place is taken by The Peninsula, a hotel dining room in Canary Wharf. I have never been, so I am not criticizing it, but I’ve never even heard it mentioned. It’s a similar story for Gastronhome, a French bistro on Lavender Hill, which is placed third. I had to Google that one. The Foyer at Claridge’s places sixth, outranking the hotel’s Fera restaurant, which features on most lists.

But the TripAdvisor awards, which started in 2012, have some claim to importance. Rather than being picked by a panel of insiders or experts, the restaurants on the list are based on an algorithm that takes into account the quantity and quality of millions of reviews around the world over a 12-month period. Another U.K. restaurant, Belmond Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons, places second, and third is Maison Lameloise, in Chagny, France.

So how does the Black Swan measure up? It is actually very good.

The only option is a tasting menu for £95 ($126) that focuses on local produce, much of it from the countryside around the pub and some of it from the garden at the back. Banks’ parents, who are farmers, bought the North Yorkshire pub and converted it into a restaurant. Tommy Banks is head chef, while his brother James runs the front of house. The family has farmed around Oldstead for generations. The main dining room is a small upstairs space above the bar, with bare tables and a low ceiling supported by beams where you might bang your head.

When I visited on Saturday, the meal started with snacks of langoustine on a spruce skewer, with caramelized whey and fermented strawberry; a dumpling of confit chicken legs wrapped in brioche; and raw Dexter beef fed on beer, with grated chestnuts and smoked bone marrow.

The first of the four mains was cod topped with grated roasted cauliflower, served on a parsley sauce, with just the right mixture of softness and crunch. Then there was a beautiful dish of Crapaudine beetroot slowly cooked in beef fat, topped with pickled beetroot, smoked roe, goat’s curd and linseed. I personally dislike beetroot, but this had an almost toffee-like sweetness and texture, the elements perfectly balanced.

The dining room.Photographer: Richard Vines/Bloomberg

A large scallop steamed in apple juice was sliced and served with fermented celeriac and a sauce with dill oil. James Banks, serving my table, told me the name of the farmer who had shot my fallow-deer venison, served rare with a black garlic glaze, accompanied by a taco-like brussels sprout leaf with slow-cooked shoulder, fermented turnip and blobs of sloe puree.

(I have to watch my sugar intake these days, otherwise I would tell you about desserts such as brown butter and rhubarb; and cake made from chicory root and blackcurrant. I enjoyed a beautiful blackened apple tart with caramelized cream with walnuts.)

While these were classic combinations, the quality of the ingredients, the originality of the presentation and the assuredness of the cooking lifted them above the everyday. OK, it’s not the kind of creative contemporary gastronomy on show at World’s 50 Best Restaurants. I well remember my final meal at five-time winner El Bulli that consisted of 48 courses, few of which I could identify. (A crimson liquid described as hare’s blood was particularly disconcerting. It turned out to be beetroot juice, which was actually worse.)

And what did the TripAdvisor users think of the Black Swan? “Absolutely stunning meal last night, service and food were faultless,” one said. All the dishes “were out of this world,” said another. “Probably the best meal I’ve ever had,” said a third. And: “Who would have thought that peas could taste like heaven?”

But you can’t please everyone, at least not on TripAdvisor. One reviewer recently complained that the dining party was “sat on our own absolutely no atmosphere” and “bread was under cooked I could have rolled the inside dough into balls.” (I thought the bread was sensational.)

Banks serves farm-to-table dishes that are focused on the table and the diner rather than on abstract concepts and zany creativity. It’s comfort food that doesn’t step too far outside the comfort zone, yet manages to avoid predictability. It’s about the flavor of the ingredients, rather than the imaginings of the chef. It is good British cooking, taken to another level. And there is a highly imaginative wine list, too.

It may not be my pick for the best restaurant in the world, but it was one of my most enjoyable lunches of the year. It’s more than 230 miles from London but I would not hesitate to go back. If only I could get a table.

Richard Vines is the chief food critic at Bloomberg. Follow him on Twitter @richardvines and Instagram @richard.vines.

Edouard Kunz knows timekeeping is important but the former Swiss watch precision mechanic admits that James Bond's Oriental Desert Express in remote eastern Morocco never runs on schedule.

The train, made famous in the 2015 Bond movie "Spectre", trundles tourists between the town of Oujda and the former mining city of Bouarfa along a 350-kilometre-long (215-mile) stretch of desert.

"It takes between eight and 12 hours to make the trip, sometimes even more," says Kunz, 70, who is known as Edi, blaming sandstorms for frequent delays.

His passion for trains put him in the driver's seat more than 10 years ago when he persuaded Morocco's National Office of Railways to let him run a tourist train on a disused railway line.

The track that runs near the border with Algeria was originally built nearly 100 years ago when Morocco was a French protectorate.

It was part of an ambitious project, the Mediterranean-Niger railway, to link the sea to inland Africa.

However, the project was short-lived and, in time, the mines and factories in Bouarfa shut down, until the desert region with its lunar landscapes was rediscovered by Kunz and the location scouts for "Spectre".

Exterior shots of the train making its way through the desert darkness were used in the Bond movie, a star-studded spy thriller with Daniel Craig reprising the role of 007.

One of the most striking sequences in the film depicts a romantic dinner between Bond and a character played by French actress Lea Seydoux that is interrupted by the villain Mr Hinx, played by wrestler Dave Bautista.

The resulting fight between Bond and Hinx in a train carriage has been praised by some critics as one of the best scenes in the whole movie.

Cradle in the desert

The tourist train that Kunz hires from Morocco's national railway operator is not quite as luxurious as the one featured in "Spectre".

Tourists can choose from a first-class, air-conditioned carriage and another that dates back to the 1960s, in which they can open the windows to take in the scenery and snap pictures.

The train moves at a top speed of 50 kilometres per hour (30 mph), but this can often drop to 10 kph and sometimes the train has to come to a complete halt because of sand on the tracks.

When that happens, workers resort to shovels to get rid of the sand before the train can proceed.

"Some people buy BMWs but I bought myself a train," Kunz says, with a chuckle, recalling how he struggled to make a profit with his desert train project.

In a good year, he says, he makes five to six trips between Oujda and Bouarfa.

On the route to Bouarfa, the first dozen or so kilometres are through a fertile plain, and then the train passes through the Tiouli tunnel.

After that it is mostly desert.

Along the way, passengers see abandoned train stations - and the more unusual sight of a former Roman Catholic church turned into a judo club, near a mosque.

Kunz is hoping to transform one of the abandoned stations into a restaurant, but for the time being dinner is served in the train.

The chef, Aziz, prepares local specialities - spicy tajine stews and mint tea - for the tourists.

"This train is important. It creates jobs and helps promote our country," Aziz says.

One of the passengers on the Oriental Desert Express is Mona, a young Moroccan based in Paris.

"It is a welcome change of scenery. It's nothing but an infinite desert behind us and ahead of us," she says.

"There's an extraordinary atmosphere on the train," she adds, comparing its slow progress through the Saharan sands to being rocked in a cradle.

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