“I felt like an arrow that could shoot all the way out.”
~Jack Kerouac, On the Road

A few days ago, I picked up an enlarged photo of our recent Portuguese wicker toboggan ride and carefully nestled it into a frame to take up residence in our home office. Over the years, our office has become a sort of ode to our travels, its walls and bookshelves filled with tales and adventures that make me smile whenever I pause to look at them.

But what struck me most about this newest addition was the thought that a year ago, I didn’t know such an unusual mode of transportation even existed. It got me thinking about other curious vehicles we’ve eagerly climbed aboard and how quickly they’ve worked themselves into our newfound vocabulary as well as our hearts.

And I found myself lost in thought, yearning to return for just one more ride.

Scenes from a Zodiac

I first learned about Zodiacs in 1996 on our family’s vacation on the Hawaiian Island of Kauai. The inflatable boats are a staple on Kauai, where the island’s spectacular Nā Pali Coast can only be experienced by water or air. Our family opted for an intriguing-sounding Zodiac tour run by the equally intriguing-sounding Captain Zodiac. (The company has since rebranded as Capt Andy’s.) I was completely captivated by the entire experience, from the majestic coastal views to the thrill of sailing into sea caves to the Zodiac ride itself.

Herb and I returned to the Zodiac life many years later in Antarctica and the Galápagos Islands. Zodiacs are the only means of transportation in these remote parts of the world as well as a great way to get closer views of wildlife. Since then, we’ve ridden in Zodiacs across Norway’s Nordfjord and New Zealand’s Milford Sound, places where the landscape seems to whisper.

Zodiacs leaving Waterboat Point, Antarctica. 2017.
Passing by a waterfall in Milford Sound, New Zealand. 2018.
A Galápagos sea turtle swims by our Zodiac on an early morning cruise through the Mangroves. 2022.
View from our Zodiac on Nordfjord, Norway. 2023.

Tooling Around by Tuk-Tuk

Motorized rickshaws known as tuk-tuks are a popular means of transportation in many parts of the world, especially where traffic congestion is a major problem. Herb and I hadn’t planned to ride a tuk-tuk on our first day in Lisbon, but after encountering the longest of lines waiting for the city’s infamous Number 28 tram, we welcomed another option. Traveling by tuk-tuk to São Jorge Castle, high on a hilltop overlooking the city, turned out to be a fun and fast way to navigate the old city. And as a bonus, our driver provided commentary along the way.

Beginning our tuk-tuk ride in Lisbon as we passed the long line for the Number 28 Tram. 2016.
Our delightful tuk-tuk driver Antonio, near the entrance to São Jorge Castle.
Looking out over São Jorge Castle, the view we had traveled by tuk-tuk to see.

Punting on the Avon

Like the gondolas and gondoliers of Venice, the punts and punters of English tradition can be found ferrying tourists across the water. But instead of canals, punting involves rivers. The punter stands on the back of a shallow-bottomed boat called a punt and pushes a long pole agains the river bed to propel it through the water.

Herb and I went “punting on the Avon” in Christchurch, New Zealand, on a lovely summer morning. I wrote in my notebook that day about “the chirping sounds of cicadas, the lazy lull of the river and the warmth of the mid-morning sun.”

Ready to go punting! Christchurch, New Zealand. 2018.
Our friendly punter at the helm.
A serene summery view from our punt along the Avon River.

RailCruising in Rotorua

I’m not certain, but I have a feeling that Rotorua, New Zealand, may be the only place on the planet where RailCruising exists. Self-driving hybrid cars take passengers on a journey along railroad tracks between two railway stations at a whopping speed of 12 miles per hour. Once the car reaches the station, passengers must briefly disembark while a guide helps turn the car around on a movable platform for the return trip.

Each RailCruiser holds four passengers, two in front and two in an elevated rear seat. It was great fun to enjoy the gentle clickety-clack sounds of the quirky little car on the tracks as beautiful pastoral scenes drifted by the open windows.

In the back seat of our RailCruiser, ready to head out on the tracks in Rotorua. 2018.
View from the front window of our RailCruiser.
The RailCruiser turn-around.

A Camel Named Michael

I try as much as possible to avoid playing favorites when it comes to travel. Comparisons are never fair, really, because each experience and every place we travel is unique. But if I had to pick one glorious, shining moment where I could have frozen time and taken in my surroundings a little longer, it would have to be riding a camel by the pyramids of Giza, Egypt.

Herb and I were assigned a camel guide, who introduced us to Michael and Moses, our rides for the outing. We formed a caravan of two and followed our guide across the desert, taking in the views while holding on and trusting that these grand creatures would carry us safely to our destination. About halfway through our brief journey, our guide offered to take our photo, giving us one of the most extraordinary souvenirs we’ve ever had.

Our camel guide let us know we were ready to ride by making a thumbs-up motion in the air and shouting, “Hi Ho Silver!”
My camel’s eye view.
Michael and me and Moses and Herb.

The Sandormen of Skagen, Denmark

When you’re visiting the sandbar where the North and Baltic seas converge, you need a vehicle that will make it through all that gravel and sand. Enter the Sandormen – the sand worm – a tractor-pulled trolley shaped like a long rectangle, about the size of a small bus. It was a bumpy, but memorable ride to the end of the peninsula, where our driver parked the Sandormen and we headed to the water’s edge on foot.

The Sandormen on the beach at Grenen, Denmark. 2023.
At the “official” spot where the North and Baltic Seas meet.
Tracks from the Sandormen as we leave the beach.

The Wicker Toboggans of Funchal

It now seems perfectly logical that Herb and I jumped in a wicker toboggan pushed by two men through the streets of a Madeira, Portugal, mountain town, with a braking and steering system consisting only of the men’s rubber-soled shoes. At the time, however, I was a little apprehensive. But once I learned that these sledges, as they are known, were actual modes of 19th century transportation that shuttered people between the mountain village of Monte and the coastal city of Funchal, I realized that this experience was much more than a made-up tourist attraction.

Getting to and from the toboggans was part of the adventure. We took a 15-minute cable car journey from Funchal to the starting point in Monte. And when the toboggan ride ended midway down the mountain, we traveled by taxi back to Funchal.

Funchal sledges and their drivers, known as Carreiros, at the starting point in Monte. 2024.
Beginning our ride through the streets of Monte.
Photographers positioned at two spots along the route jumped into the road just as our toboggan approached, capturing a photo that has now joined our treasured travel souvenirs.

4 Comments

  • Wonderful; blog on modes of transportation. Your photos plus the story makes it so enjoyable.
    Some day you should write a travel book

    • Jacqueline, you are too kind….thank you! I had a lot of fun putting this one together and looking back on some great travel memories. I’m really happy to know you enjoyed it!

  • Wonderful memories, every one of them Mary! (And surely, many more than one marvellous modes of transport await you in the not too distant future?!) Mark and I were intrigued by the Rail Cruising in Rotorua, where our memories are limited to the concrete luge! Rail Cruising looks far more relaxing, I’d say. The Kiwis seem particularly imaginative when it comes to hybrid forms of transport! However, I note that all your intriguing journeys have been made on land or sea and you’ve not included anything which involved hanging high in the air. Perhaps, like us, you feel there’s enough fun to be had and ground level and the mere thought of being airborne in anything less than a fully equipped, technically advanced aircraft makes the knees tremble. The speaker at my WI meeting last month was a young woman “wing walker”. Hmmm. Now, there’s an opportunity…or not!

  • Hahaha, Gill, you are so correct about my lack of fondness for adventures involving heights! Except for a couple of cable car rides and the “technically advanced aircrafts” you describe, I’m much more comfortable on land and water. I’m not familiar with the concrete luge in Rotorua, but it sounds as clever as Rail Cruising. Who knew one little town in New Zealand offered so much fun – not to mention those famous geysers! Many thanks, as always, for sharing your lovely thoughts and observations. And I’m a definite “not” on wing walking!😉

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