Travel

Blake Shelton’s ‘God’s Country’ plays on the radio as bolts of lightning tear through dark clouds, illuminating the corn fields of the Midwest. ‘Slow down,’ demands Mum, clutching her seat. It’s clear she’s grateful the rental company did not give me the muscle car that I was hoping for. We’re on America’s ‘Mother Road’, otherwise known as Route 66. Or what’s left of it that is. The original highway ran 2,448 miles cross-country from the city of Chicago, Illinois, to the beaches of Santa Monica in California, but was replaced in the 1950s by the Interstate. Although 66 is no longer still officially a highway, and you can’t drive along

Just before the pandemic, I spent several months travelling through Europe from the north of Norway to Istanbul and beyond to Azerbaijan. I saw unforgettable sights: the endless daylight of the Arctic summer; the vast Hammershus castle on the Danish island of Bornholm; Vienna’s ornate Prunksaal library; and the sandy beaches of Corfu. But the focus of my journey was precisely those things that most travellers to these places often ignore. I was following the route of the Iron Curtain. My aim was to visit every part of that old great divide, all the places where NATO once abutted the Warsaw Pact, where overwhelming military might stood constantly primed for

The poet Elizabeth Bishop wrote of South American waterfalls that spill over the sides of mountaintops ‘in soft slow motion’, and I was reminded of her lines on the Colombian Pacific coast where seemingly every bay has a wonderful waterfall tumbling down into it. As there are no roads to speak of, the only way to see something of the jungle is to advance up streams from the sea until you reach one of these waterfalls – with the great advantage that there is usually a rock pool to swim in when you get there. And because of the press of vegetation on the banks, you’re walking in the water,

I’ve long been drawn to sketchiness. In the Ethiopian capital Addis Ababa, I always preferred the dodgy and slightly dangerous old-town Piazza area to the trendy and sanitised Bole area next to the international airport. But even by my sketchy-embracing standards, it was hard not to find the grim state of Athens deflating. After all, this is the cradle of Western civilization. Now it appears to be the graffiti capital of the Western world. The luridly coloured scrawls are everywhere; Greek grannies air carpets over balconies marred by multi-coloured tags and swirls. The Parthenon temple still looks mighty grand atop the ancient Acropolis citadel dominating the skyline in the city centre,

We’ve been warned about Aswan’s ‘little crocodiles’ – and it’s not long before they make their appearance. Gliding through the water, sleek bodies shining in the sun, they circle the felucca slowly, eyes glinting with curiosity. As only a handful of tourists currently exploring the Nile, we’re the exotic species – and potential rich pickings at that. ‘A dollar, please, a dollar, please,’ cries the ringleader, stretching out a hand from his paddleboard as another breaks into an off-key rendition of the Macarena. ‘Lovely jubbly,’ grins a third, pocketing a scrunched up note with appreciation. These are not the river’s feared reptiles, of course, which used to dominate the Nile

When planning a food and wine tour to Italy, the first ideas that spring to mind might be a road trip through the Tuscan hills or feasting at a sun-soaked villa in Puglia. Few would imagine themselves hurtling down a red slope amid rugged snow-capped scenery. And yet, unbeknownst to many, the Dolomites is arguably the gastronomic (and viticultural) capital of Italy. South Tyrol, the local region, has 19 Michelin-starred restaurants (24 stars in total) – making it the most decorated province in Italy. In the small resort of Alta Badia alone, there are four Michelin stars –all attached to one restaurant, the St. Hubertus. Up till recently it had

As beautiful as Bath is, it is more interesting underground. This is where the ruins, the gods, and the waters are: the steps to the temple of Sulis Minerva near the Pump Room, the Victorian tunnels, and, in the eerie plant room below the Gainsborough Bath Spa Hotel, the water from the ancient springs, waiting to be purified before it flows into the Gainsborough’s private baths. The three springs of Bath – The Cross, the Hetling and the King’s – formed when rainwater fell on the hills 10,000 years ago, descended 2500 metres and rose through the limestone to the city. They produce one million litres a day, at a

Vive la France! Our beloved Gallic neighbour has reopened its borders to the casual tourist once more and, as travel slowly yawns its way back to something resembling normalcy, it is the perfect time to hop across the channel. France, in my half-French-totally-unbiased opinion, is never a bad idea. The diversity of the country is staggering – offering you undulating valleys dotted with vineyards, luxurious beach breaks or quaint Provençal villages; the eternal allure of Paris and majestic snow-capped peaks. But why not discover its lesser known enclaves? Seasoned Francophiles may like to take this opportunity, after a miserable time apart, to discover hidden France. So, here are my top

Finally, it looks like we might actually be able to go on holiday in Europe again. I’ve been overseas a few times since this pesky covid business began, but it’s always been for work, not leisure, and it’s always been a nuisance: tests on the way out, tests on the way back and yet more tests when you get home… However now travel restrictions are loosening up, a trip to the Continent no longer feels quite so fraught, and that magnificent indulgence – a short-haul city-break – seems like a practical option once more. So where to go? Well, you’re bound to have your own favourite destinations – but if

Those looking for ancient culture will find it in abundance on Fuerteventura – a canary island known more for its beaches than its heritage. I’d ended up in a hostel run by an Italian couple deep in the island’s outback. Looming over the hostel was the holy mountain of Tindaya, on whose summit indigenous islanders once left their dead. It also has the most important set of podomorph engravings in the world — 300 pairs of foot-shaped engravings, the left and right soles with attendant digits flush together, carved into the rock. These simple and rather touching imprints struck a particular chord with me after my extended Camino across the Iberian Peninsula following the

Life in the world’s newest republic is sweet. It’s peak season in Barbados, and another wave of Covid hasn’t stopped the rum sundowners flowing on the Caribbean island’s sugar-sand beaches. Given half the chance, many of us might well prefer to spend January wafting between beachfront restaurants and sun loungers, as the packed front-end of planes heading there during December have proved. Many of the island’s predominantly British holiday home owners have been heading to their properties on the West Coast of the island – and there will be no doubt a few villas changing hands too. ‘In the early stages of the pandemic there were a few nervous owners worrying whether

Holiday makers tend to divide themselves into two camps – those seeking culture and those for whom a holiday is not a holiday without a chance to flop on the beach or by the pool (with a good book and a cocktail for company). The good news is that in Italy you rarely have to sacrifice the former for the latter. Travel abroad has been slowly cranking into action again since September. And, whilst Omicron might have put a dampener on immediate holiday plans there’s still plenty of opportunity to dream about next summer. Fully vaccinated travellers are currently allowed into Italy without the need to isolate which bodes well for a

As winter drags on and on, and warm sunny days become distant memories, discussions in our family always turn to summer holidays. We only go away together once a year so our trip has to tick all the boxes. My daughter won’t fly long haul, my son craves excitement, I like exploring places that are off the beaten track and my wife just wants to drop and flop. It’s a tricky combination but, as we’ve found out down the years, there are plenty of European seaside towns in unexpected places – places where you can do all the usual seaside stuff and still have a few adventures while you’re there.

Readers of a certain age might recall the days when people ‘went for a drive’ as a form of pleasure. Yes, as unbelievable as it sounds now that combustion-engined cars are demonised, fuel prices are at an all-time high and unwittingly straying into a ‘low emission zone’ can cost you the price of a plane ticket to New York, there really was a time when people got behind the wheel and went somewhere simply for the joy of it. And do you know what? I still do. Yes. I am shameless. I still love that feeling of slipping into the driving seat, shutting the door and heading off on a vehicular adventure.I

Burgh Island certainly knows how to make an entrance. As you descend the hill at dusk into Bigbury-on-Sea the white hotel drinks up all the light. Like a flashy piece of costume jewellery, it’s the only thing you notice on the skyline. But, then again, it’s used to making good first impressions. Despite its diminutive size, the island appears in Agatha Christie’s Evil Under the Sun before any of the novel’s characters, upstaging even Hercule Poirot. The reader is never in any doubt that the book’s murder will hinge entirely on ‘the little windswept gull-haunted promontory – cut off from land at each high tide’ and the ‘comfortable and most exclusive hotel’ on its

Contrary to the title of this article, do not spend 48 hours in Rome on your first attempt. Unless you have legs of steel, high levels of determination and a desire for non-stop sightseeing. The two pivots about which the city’s history turns – the Vatican and the Roman Forum – are best taken a day each and visited early, fuelled by €1 coffees and sweet, crumbly pasticcini off sticky local bar counters: 48 hours, done. But to focus on these titanic monuments of European history alone is to miss the real chatter of the city: couples meeting for Monday drinks by the Ponte Sisto, watching the sun go down

Two weeks before Covid began to hit Europe, I stood in the Basilica Cistern beneath Istanbul, steadily getting dripped on. Built during the reign of the Emperor Justinian I in 532, just before another deadly pandemic – the plague of Justinian – the cistern lies beneath Istanbul’s tourist hotspot, and despite it being damp, dark and having stands of 007 merchandise at its entrance and exit, it is one of the most enchanting places in a city that has captivated its visitors for over a thousand years. ‘If the Earth were a single state,’ Napoleon once pronounced, ‘Istanbul would be its capital,’ and upon visiting you begin to understand why. Istanbul is

Birds eye shots of Aston Martins cruising along hairpin roads, steamy scenes on chalk-white beaches: the choice of James Bond filming locations has the power to put new holiday destinations on the map. Here we round up the best places to visit from No Time To Die – and rediscover old favourites from the archive. Puglia, Italy Some of the most nail biting scenes in the latest film involve Bond jumping from an aqueduct into a ravine to escape his pursuers then hurtling round the sidestreets of an ancient Italian town on a motorbike. Most of the scenes are shot around the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Matera in southern