Paddling through the inky blue water in Stockholm’s outer archipelago, all I can see is scattered islands and birds. Some of the islands are mere skerries – rocky outcrops and reefs so small they can host but a single cormorant drying its outstretched wings – while others, such as our target Bullerön, can be a mile or more in length, with historic fishing huts, summer cottages and wooden jetties sitting among their smoothly weathered rocks and windswept forests.
I’m on a two-day sea kayaking tour of Nämdöskärgården, a newly established marine national park, which is a vast 25,000 hectares (62,000 acres) of protected, mostly blue space – it is 97% covered by water – beginning on the outer reaches of the archipelago and stretching well into the Baltic Sea.
It is Sweden’s second marine national park, alongside Kosterhavet on the west coast, and its creation was approved by Swedish parliament in June this year, a summer in which the country also banned bottom trawling – the destructive fishing practice that Sir David Attenborough has likened to “bulldozing a rainforest” – from its marine national parks and nature reserves by July 2026. It’s the first European country to do so (the UK appears to have rejected whole-site bans in more marine protected areas, despite its earlier pledge to extend these– much to the dismay of conservationists).
One of the challenges in getting people to care about ocean conservation is that it’s hard to engage with what we can’t see or experience directly, and the idea behind Nämdöskärgården is not just to preserve the area’s unique ecological diversity, but also to make it accessible to visitors in a low-impact way. Sea kayaking – a popular pastime for Swedes throughout the archipelago – is the perfect way to do that.
Bullerö, in Nämdöskärgården. Photograph: Länsstyrelsen Stockholms län
My guide Johan Montelius, from Stockholm Adventures, and I get dropped off by taxi boat on Jungfruskär, which, like many isles in the outer archipelago, is uninhabited. We haul our narrow yellow sea kayaks up on to rocks splattered with grey, green and bright orange lichen, and after a quick safety briefing, Johan shows me our route to Idöborg, an island just outside the marine national park, where we’ll spend the night. It’s a journey of around 5 miles, but he assures me the wind will help push us along in parts and we’ll make plenty of stops along the way.
We set off, and after a tricky first 50 metres of paddling into the wind, find ourselves nicely sheltered between two long islands. We settle into an easy, slow rhythm – perfect for tuning into the surrounding natural wonder. There is plenty of birdlife, mostly cormorants, gulls, herons and geese, but we also spot at least five different white-tailed eagles over the two-day trip, as well as a pine marten and a seal. The thing that excites me most, though, is the seaweed, which comes in a host of shades, even the russet colour of autumn leaves. It’s a sign of healthy waters, with the seaweed providing a great nursery for young fish as well as a vital carbon sink – something that absorbs more carbon from the atmosphere than it releases.
Safe from the elements … in a forest cabin on Idöborg
We paddle over wonderful seagrass meadows, which glisten when the sun breaks through the clouds, and extensive belts of bladder wrack, or blåstång, a dark green seaweed with air pockets. Because the water is so clear, I can see it is also home to lots of periwinkles and other shellfish.
We see no other boats or kayaks, partly because it’s a slightly wet and windy day in September – sunny days in July and August are a lot busier, Johan says – but also because with kayaks we can navigate narrow passages between islands that sail boats and other watercraft can’t. At times, we paddle through fields of high reeds, our route no more than the width of a footpath.
We stop for lunch on another deserted island, feasting on a delicious fish stew made by Johan the night before. Mindful of leaving no trace in an archipelago where I’ve not seen a speck of single-use plastic all day, we check the spot for litter meticulously before we head off.
Enjoying the peace on Bullerön
The islands are beautiful, but they all look the same to me, so I’ve no idea how Johan is navigating so effectively – he only uses the GPS on his phone once, to check our final crossing to Idöborg as the wind picks up. We stash our kayaks in a sheltered sandy bay on the island and check into our cosy forest cabins, which have full A-frame views of the increasingly agitated ocean. Stockholm Adventures offers wild camping when the weather allows, but tonight I’m glad of a roof over my head.
Idöborg is a private island with dense forest, a range of cabin options, and a restaurant that serves tasty, seasonal local food – the jerusalem artichoke soup with seagrass pesto is incredible. It also has a sauna facing the water, with a wooden jetty that invites dipping in the soft, brackish water in between the waves of heat.
When we enjoy it at dusk, the sea still has plenty of energy, but the next morning things are calmer. Our 2.5-mile paddle out to Bullerön, the main island of the Bullerö archipelago, and one of the last islands before the open sea, passes in an easy, meditative haze.
The sun comes out, and we visit the former cottage and studio of the influential Swedish nature painter Bruno Liljefors, which now serves as an information centre for Nämdöskärgården, and walk the island’s stunning circuitous footpath. From the highest point, looking out east to the expanse of the Baltic Sea, it feels good to know this stretch of glistening ocean and all that lies beneath it will be protected.
Over breakfast on Idöborg, I chat to Ylva Tenselius, a Stockholm resident and consultant here on a work team-building trip. When she was growing up, her grandfather used to go out and catch cod all the time. “We would groan and say, ‘No more cod,’ when it was served at the dinner table,” she says, adding that she used to catch perch easily herself with a line, but now both are far less common. She welcomes the new marine park and its conservation goals. “We’ve seen the changes and now it’s time to protect it.”
When I get home to the UK, I call Charles Clover, co-founder of Blue Marine Foundation, an ocean conservation charity, which is campaigning for bottom trawling to be banned from all UK marine protected areas, to ask what he thinks about Nämdöskärgården. “Anything that protects breeding grounds for fish is a positive step,” he says. “The sea is in such a bad state, particularly the Baltic Sea, so I think these protected areas will bring enormous benefits. They will help repair the sea and help nature help itself.”
And he believes low-impact tourism, such as sea kayaking and hiking, can help with that process. “It creates a different use of nature, which is to enjoy it rather than to exploit, and that can only be a good thing.” I couldn’t agree more.
This trip was provided by Visit Sweden. A two-day kayak tour of the Stockholm archipelago with Stockholm Adventures costs 10,490 kronor (£830) for a group of up to four; other itineraries available. Idöborg forest cabins sleep two, from 2,000 kronor (around £160) a night.
Turkmenistan, a former Soviet state, welcomes very few foreign visitors a year and is centered around a strange capital, Ashgabat, that is largely empty. That may soon change.
Turkmenistan may soon be opening up to more tourists (Image: Anadolu Agency via Getty Images)
One of the most isolated and “strangest” countries in the world is preparing to open itself up to more visitors.
Former Soviet state Turkmenistan is a funny old place. Jordan Egbert, who runs the Counting Countries YouTube channel, offered his audience a peek into his travels through Turkmenistan, and concluded: “This is the strangest country in the world – there are no people around anywhere.”
Jordan was shocked to find out that the capital city, Ashgabat, was full of lavish monuments, sparkling shopping centres and hotels, but all of them were empty. “The question is, where is everyone?” he asked.
Its main tourist attraction is a large gas pit(Image: AFP via Getty Images)
The content creator also ventured into an airport that appeared to house more staff than travellers, before examining government buildings, a graveyard, and traditional nomadic tent settlements. He additionally revealed that Turkmenistan blocks access to most online platforms and applications, with Wi‑Fi being “pretty much non‑existent.”
Jordan discovered that even the tourist trail was deserted. A popular swimming spot and the famous Door to Hell gas crater were empty, as was a plush yurt camp. The YouTuber claimed that the capital’s airport had more staff than passengers.
There would be a good reason for that. Turkmenistan welcomes very few tourists each year. While exact figures are difficult to obtain due to the government’s secretive nature, most inbound estimates are well below 100,000 each year. Some put them as low as 7,000, in a country of seven million.
That could soon change, however. In April, the country’s legislature approved procedures enabling would‑be foreign visitors to obtain e‑visas, Eurasianet reported.
Jordan Egbert visited the country(Image: TikTok)
That should make obtaining a visa much easier than the current, complex, and baffling system, which can take months and result in a denial without any reason. Hopeful visitors have to score a Letter of Introduction from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs after booking their visit with a government‑approved tour operator, before the visa is granted, meaning you need to be willing to stump up money before your trip is guaranteed.
Although e‑visas have yet to come into force, when they do, it’ll be possible to get a visa online without needing a Letter of Introduction, according to CNN. Prospective holidaymakers will still need a “sponsor” in Turkmenistan, which means booking onto a tour.
Protected by a lush nature reserve and firmly out of the tourist spotlight, this beautiful three-mile beach needs to be on your bucket list – if you can actually get there
Getting to this beach isn’t easy, but is well worth the effort(Image: Getty Images)
Sugar-like sand, clear waters, and not a soul in sight – it’s hard to believe this secluded beach is in the UK. Tucked away in the west of Porthcawl, Wales, and sheltered by the Kenfig National Nature Reserve lies the golden bay of Sker Beach.
Boasting three miles of soft golden sand, this rural slice of coast has somehow managed to escape the tourist limelight – despite being a stone’s throw from the insufferably crowded Morfa Beach. It’s an idyllic spot, one that will make you feel like you’ve discovered your own tropical island and is great for those wanting to spend the day soaking up the sun or braving the cool, cobalt waters.
But, with no direct car park, getting to Sker Beach is no easy feat. In fact, you can only access the shore on foot, by walking from Rest Bay or the Kenfig National Nature Reserve. It’s a 20-minute walk from Rest Bay and a 40-minute walk to the nearest toilet – so make sure you come prepared.
Due to its rural location, there are no amenities on Sker Beach, so it’s essential you bring food, drink, and sun cream with you. Volunteer lifeguards patrol at certain times, but if there’s no flag, there’s no patrol.
“At low tide, a plaque in memory of all the lives lost on the S.S. Santampa and the Mumbles lifeboat is visible,” explained Bridgend County Borough Council. “At very low tides, wreckage can still be found.”
On TripAdvisor, the beach has received stellar reviews from travellers – who dubbed the coastal gem a ‘wild and wonderful place’. “It’s so lovely, [it’s] like being on the edge of the world,” one person hailed. “Definitely worth the walk.”
Another agreed, commenting: “[There’s] so much beach it feels deserted. Plenty of shelter in the dune areas, or on top of the pebble areas for reflection, reading a book or soaking up the sun!” while a third added: “This beach is one of the most unappreciated beaches in Wales. It has no tourists, no pretend surfers and no overcrowding.”
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Located some 173 miles from London, driving to Sker Beach will take around three hours and 22 minutes – followed by the 20-minute coastal walk. You can get indirect trains from the Big Smoke over to Pyle – which takes two hours and 37 minutes – for as little as £64.40.
You’ll then have to drive, or take a taxi, for six minutes to reach Kenfig National Nature Reserve and then walk to the beach. However, many travellers have slammed the car park here for issuing out hefty fines – so make sure you pay and don’t go over the time limit.
*Prices based on adult single fares on Trainline at the time of writing. Tickets may be cheaper if you have a Railcard.
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