hike

The riverside was heaving. Families spilled from cafes. A marching band trooped on to the bridge, their tasselled metal helmets dazzling in the sun. Priests with bushy beards delivered ageless chants from beneath their cylindrical kalimavkion hats. Men let off shotguns, terrifying the air. Easter Monday in Lefkimmi.

We hadn’t planned this. Simply right place, right time. The capital of southern Corfu, Lefkimmi is a working town, untroubled by tourism. There are Venetian-style houses – variously neat, tatty and decrepit – but no “attractions” to speak of. Just Corfiots doing Corfiot things: chewing the fat in their finest for this religious celebration – Greek Orthodox Easter, which falls on 12 April in 2026 – plus zipping about on scooters, drinking coffee, buying baklava and ice-creams.

“Right place, right time” was my hope for this trip to over-loved Corfu, an island of about 100,000 that, in 2025, was visited by approaching 4 million people. I was returning with fond memories. My first ever foreign holiday was here, in 1986. That was the first time I saw an olive tree, realised water could be that blue, and heard such a cacophony of cicadas it seemed the bushes were electrically charged.

That was 40 years ago. Corfu – the green queen of the Ionian Sea, Gerald Durrell’s “garden of the gods” – was already popular. In the intervening decades, development has been rampant and infrastructure, from roads to water supply, struggles to cope with the summer influx. But how about visiting off-season and off-piste? Winter can be tricky, with many places shut, so my husband and I had chosen to come in spring, exploring largely on foot, via the Corfu trail.

The sun was warm, the land now awake from hibernation as we set out on the 110-mile (180km) route that runs the length of the island, from Kavos to Agios Spyridon. Wriggling along the more rugged, less developed west coast, with deviations into the central hills and wide Ropa valley, it then traverses the mountainous north, always seeking the way less trodden. You could travel by (limited) buses or hire car, but doing some walking is the best way to happen upon Corfu’s offbeat bits.

We covered between 8 and 20 miles a day, though there’s no need to do all that – most walk it much more slowly. But, with our luggage being transported ahead each night to an array of simple pensions, family tavernas and beach hotels, our shoulders were light, so we were keen to roam as much as we could, following the yellow and black signs, arrows daubed on rocks and the GPS files on our phones – the route was largely well marked.

Every day, there were wonders to discover: wizened Mitéra, a 1,500-year-old olive tree near Prasoudi beach; a profusion of wildflowers, in all hues – rosy garlic, hot-purple rock roses, punchy yellow sage; a magical ancient footway between Makrata and Ano Garouna that had fallen out of use until the Corfu trail was blazed 25 years ago. The path traversed a cypress-pierced hillside before plunging into dark, forgotten olive groves that concealed what looked like the remains of a lost city, but was in fact natural rock cloaked in moss.

A few hours after these “ruins”, we arrived in Sinarades and found ourselves at the bottom of a flight of stone steps leading into the Folklore Museum. It couldn’t be open, could it? But yes, Makis beckoned us into this 19th-century farmhouse (entrance a modest €3), empty of visitors but full of the stuff of Corfiot village life: fine costumes, farming paraphernalia, fig cutters, cobblers’ tools.

It was fascinating, getting these glimpses of old Corfu, invariably inland. In the northern mountain village of Sokraki, after the only downpour to spoil our sunny skies, we drank ginger beer at Emily’s cafe, still made the traditional way, using only water, lemon juice, sugar and ginger. Then we wove our way down the narrow streets to the Lithari Olive Oil Museum, where an old family press has been restored.

The following day, we visited Old Perithia, a 14th-century village tucked beneath Mount Pantokrator, the island’s highest point. Like many similar outposts, Perithia was abandoned in the 1960s; unlike many, it has been revived, and is now a lively, living cluster of homes, tavernas, honey shops and a characterful B&B. It was a hot day, so we flopped on to the shady terrace of O Foros cafe and lingered over fresh salad, homemade pie and tsigareli (garlicky wild greens), before descending to the coast via a long-lost path, only rediscovered during the Corfu trail’s creation.

Despite being ravishingly clear and a respectable 16C (60F), there were very few swimmers in the sea. Such was the case at Myrtiotissa, halfway up the west coast – the spot where Odysseus allegedly washed ashore, and widely known as a nudist beach. A steep, skinny track leads to this cliff-backed sliver of sand, a real Instagrammer snarl-up in summer. But when we walked down, road and beach were deserted enough for us to throw off our inhibitions and clothes, and frisk Nereid-like in the waves.

If there’s one stretch of Corfu coast not to miss it’s Erimitis, the “hermit” peninsula at the island’s north-east. There used to be a naval observation post here, keeping an eye on Albania, about 2 miles away. As such, Erimitis escaped tourist development, leaving it the last stand of pristine Corfiot nature: no villas, no olives, just a scrub of oaks, myrtles and strawberry trees, brackish lagoons, butterflies and birds, herbs and wild orchids, plus rare monk seals and seagrass offshore.

But it’s under threat. In 2012, the government sold the rights to develop a portion of Erimitis to foreign investors. Organisations such as Save Erimitis and the Ionian Environment Foundation are fighting to conserve it.

Leaving the Corfu trail for the day, we picked up a footpath linking upmarket Agios Stefanos to the fishing harbour of Kassiopi, via Erimitis’s edges, a walk of about 5.5 miles. Immediately, there was a different feel here; it was a place without human touch, where the water seemed even clearer. We walked through fairytale tunnels of trees and detoured down a trail that ended at a bank, where a rope dangled down to a forest-backed beach. With no one about, it seemed silly to bother putting on swimmers, so we skinny-dipped again, now accustomed to the temperature, and warmed by the smugness of being here, now, alone. Right time, right place.

The trip was provided by Walks Worldwide, whose 15-day, self-guided Corfu Trail costs from £1,129 (shorter itineraries available), including the whole route plus nights in Kalami, near Erimitis; thecorfutrail.com

BRITS are urged to apply for passports now before the price hike.

Holidaymakers have only 21 days before the application fees increase to £102.

From April 8, passport fees are set to rise sharply from £94.50 to £102.

It’s the third year in a row prices have gone up, meaning Brits will now pay 24% more for a passport compared to renewing back in January 2024.

And it gets worse if you apply by post, with fees jumping from £107 to £115.50 for adults.

Kids aren’t spared either, with children’s passports rising from £61.50 to £66.50 online, or from £74 to £80 by post.

HOT LIST

Where our travel experts will holiday this year – and how we found the best deals

GROUNDED

Another European airline cancels all flights to Dubai until summer

The Government says the increases are needed to make the system self-funded rather than relying on taxpayers.

Officials insist they’re not making a profit, with fees instead covering processing applications, supporting Brits overseas and managing UK border checks.

Standard applications take on average three weeks to process, which is the exact date when the new price comes into force.

So if you want a passport before the cost shoot up, you can apply for one-day premium service.

And be quick as the premium service will go up from from £222 to £239.50 in April as well.

There is no such thing as a day of rest for artist Kenny Scharf, not even Sunday. “I wake up super early. It’s still dark outside,” the Los Angeles native says.

Rising before the sun anchors his active day. “I always have to keep moving,” Scharf says. “Otherwise, I’ll get very depressed.”

An avid hiker and swimmer, Scharf, 67, also maintains a disciplined yoga practice and cycles daily from his Culver City home to his Inglewood studio. There almost everything serves as a canvas, including painted trash doubling as decor and the silkscreened couch on which he’s seated.

In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.

“I don’t like to waste good paint and silkscreen ink. Why wash it? We apply it everywhere until we use it up,” Scharf says.

Scharf, who grew up in the Valley before making his way to New York City, first gained acclaim in the ‘80s East Village art scene alongside his friends and contemporaries Jean-Michel Basquiat and Keith Haring, his former roommate. The trio also befriended Andy Warhol, who predicted Scharf’s fame.

Renowned for his self-coined “pop surrealism,” Scharf often populates his bold, colorful work with grinning cartoon faces, elastic blobs, and sci-fi creatures floating through cosmic landscapes. Anxieties about overconsumption and environmental degradation lie beneath the playfulness.

Like their creator, Scharf’s works are always on the move, either rolling down the street on the cars he’s painted — featured in his recently published book “Karbombz!” — or traveling to forthcoming exhibitions in Wuhan, Tokyo and Paris.

This interview has been lightly edited and condensed for length and clarity.

5:30 a.m.: Wake up and feed the cats.

My cats, Cutie and Socks — one’s a tabby and the other is a tuxedo cat — wake me up by mewing and walking on me. They’re like, “Hey, I’m hungry.” So I get up and crack open the cans. They like that disgusting, smelly canned food. And then they go out into the yard.

I got the cats because I went to New York for a show. I was gone for five days and I live next to a park, so there are a lot of animals. I came back and my entire house was overrun by mice. I was like, “What the hell am I gonna do? I need cats.” The mice are gone and now I have these cats. They’re so cute and so much fun. They take over my life.

6 a.m.: Detox

I make lemon and hot water. It’s a good way to start the day and clear out the toxins. Right now, I have a lot of citrus because Ed Ruscha’s studio is across the street from my house, and in the back of the studio he has a citrus farm. I go there, especially during this time of year, and get bags of citrus. It’s like a farm community in the middle of L.A. I love L.A. because you can surround yourself with trees and gardens and kind of pretend that you’re not living in a giant metropolitan area.

8:30 a.m.: Iyengar yoga

An Iyengar yoga instructor comes to my house. I find Iyengar is great for aging. You use ropes and gravity to hang and do different things, using your body weight so you can relax into the positions. I also have a swing to go upside down on. When people walk into my living room, they go, “What’s going on here?” because of the ropes on the wall.

In the summer, I’ll go to the beach in Venice and swim in the ocean. It’s wonderful when I’m out in the water. It’s cathartic and cleansing, and sometimes I see dolphins. I’ll go early in the morning before the crowds come.

11:30 a.m.: Mar Vista Farmers’ Market

It’s fun to go there with my daughter Zena, who’s a chef, and my grandkids. We stroll around and get food. All the food stands are delicious. I grew up here in L.A., so I’m into Mexican food. I don’t really want to eat American food. I’m not into hamburgers. I want all the stuff with the culture. I like hot and spicy.

I also buy apples and berries, whatever I can’t grow, because I grow my own food at home.

And I buy stuff from an Indian man who sells Chyawanprash, which is kind of a jam. It’s really concentrated and like an elixir. He also sells Shilajit, which almost looks like tar. You put a little bit under your tongue and it dissolves, and it’s got like every single mineral in it.

2 p.m.: Painting at the studio

I’m painting seven days a week, but I really love coming here on Sundays because nobody’s here and the phone doesn’t ring. Sometimes, my granddaughter, Lua, will come. She paints. Upstairs at the studio I have a little painting area with easels for my grandkids, but my grandson, Jet, isn’t that into painting. I do my work, and Lua’s up there keeping herself busy painting, and it’s great.

Kenny Scharf in his paint-splattered studio he bikes to every day.

(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)

5 p.m.: Hike

The easiest one is right behind my house. It goes up to the top of the Baldwin Hills Scenic Overlook where the [Culver City] Stairs go. It’s one of the best views in all of L.A. You can see from the airport to the ocean, downtown, Mount Baldy. You can see almost all the way to Palm Springs, Mount San Gorgonio. The view is amazing.

We also hike a lot in Kenneth Hahn [State Recreation Area].

My grandkids often like to go on a waterfall hike, so there are a couple in Malibu. There are also a couple over in the San Gabriel [Mountains]. We’ll get into the car and drive an hour and hike.

6:30 p.m.: Dinner at a restaurant

Zena, Lua and Jet live close to me, so we have dinner together at least three or four times a week. Because Zena’s a chef, we don’t go out to eat that often, but sometimes we go to a restaurant called Madre that I love. It’s on National [Boulevard]. The food is so good. They often have squash blossoms. They fry them and put a little cheese in them.

I also love Gjelina in Venice. Sometimes I take people from Europe there because it is quintessential California. All the food they make is from the farmers market, so you get a tomato salad with incredible tomatoes.

8 p.m.: Read

I just finished Patti Smith’s latest book, “Bread of Angels.” It’s beautiful. I love her. I saw her perform at Disney Hall recently, and she was selling this book. I actually saw her perform at the Santa Monica Civic [Auditorium] when I was 19. I’d been wanting to move to New York for a lot of reasons, but when I saw her performance, it was, “I’m moving there.” There was so much energy in her.

9 p.m.: Bedtime

Usually I’m in bed by 9 and asleep by 10. When I was young, I was very involved in nightlife. I was working in nightclubs, all of my friends were in nightclubs, so I lived that big time. But now I’m jaded. I don’t want to sound above it all, but I don’t see anything going on that I’m getting excited about the way it was. And I’m not a nostalgic person, so I choose not to go out. I’m happier getting a good night’s sleep.

Mukalla, Yemen – A reported decision to impose thousands of dollars in fees on shipping headed for Yemen has experts worried that the price of imported goods and food will increase in the war-torn country, as it starts to feel the economic impact of the United States and Israel’s conflict with Iran.

Local traders and officials have said that international shipping companies informed importers earlier this month of the imposition of new fees of about $3,000 on each container bound for Yemen, described as “war risk” fees. The surprise move prompted government officials to scramble to assess and address its potential repercussions.

Because Yemen imports nearly 90 percent of its food and other essential commodities, economists and humanitarian organisations warn that the rise in shipping and insurance costs could quickly translate into higher prices for fuel, food and other goods, further worsening an already dire humanitarian situation.

Mohsen al-Amri, transport minister in Yemen’s internationally-recognised government based in the southern city of Aden, said he had instructed that the fees not be paid by ships already docked at Yemeni ports or those bound for the country, insisting that the ports remain safe.

“Our ports are far from the areas of geopolitical tension in the Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz, making the imposition of ‘risk’ fees on shipments to these relatively safe areas unjustified from both operational and security perspectives,” he said in a social media post last week.

Al Jazeera has reached out to shipping companies to confirm details of the fee, but has yet to receive responses.

For more than a decade, Yemen has been gripped by a bloody war between the Saudi-backed government, based in Aden, and the Iran-aligned Houthi movement, which controls the capital, Sanaa. The conflict has killed and wounded thousands of people and displaced millions, creating what the United Nations once described as the world’s worst humanitarian crisis. Hostilities have significantly declined since April 2022, when the warring parties agreed to a temporary United Nations-brokered truce.

‘High-risk’

Abdulrab al-Khulaqui, deputy chairman of the Yemen Gulf of Aden Ports Corporation, said Yemeni ports have long been classified as high-risk, prompting shipping companies to impose war-risk surcharges. These can reach about $500 per each 20-foot container and $1,000 per each 40-foot container, on top of regular shipping costs.

Al-Khulaqui said that the $3,000 fee now being demanded was “very high and unusual”, but was justified by shipping companies because they regard Yemeni ports as unsafe, despite their distance from Iran.

Although the Houthis are allied to Iran and previously attacked shipping in the Red Sea following Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza, the Yemeni group has yet to intervene in the US-Israel-Iran conflict. Other Yemeni parties are also not involved, making Yemen one of the few regional countries yet to see any violence related to the fighting.

In addition to barring local traders from paying the new charges, the Yemeni government is considering other measures to pressure shipping companies to cancel the fees, including threatening to stop vessels belonging to those companies from docking at Yemeni ports. Authorities may also allow traders to contact exporters directly in countries of origin to negotiate any additional charges.

The new surcharges come as the United Nations has again sounded the alarm over Yemen’s worsening humanitarian situation, saying nearly 65.4 percent of the population – about 23.1 million people – will require urgent humanitarian assistance and protection services this year. This marks an increase of roughly 3.5 million people compared with 2025.

“Yemen continues to face an escalating food security crisis entering 2026,” the World Food Program said in its February Yemen Food Security Update, released on March 5. “January data revealed that 63 percent of households nationwide are struggling to meet their minimum food needs, including 36 percent facing severe food deprivation.”

Bypassing Yemen’s ports

In addition to rising insurance fees on shipments to Yemen, the war in Iran and potential disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz could cut vital supply routes from regional hub ports such as Jebel Ali in the United Arab Emirates.

Mustafa Nasr, head of the Studies and Economic Media Center, told Al Jazeera that shipping companies may begin seeking alternative hub ports to deliver goods to Yemen, which could increase costs and cause delays.

“The closure of Jebel Ali port would force shipping lines to seek alternative ports that may be farther away and involve significantly higher transportation costs,” he said.

Nabil Abdullah Bin Aifan, manager of the government-run Maritime Affairs Authority in Hadramout province and a maritime researcher, said most goods arriving at Mukalla port – the province’s main seaport – are transported on wooden dhows from Dubai.

He said that if disruptions occur in the Strait of Hormuz, traders may turn to alternative regional hub ports such as Salalah in Oman or Jeddah in Saudi Arabia.

“Large ships come to Dubai to unload their containers, and traders then unload the goods from the containers and load them onto those primitive ships, which have no insurance,” Bin Aifan told Al Jazeera.

For now, wheat shipments from Ukraine and goods transported from China to Yemen may see price increases due to rising insurance costs, while products imported from Gulf countries could disappear from the market.

Shipping lines may also consider routing cargo through the Cape of Good Hope rather than the Gulf, Bin Aifan said.

“Even before the recent developments involving Iran, ports in our region were considered high risk. However, after the relative calm that followed the halt to Houthi attacks in the Red Sea, confidence gradually returned and ships began sailing back to the region. Now, the war has brought the problem back again,” he said.

All of this means that Yemenis, already struggling with poverty and hunger after years of war, will likely have to pay more for imported food and goods.

Abdullah al-Hadad, an English teacher from the city of Taiz with 40 years of experience in the profession, said that his monthly salary – less than $80 – is already not enough to cover his basic needs. Meat and fish have become luxuries for his family, and he still owes nearly one million Yemeni riyals (about $670) to a local grocery shop.

To make ends meet, he works additional jobs as a taxi driver and in a grocery store, while his children also work after school to help support the family and pay for medication for his 10-year-old son, who has autism.

“What I suffer from as a government employee is the extremely low salary, which does not even cover basic necessities such as bread, tea, salt and sugar,” al-Hadad told Al Jazeera.

“Other foods that are essential for a healthy diet, like meat or fish, have become a distant dream.”