Lake

I wasn’t sure what to expect from an autumn trip to Finland, my first ever to the country, but spending an afternoon sprawled on a deck chair beneath blazing blue skies certainly wasn’t part of it. After a morning walking beneath the leafy canopy at the Mustila Arboretum – the oldest, most extensive botanical garden in the country – and a lunchtime wine-tasting (more of which later), my friend Sara and I pitched up at the Sahanlahti resort, deep in the Finnish Lakeland, only to find sun-drenched scenery that felt far more Mediterranean than Nordic.

Sahanlahti was the second stop on a mid-September road trip from Helsinki to the shores of Lake Saimaa; a journey in search of ruska, the spectacular autumn colours that blaze for a few short weeks before the long Finnish winter sets in. However, on our opening drive east from the airport to the Radalla resort, set on Lake Urajärvi, most of the thousands of trees we drove past were resolutely green, with just the very tips of the leaves tinged with auburn, like a foliage balayage.

“You’re too early,” the waitress told us, cheerfully, after we had checked in to our chic waterfront cabins, and were tucking into hefty plates of crispy garlic chicken, scattered with freshly picked chanterelles, in Radalla’s quiet dining room. “But you might get some sun tomorrow.” Later, walking back to our cabins through thick drizzle, we agreed she was most probably just being kind.

The Radalla resort is just one of dozens of lakeside hotels scattered across southern Finland – many with self-catering cabins, sauna complexes and gleaming metal steps that lead from wooden piers down into the chilly waters of the lake. The grey drizzle we awoke to made a dip less than appealing, and instead we decided to set off for our next stop, taking in the arboretum en route before finding a place for lunch.

Driving in southern Finland turned out to be quite different from other countries. Most settlements fringe the lakesides, so they tend to be tucked away down side roads leading off from the main highway. Instead, trees – those resolutely green trees – rolled past us for mile after mile, until slowly the fields began to melt into lakes, one after another, the road snaking alongside the blue-grey waters, or stitching together small islets that lay scattered between them.

Googling somewhere for lunch, Sara came across the Ollinmäki winery, an unexpected find in a country that grows absolutely no grapes. Instead, berry wines are hugely popular, and once settled in at our table, we were persuaded to try a flight of six, accompanied by a bowl of hearty elk soup (which tasted considerably better than it looked) and a leaf salad with local cheese. One wine, the white currant and berry Myllärin Matti was particularly delicious, with the tang of a crisp sauvignon – although I wouldn’t want to find out what a Finnish hangover feels like.

From the winery it was an easy drive to Sahanlahti, by which time the weather had cleared and pin-sharp blue skies gleamed above the shores of Lake Saimaa. The main house – painted butterscotch-yellow and dating back to the mid-18th century, when the owners presided over the local sawmill – had a languidly old-fashioned air, but dinner at the Koskivahti restaurant was anything but: rich mushroom soup, slivers of goose confit with lingonberry sauce, wafer-thin beetroot carpaccio with tangy goat’s cheese.

It might have been too early for the leaves to turn, but we had arrived right in the middle of harvest season, when heading out into the fields and islands to pick wild mushrooms and berries (of which there are 35 different varieties) is practically a national sport. We had barely set down our bags at our final stop, Järvisydän resort, before we were whizzing out across Saimaa on a small motor boat, baskets tucked between our feet, to hunt for chanterelles and look for rare ringed seals and ospreys.

The sky was flawlessly blue as we whipped across the water, disembarking first to pick the mushrooms – slashes of bright yellow among the green undergrowth. We were guided in our harvesting by Sebastian, the 12th generation of the Heiskanen family to be running Järvisydän. “Back in 1654,” he told us, “my family were given a portion of land by the Russian tsar, to build a tavern on the route between St Petersburg and Helsinki.” More than 350 years later, the tavern has morphed into a 100-room resort, offering everything from starkly modern glass-walled cabins, high in the forest, to hexagonal log houses with bedrooms set off a central, fire-lit atrium, and camping pods.

It’s an extraordinary place: everything – from the vast reception, dwarfed by a replica Viking longship hull hung above reception, to the restaurants, bar and the Hobbit-like spa – is built entirely from local stone and timber. A visit to the spa seemed the perfect way to warm up after our chilly boat trip, with six different saunas to dip into – although the “sunken log” sauna, where the temperature reached 70C, gave me some sense of how an ice-cream might feel if left out in the sun.

Of the three resorts we visited, Järvisydän was the standout – for its history, for the spectacular scenery of Lake Saimaa that surrounds it, for the delicious mushroom soup and for the long, sunlit walk we took on our final afternoon, through the dense pine forest, where red squirrels skittered around in the branches above. It was a wrench to leave on our last morning, but as we sped back along quiet roads to Helsinki, we agreed Finland had – in spite of our foliage fail – outstripped our expectations. It was more beautiful, more peaceful, more sunkissed than we could ever have imagined.

Ruska (the vibrant colours of autumn foliage) begins in the north of the country in early to mid-September, reaching the Lake Saimaa region in the south by early October.

The trip was provided by Discover the World. A four-night bespoke self-drive trip staying at Radalla, Sahanlahti and Järvisydän resorts starts at £794pp, including B&B and car hire, but not flights.

REBEKAH Vardy is to swap the dolce vita of Italy for Burnley FC after hubby Jamie joined the Clarets yesterday.

The Wag, 44, will have to pack up her glam dresses to make the move from their £2million villa in Salò, Lake Garda, where former England striker Jamie played for Cremonese last season.

He is returning to England on a deal to the end of the season.

It means he is likely to relocate to the Lancashire town — 137 miles north of the family home in Grantham, Lincs.

It is hoped he will revive the Clarets after a bad start to the season.

Jamie, 39, said: “This club has a proper footballing history and passionate fans who deserve a team that represents them and their town. I can’t wait to get going on the pitch and help the team move in the right direction.”

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Rather than move full-time to Burnley, it is expected Becky will remain at their Grantham home near to where their children, Sofia and Ella, go to school.

She faces a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Turf Moor to see Jamie in action.

Becky is a regular at his games and previously spoke about getting more nervous than he does during matches.

She said: “Jamie is so laid back about football, he doesn’t get nervous.

“The only time I get nervous is when he has to take a penalty.

“It’s anxiety-inducing and I’m always so relieved when he hits the back of the net.”

Becky faced a public backlash after losing her 2022 “Wagatha Christie” High Court libel case with Coleen Rooney, over leaked Instagram stories.

Aug. 29 (UPI) — Ontario Premier Doug Ford on Saturday erected a massive sign saying “Lake Ontario — Now and Always” in a rebuke to President Donald Trump‘s move to rename the body of water Lake America.

The sign in Hamilton sits on the shores of Lake Ontario and measures 18 feet tall, nearly two stories. It also says in French, “Lac Ontario — Aujourd’hui et pour toujours.”

“I’m here on the shores of beautiful Lake Ontario, a crown jewel of our province and our country,” Ford said in a video statement posted on X. “You may have heard that President Trump is trying to rename this lake, all because he doesn’t like Ontario and Canada standing up for ourselves.”

“But let’s be serious,” he added. “Long before President Trump, this lake was called Lake Ontario, and long after President Trump is gone, it will still be called Lake Ontario.”

Trump on Thursday signed an executive order renaming Lake Ontario amid a trade dispute with Canada.

He called Canada “entitled” and repeated claims that the country has ripped off the United States for years.

Canadian Prime Minister said it would be called Lake Ontario “now and always.”

J. Conrad Sence, president of Seneca Nation, said, “The president cannot assert ownership over our culture or erase it through irresponsible political action.”

“His order should be rescinded and the name Lake Ontario should be left as it is, reflective of the Seneca people, other Haudenosaunee nations and all Indigenous people surrounding the lake,” Seneca said in a statement shared with WIVB.

“To us, Lake Ontario is not a political pawn,” he added. “It does not separate the countries of the United States and Canada. It is all Indigenous land, which has been occupied by Indigenous people since time immemorial.”

Aug. 28 (UPI) — The leader of the Seneca Nation on Friday called on President Donald Trump to reverse his decision to rename Lake Ontario as Lake America.

Trump on Thursday signed an executive order renaming the body of water amid a trade dispute with Canada.

J. Conrad Sence, president of Seneca Nation, said, “The president cannot assert ownership over our culture or erase it through irresponsible political action.”

“His order should be rescinded and the name Lake Ontario should be left as it is, reflective of the Seneca people, other Haudenosaunee nations and all Indigenous people surrounding the lake,” Seneca said in a statement shared with WIVB.

“To us, Lake Ontario is not a political pawn,” he added. “It does not separate the countries of the United States and Canada. It is all Indigenous land, which has been occupied by Indigenous people since time immemorial.”

Jérôme Marty, executive director at the International Association for Great Lakes Research, said the lake was named by indigenous people.

“They gave the name of Lake Ontario, and then this name was then used to give the name of the province of Ontario, so it’s certainly not the province of Ontario that gave the name of the Lake Ontario, but it’s the opposite,” Marty told WIVB. “It’s prior to Canada, the creation of the United States, it’s been there for a really, really long time.”

Conrad told WGRZ the people of the region will continue to call it Lake Ontario, and urged others to do the same.

In a statement, a White House spokesperson pushed back against the criticism.

“As the president said yesterday, the majority of the great lake’s volume sits in United States territory,” the spokesperson told WIVB. “Thanks to President Trump’s bold action, its name will now reflect its place in America and her heritage.”

Lake Ontario is called sga:nyodai:yoh in the Seneca language, meaning “beautiful lake,” WGRZ reported.

Trump has also changed the name of Alaska’s Mount Denali, an indigenous name, to Mount McKinley after the 25th president of the United States.

He also renamed the Gulf of Mexico to Gulf of America.

Nepal and China have paused rescue efforts for survivors of the devastating flash flood that hit the border region two days ago as a “barrier lake” formed during the disaster began to overflow.

Chinese rescue teams and vehicles were forced to pull back to safe ground, state broadcaster CCTV reported, as the risk of the lake bursting rose. Nepalese authorities also paused search operations for 90 minutes, an army officer confirmed.

The “barrier lake”, formed as Wednesday’s flash flood carried huge volumes of mud and debris down a steep valley, is threatening to unleash another huge and destructive wave.

In Nepal’s Rasuwa district, on the border with Tibet, residents were seen scrambling up hillsides to escape potential surges in the river level, according to the Reuters news agency.

The disaster unfolded as a glacier collapsed and sent a huge torrent of ice, water, rock, and mud down Himalayan river valleys, burying entire villages and destroying roads, bridges, and hydropower plants.

In its wake, leftover debris trapped water to form a barrier lake, a natural dam created when landslides block a river.

With water continuing to pour into the lake, the threat to downstream communities of another wave of flooding is rising.

China has deployed an engineering team to conduct aerial surveys and 3D modelling of the site. By Friday, the lake’s volume had swelled to more than 2.5 million cubic metres, up from the estimated 1.5 to 2 million cubic metres recorded just a day earlier.

Downstream in Nepal, officials received warnings that the lake had begun breaking its bank, according to Narendra Pariyar, the top administrator in the hard-hit Rasuwa district.

“We can see that the level of water in the river is rising,” he said, adding that the exact height of the surge remains unclear.

Relief supplies blocked

The death toll from the disaster has surpassed 470. On Friday, the Nepalese prime minister’s office reported 469 confirmed deaths, with 977 people still missing. About 1,550 people have been rescued.

Chinese authorities reported on Friday that the death toll in Tibet has now risen to at least five, with 558 missing.

Bishal Nath Upreti, president of the Nepal Centre for Disaster Management, told Al Jazeera that conditions are “extremely difficult” for those trapped in the disaster zone, as destroyed roads have left them completely cut off.

So far, about 800 people have been rescued by helicopter and 700 by land, with airlifts delivering vital aid to survivors.

Al Jazeera’s Katrina Yu, reporting from Beijing, said the number of missing is expected to rise. China has deployed about 500 military and paramilitary personnel and sent Premier Li Qiang to supervise operations on the ground, while Nepal has deployed 30,000 security personnel to search remote, cut-off valleys, she said.

More ⁠than ⁠90,000 people are estimated to have been affected ⁠by disaster, the ⁠Red Cross said on Friday, adding that the delivery of relief supplies has been blocked by the overflowing lake.

“We’re of course very concerned about the secondary flood,” said David Fisher, head of delegation ⁠for the International Federation ⁠of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies in ⁠Nepal.

WASHINGTON — President Trump said Thursday he is renaming Lake Ontario to be known as “Lake America” in the United States as he exacerbates his trade war with Canada.

The Republican president signed an executive order directing the Interior Department to update the lake’s name in the U.S. geographic naming service. Trump cannot force Canada to follow his preferred naming convention, however.

Trump has been floating the idea of the name change in recent days as the U.S. announced it was imposing 50% tariffs on $20 billion worth of Canadian goods over the weekend after talks between the countries broke down. Trump has been needling America’s northern neighbor since he returned to the White House last year, suggesting the ally with whom the U.S. once had warm relations instead should be absorbed as the 51st state.

Canada responded to Trump’s import taxes this week by imposing retaliatory tariffs on $20 billion worth of American goods, including steel, dairy products, appliances and farm equipment.

Trump, who signed the order as he was sitting at the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office, had a large sign behind him propped on a stand with a map of the Great Lakes. Over Lake Ontario, in big red letters, the map read “Lake America.”

On the other side of the president was another map with the words, “MAKING THE GREAT LAKES EVEN GREATER.”

The lake is one of multiple Great Lakes that the U.S. and Canada share borders along.

The office of Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

There is no single international body that determines names of international bodies of water, and Trump has wide latitude over how the U.S. government recognizes geographic places and landmarks.

Ontario Premier Doug Ford, who has traded insults with Trump, this week brushed aside the prospect of Trump changing the lake’s name as “a lot of rhetoric.”

The name Lake Ontario comes from the Huron Indigenous people’s word “oniatarí:io,” that means “lake of shining waters.” The province of Ontario, founded in 1867, took its name from the lake.

Trump said that while his action was not meant to send any particular geopolitical message, “Canada’s been ripping us off for a long time” on trade and military issues.

“They wanted to be treated like a state and they’re not a state,” the president said. “We just can’t do that anymore.”

“We love the people of Canada,” Trump added. “I don’t think their representatives do an appropriate job. Maybe they’ll change. I really don’t know. It doesn’t make much difference.”

The move is reminiscent of his move last year to rename the Gulf of Mexico as the “Gulf of America.”

Trump scribbled his name with a Sharpie pen on the executive order, then held it up for the cameras, offering, “And we filed all the necessary papers, documents, everything else.”

“We’ve notified all of the various people that we have to notify. So, we’ve done everything that you have to do,” he said. “And this is official, effective immediately.”

The executive order Trump signed shows that the changes, in fact, are supposed to be made within 30 days.

He also suggested his push to rename bodies of water may not be finished.

“So, if you think about it, we have a gulf and we have a lake. Now, all we need is an ocean,” Trump said. “So maybe we’ll have to change the name of the Atlantic and or the Pacific. Maybe we’ll change them.”

Price and Weissert write for the Associated Press. AP writer Rob Gillies in Toronto contributed to this report.

Aug. 27 (UPI) — President Donald Trump signed an executive order Thursday to rename Lake Ontario as “Lake America” after his dispute with Canada over tariffs last week.

Trump threatened to rename the lake Tuesday on Truth Social, saying, “The United States is giving serious consideration to changing the name of Lake Ontario to Lake America in that we don’t expect to be doing much business with Ontario any longer.”

“We’re going to be changing the name of Lake Ontario, effective immediately, to Lake America,” the president said just before signing the order.

In the Oval Office, a reporter asked what message he was trying to send with the renaming.

“No message,” he said. “As you know, Canada has been ripping us off for a long time on trade, very, very sadly. Even the military. You know, we defend Canada for nothing.”

Canada is a founding member of NATO.

The order says that within 30 days, Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum will update the Geographic Names Information System. The GNIS works with the U.S. Board on Geographic Names to standardize geographic names for federal use.

Trump renamed the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf of America and Mount Denali to Mount McKinley on his first day in office in 2025. He can’t force other countries or private entities to use the new names, but he can force the federal government to.

Because it’s an international boundary water, Canada and the U.S. jointly manage Lake Ontario through the International Joint Commission under the Boundary Waters Treaty of 1909.

The ferry cuts across the waters of Lake Biel, creating soft ripples, as if someone has taken a brushstroke to a blue canvas. To starboard, as we approach St Peter’s Island, are gentle mountains; to port side, lie golden fields. Straight ahead, the isle looks empty and Crusoe-esque.

On the jetty, Max Frey, a boatman, historian and guide, is waiting for me. He’s a man of dates and paperwork and pulls a handful from his satchel as he greets me, thrilled at the prospect of leading a tour; Switzerland’s Jura and Three Lakes region, this idyllic nook on the French border, is often overlooked by visitors.

“Welcome to paradise,” he says, raising his voice above the ferry engine thrum. “That’s how Jean-Jacques Rousseau felt about the island when he came in 1765. He was always running away from places, but spent the happiest days of his life here.”

Beach-fringed St Peter’s Island is now actually a peninsula (in the mid-19th century the level of the surrounding lake was lowered, creating a land bridge to the mainland) but it is still best reached by boat, and is car-free. With golden light falling on the sand and silver zander ghosting through the clear water, it undoubtedly feels heavenly. Rousseau – the philosopher, writer, composer, rebel who spent six weeks on the island in exile – wasn’t the only one to fall under its spell. “Alexandre Dumas and Goethe stayed, too,” says Max, proudly. “So did Joséphine Bonaparte, the first wife of Napoleon. When she arrived, it is said that more than 1,000 boats sailed on to the lake to see her.”

Home to the country’s gentlest summits, the Jura Mountains, and the glacial-blue lakes Biel, Neuchâtel and Murten – linked by the beautiful Zihl and Broye canals – the region is connected by regular ferries (perhaps it could offer an alternative to Greek or Croatian island hopping, only with better cheese). It’s also wine country, the lakesides fringed by tidy vineyards, and small towns such as Ligerz, La Neuveville, Le Landeron and Erlach contain dozens of understated family cellars.

I’m here on a three-day, DIY ferry-hopping trip, travelling from Biel to Murten, hiking, swimming, birding and wine tasting along the way. It’s a wholly different side to the Switzerland I’m used to – low on pomp, lower on price, but high on novelty.

The ferry journey to St Peter’s takes just 15 minutes from the mainland towns of La Neuveville or Ligerz (or 55 minutes from Biel, where I’d arrived from), and Max and I are as good as alone as we explore. Paths slalom through chestnut trees to empty coves. Butterflies flit by. A farmer cycles past to tend to an Angus herd grazing beside swans and reed-bed warblers on the shore. An information panel gives notice that St Peter’s was once home to Romans, then Benedictine monks who, it is said, with free rein on the island lured in the most beautiful girls from around the lake.

We explore the western side on foot, and vineyards take over from forests and sandy coves as we cross to the east. I arrive at my accommodation for the night, Hotel St Petersinsel, housed in a beautiful monastery dating back to 1127, complete with a restaurant courtyard, sarcophagi, Roman-era columns and a museum-piece bedroom where Rousseau slept. As dusk approaches, I dine alone on zander with lemon risotto and summer tomatoes with burrata from nearby Fribourg, paired with local wine.

The next morning, I start the day with a swim by the jetty as a heron flaps overhead. The Three Lakes are full of easily accessible swimming spots and beaches, but I’m alone apart from a family of ducks watching me from the sand. Afterwards, I hop on a ferry to Ligerz, a wine village halfway along Lake Biel’s northern banks on the Franco-German linguistic border.

Ligerz’s name is said to come from an ancient Roman settler, Ligerius, and it turns out to be a village bursting with grapes and bacchanal bliss. Every house seems to have its own vineyard plot leaning towards the shore, which is ideal if it’s lunchtime and a hike around pretty-as-pie St Michael’s Chapel has helped you work up a thirst.

Wine drinking in Switzerland has its challenges. The Swiss keep nearly all they produce and it’s pricey compared with German or Italian wine. But I arrive at Andrey Schafis, a fifth-generation family cellar overlooking the water, where drinkers on the restaurant terrace enjoy chilled lemony chasselas for 15 Swiss francs (£13.50) a bottle, accompanied by charcuterie and cheese. The feeling is less Alpine, more Amalfi.

“Almost everything we make is drunk here,” says Arielle Andrey, uncorking a bottle. We chat over a glass before she dashes off into the wood-beamed cellar to bring out more fresh-baked bread, cheese and wine.

With a spring in my step, I take the village’s Vinifuni – a short, steep funicular through the vineyards – all the way through a cleft in the limestone to the Tessenberg plateau and the petite village of Prêles in the shadow of Chasseral, Jura’s flat-topped mountain. This is a country of preposterously beautiful summits, and although this crest is a gentle one, the view from it is still one of the most dazzling; the fields below look like a gigantic eiderdown of gold and green stitched around three enormous patches of blue.

I follow the lonely path to the highest point through a forest of pine, then stand awhile on its observation deck beneath a 120-metre telecommunications tower that has all the exposed platforms, gantries and satellites of a rocket launch pad.

From here, I zigzag downhill to the village of Nods, as sleepy as it sounds, and then take a bus back to Prêles and the family-run Hôtel de l’Ours Prêles, sitting high above the lake. It isn’t the most celebrated address in the Alps, but it quickly becomes one of my favourites, because of its delightful hosts, Mélanie and Marcello Pigozzo. Marcello cheerfully brings me a cold BLZ beer from nearby Orvin and Mélanie serves an entrecôte steak and profiteroles on the terrace. My meal is soundtracked by bell-rattling cattle in the next-door field.

On my final morning, I take one last boat ride, a three-hour journey from Lake Biel via the Zihr canal to Lake Neuchâtel, and on via the Broye canal to Lake Murten and its lakeside fortress town. The ferry putters past radiant sunflower fields and fruit crops. While the verges are scattered with campsites, cycle paths and bird reserves, including La Grande Cariçaie, the country’s largest marshland, the medieval town of Murten is a time capsule.

Church spires soar, swifts nest in the towers and the battlements can be patrolled, offering a Mary Poppins view of old rooftops and stone chimneys. Beyond the ramparts, beneath a vivid blue sky, vineyards gather on the hazy hills and I watch the ferry depart on its sailing back to Biel. The horn blows. A heron takes flight. A dozing fisher stirs on the jetty. A different Switzerland is out there. You simply need to take the slow boat to find it.

The trip was provided by Jura & Trois Lacs, supported by Switzerland Tourism. St Petersinsel has doubles from £128 B&B and Hôtel de l’Ours Prêles has doubles from £175 B&B. A Swiss Travel Pass for three days covering all public transport, including lake ferries, costs £238

Aug. 16 (UPI) — Lake Powell, a vital man-made water reservoir on the Colorado River, has fallen to its lowest level on record as the U.S. West endures a severe, long-lasting drought, official statistics show.

The lake’s levels fell to 3519.91 feet on Saturday — low enough to break the record of 3,519.92 feet set in April 2023, according to a reading published Sunday by the Bureau of Reclamation.

Federal officials say the effects of long-term drought had reduced Colorado River Basin system storage to about 36% of capacity as of April. This was due to a combination of the lowest snowpack on record last winter and record-breaking heat in March, which intensified drought conditions across the river basin.

The situation has set off widespread concerns over elevated risks to the essential water and power infrastructure that supplies more than 40 million people across the West.

The lake, which spans Utah and Arizona, is a reservoir created by the Glen Canyon Dam in Page, Ariz.

The Bureau of Reclamation in April predicted Lake Powell’s water year minimum probable inflow at just 2.78 million acre-feet — only 29% of historical average and one of the lowest on record.

It also warned lake could decline to below 3,490 feet — the minimum power pool level — by this summer without major intervention.

If Glen Canyon Dam declines below that level, water releases would be restricted, creating “uncertainty for users, downstream impacts, instability in regional power and water supplies, and a reduction in power generation.”

Another vital reservoir in the Colorado River Basin, Lake Mead, is also currently at its lowest level since it was created in the 1930s.

The Bureau of Reclamation and the Department of the Interior remain “committed to reducing the collective risk of both Lake Powell and Lake Mead falling below critical elevations to protect critical infrastructure to continue to meet the water and hydropower needs of the basin,” a spokesman told CNN on Sunday.

Bardsea Alpacas and Llamas is a Cumbrian experience with a difference and if you’re visiting the Lake District, take a trip away from the tourists for this not to be missed day out

There’s no denying the Lake District is one of the most popular holiday destinations here in the UK.

From the majestic and ever popular Windermere to the atmospheric Derwent Water, year after year millions of tourists flock to Cumbria to take in the splendour and beauty of the landscape and chocolate box villages.

But with the stunning scenery and quaint villages comes another problem – especially in the school summer holidays – overcrowding from the sheer volume of tourists.

What you think will be an idyllic trip to, arguably, the most beautiful part of Britain can quickly turn into a race to find the last table at the cafe or the last spot to pop your picnic blanket down on the shore of a lake.

However, the Lake District isn’t all Cumbria has to offer – full disclaimer I was born and bred in this county – and if you step outside the National Park, a world of wonder could be waiting for you.

I spent the weekend in Cumbria and found one of these hidden gems, the Bardsea Alpacas and Llamas, nestled close to the picture perfect village of Bardsea in the Furness area of Cumbria.

Run by local couple, Ste and Laura, this is home to one of the largest herds of alpacas and llamas in Cumbria (and this year, also home to 13 baby alpacas, known as crias). It’s clear from the get go this is a real labour of love and passion project for the dedicated couple.

Once a day, the farm is open for pre-booked visits – either a walking experience, or a feed and meet – and after taking part I can honestly say this tops anything I’ve done in this wonderful county.

Since acquiring their first alpacas in 2019, Ste and Laura now have an impressive herd of 53 and you can tell these animals are absolutely adored. The farm is only open to the public on a booked experience, held just once a day to make sure everyone gets plenty of time with these lovely creatures and – most importantly – the animals themselves are happy.

I was given the walking experience as a Christmas present – this one will be hard to beat – and before we set off we were carefully matched with the alpaca or llama best suited to each person.

I was lucky enough to be paired with Rocky, a five-year-old fawn alpaca, described as “cheeky” but was the goodest boy you could ever meet.

Both alpacas and llamas are incredibly calm and placid animals who love nothing more than a gentle guided stroll through through the lush farmland, with many stops so you can give them treats – all included in the price of the experience. It’s fair to say Rocky loved his snacks (and I loved feeding them to him).

The sun was shining and it was an utterly idyllic experience. If you think the end of the walk would be the end of the experience, you would be wrong. Next you have some time interacting and feeding the boys of the herd – they’re kept separate from the ladies for obvious reasons – and it was unbelievably joyful.

Then, off we went to meet the ladies of the herd for another wonderful time feeding and watching them as they strolled around their huge home. We could also get up close to the babies (crias) although there’s a strict no touch policy until they’re old enough to be comfortable around humans. Animal welfare is paramount for Ste and Laura, who hold a 5-star animal welfare licence.

The couple explained the alpacas and llamas really enjoy their once a day visits from humans – they love the gentle walk and, in my experience, they clearly love the treats.

If you’re lucky enough to be visiting Cumbria this summer – or indeed at any time, other than the few months the farm is closed completely to visitors in the depths of winter – this needs to be top of your list. Quiet, off the beaten track, something completely different and absolutely enchanting.

For more information about booking an experience at Bardsea Alpacas and Llamas, please visit the website.