The island was named the sunniest place in the UK by the Met Office – and it gets more sunshine than parts of Italy during the winter months
The stunning island is the ‘sunniest place in the UK’(Image: nicolamargaret via Getty Images)
You don’t need to jet off to far-flung destinations for a dose of winter sun – there’s a UK island that boasts more sunshine than parts of Italy.
The Isle of Wight has been crowned the sunniest spot in the UK by the Met Office, outshining even Milan and Geneva during the winter months.
According to research from Isle Escapes, the island enjoys an average of 78 hours of sunshine per month between November and February.
That’s a staggering 12 percent more than Milan’s 70 average hours, 15 percent more than Geneva’s 68 hours, and 20 percent more than Paris’ 65 average winter sunshine hours.
This balmy climate could be due to the warming effect of the Solent – the strait that separates the Isle of Wight from mainland England, reports the Express.
The island benefits from its own micro-climate, which means it typically avoids extreme weather conditions like heavy snowfall and thunderstorms during the winter season.
Not only is it the sunniest place in the UK, but this is particularly noticeable during the winter, when the Isle of Wight basks in 42 percent more sunshine hours than the rest of the country.
If you’re keen to soak up some of this sun for yourself, the Isle of Wight offers a fantastic island getaway without straying too far from home.
Located just off the coast of Hampshire, the island is renowned as Britain’s dinosaur capital, with the remains of over 20 species discovered on the island.
The Isle of Wight is a top-notch destination for cycling enthusiasts, boasting numerous tracks and paths that crisscross the island.
For those up to the challenge, you can cycle around the island in a day – a well-signposted route of approximately 105km.
While mostly flat, there are some inclines that will give your thighs a workout, and it can get breezy, so be prepared.
If you’re after a more laid-back holiday, the Isle of Wight has plenty to offer. There’s a host of family-friendly attractions, including the Monkey Haven animal sanctuary, home to meerkats, gibbons, and even snakes, all cared for by keepers who love to chat about their work.
History buffs can visit Osborne – Queen Victoria’s country retreat and family home, now open for tours. After her first visit to Osborne, Queen Victoria wrote: ‘It is impossible to imagine a prettier spot’, and she wasn’t wrong.
A trip to Osborne offers something for everyone. Inside the house, you’ll get a glimpse into Royal life as you explore private apartments and grand reception rooms filled with beautiful furnishings and artworks from the Royal Collection.
And if the sun is out (which it likely will be), you can stroll through flower-filled gardens and relax on the beach where the Royal children learnt to swim.
If you’re yearning for a trip to the Isle of Wight, it’s easy to reach from mainland UK. Daily flights depart from Heathrow and Gatwick, or you can opt to fly to Bournemouth or Southampton before hopping on one of the 150 ferry connections to the island which take as little as 45 minutes.
Since the Isle of Wight is part of the UK, there’s no need for your passport – just pack your bag and perhaps a sunhat.
There are plenty of beautiful destinations around the United Kingdom that would make for an ideal autumn holiday, and this place will have you daydreaming
Ettrick Bay Beach is just lovely(Image: Ken Jack/Getty Images)
When it comes to Scottish holidays, summer is the go-to season for most. Yet, autumn has its own charm and advantages that make it an ideal time for a staycation.
If you’re keen on avoiding the hustle and bustle, September and October offer a quieter getaway. The rainy weather also makes autumn perfect for a snug retreat. Scotland boasts numerous stunning destinations for an ideal autumn holiday. However, one often overlooked gem is the Isle of Bute in the Firth of Clyde.
Bute is the most accessible of the western isles from Scotland’s Central Belt, making it a particularly appealing choice for Glaswegians. The island is famed for its verdant landscapes and unique attractions.
Even if you aren’t a history buff, Rothesay Castle is well worth your time(Image: tekinturkdogan / Getty Images)
The capital town of Bute is Rothesay, reachable via ferry from Wemyss Bay on the Scottish mainland. Despite its small population of around 4,300 people, Rothesay offers plenty to explore, reports the Daily Record.
One of the must-see sights in Rothesay is the ruined 13th century Rothesay Castle. Known for its connections to the Stewart kings of Scotland, the castle once served as a defence against Viking invasions.
Additionally, the Bute Museum in Rothesay is a fantastic place to delve into the island’s archaeology and history. With insightful exhibits documenting Bute’s past, the museum’s incredible artefacts are sure to leave you awestruck.
The beautiful island is easily accessible from the Scottish mainland(Image: ekinturkdogan / Getty Images)
Rothesay is a foodie’s paradise, boasting a plethora of restaurants and cafés. Top picks include the charming Kettledrum café and the Black Bull Inn gastropub. Beyond Rothesay, there’s plenty to keep everyone entertained. Ettrick Bay Beach, with its mile-long sandy stretch, is perfect for a picturesque stroll, while Mount Stuart, a grand 19th-century mansion, offers lavish interiors and stunning gardens to wander through.
For those looking to stay on Bute, Wowcher currently has a deal for up to four people at Chandlers Seaview Cottage on the island’s east coast, offering a 30% discount. The cottage features a king-size bed, a sofa bed, a contemporary kitchen, dining area, lounge, and a private garden complete with patio.
Typically, a stay at Chandlers Seaview Cottage would set you back £283.58 approximately. However, with this voucher deal, holidaymakers can snap it up for just £199. The Wowcher offer also includes a spa hamper and a welcome grocery pack. Plus, guests will have exclusive access to a hot tub boasting panoramic sea views.
Alternatively, another accommodation option on the Isle of Bute is Ettrick Cottage, available for hire via Sykes Holiday Cottages at £591 for a three-night stay. Situated approximately five miles from Rothesay, the property sleeps two and boasts one bedroom.
Ettrick Cottage boasts an open-plan living area featuring a kitchen, dining space, and lounge complete with electric fireplace. The property includes outdoor decking and a grass garden equipped with seating plus a babbling brook. According to Sykes Holiday Cottages, the accommodation has received glowing feedback from visitors.
Former guests have praised it as “wonderful” and “lovely”, although the property’s compact dimensions might not suit all holiday-makers. Meanwhile, Bute offers several hotels for those seeking more conventional holiday lodgings. These include The Glenburn Hotel which boasts views across Rothesay Bay and The Victoria Hotel situated in Rothesay’s heart.
I moved to Stockholm from London for work a decade ago. As a newcomer with a passion for nature, I remember being eager to soak up the region’s archipelago of 30,000 islands and rocky outposts. But I was overwhelmed by complex public ferry timetables to dozens of places ending in the letter “ö” (the Swedish word for island) and uninterested in pricey cruise boats packed with tour groups.
Then a former flatmate recommended Nynäshamn, which is on the mainland but embodies much of the nature and spirit of Stockholm’s archipelago. It’s home to a tasteful waterfront of colourfully painted bars and restaurants and a harbour packed with boats every summer, from simple dinghies to luxury yachts. Beyond, you can look across a clean, calm stretch of Baltic Sea, towards the island of Bedarön, flanked by pine trees and a smattering of dark red detached houses.
Mention Nynäshamn to Stockholmers and most will probably describe it as the port you pass through to catch the four-hour ferry to Gotland – Sweden’s largest island – or an overnight cruise to Gdańsk in Poland. But for international tourists (or new Swedish residents, as I was), it is an entry-level coastal destination where you can get a taste of the city’s island life without the complex logistics.
Nynäshamn is on the commuter rail line from central Stockholm, and reachable in an hour. A one-way journey costs 43 kroner (£3.30), or it’s free if you have a valid monthly or weekly pass for the capital’s public transport system. For a little more adventure, it takes a further 30 minutes to reach Nåttarö, the closest island accessible by a public ferry service (£8 each way).
Nynäshamn’s pleasures are just an hour by train from Stockholm. Photograph: Zoonar/Alamy
My first destination in Nynäshamn is Trehörningen,an island suburb accessible by bridge, and just a 30-minute stroll from the train station. The route takes in a mishmash of glassy new-build apartments, low-rise 1960s rent-controlled flats and mansions with manicured gardens. Nynäshamn doesn’t have the swagger of swankier seaside towns in the region, such as Sandhamn or Saltsjöbaden, but it offers a slice of real-life small town Sweden far removed from the well-trodden tourist itineraries that typically lead to Stockholm’s medieval Old Town or isolated rural retreats.
“It’s very good for my health,” says Hans “Hasse” Larsson, a smiley 73-year-old former truck driver who moved to Nynäshamn from Stockholm 16 years ago. He enjoys the clean air and quiet lifestyle, and describes a stronger sense of community compared with the somewhat stiffer Swedish capital. “Even if you don’t know people very well, you’ll say ‘hej’!” he laughs.
Sweden isn’t a budget destination, but thanks to a favourable exchange rate, prices aren’t extortionate compared with those in popular British seaside destinations I’ve visited, such as Brighton or St Ives. On Trehörningen island, it costs from just over £100 a night to rent a compact wooden cottage for two from Oskarsgatan 12 B&B. A breakfast buffet and spa entry package at the nearby Nynäs Havsbad hotel works out at around £45. The spa’s pavilion is a reconstruction of an art nouveau-inspired resort built in 1906, complete with an outdoor hot tub, a sauna and panoramic views. The hotel complex includes original buildings from the early 20th century, when it was a base for sailors during the 1912 Stockholm Olympic Games.
From here, it’s a short walk to Strandvägen, a French riviera-inspired waterfront road built for spectators of sailing. As locals will proudly tell you, it is the only place in the Stockholm archipelago region where you can see the horizon from the mainland. The scenic route winds towards Lövhagen, a wooded area offering shady trails and picnic tables. There are rocky swimming coves too – although, with average outdoor temperatures of 18C in July and August, the chilly waters won’t be to everyone’s taste.
The spa pavilion of the Nynäs Havsbad hotel is a reconstruction of a 1906 art nouveau-inspired resort
For walkers, Nynäshamn is also a gateway to Sörmlandsleden, a system of hiking trails covering around 620 miles in total and clearly marked with orange arrows and painted tree markers. Section 5:1 from Nynäshamn passes through mossy forests and grassy farmland to the village of Osmö, where you can catch a train back to Nynäshamn or continue another nine miles to Hemfosa, snaking past Lake Muskan’s glistening waters.
Back at Nynäshamn’s main harbour, the restaurants are filling up with tourists hungry for lunch. The most famous spot is Nynäs Rökeri, a smokehouse dating back almost 40 years, where a platter of smoked salmon, seafood and potato salad costs less than £20. The adjacent delicatessen stocks fresh fish and classic Swedish treats, from cheesy västerbotten pie to crispbreads and lingonberry jam. A nearby courtyard is shared with customers visiting the ice-cream store Lejonet & Björnen, a small cafe and a gift shop.
The sweet smell of cinnamon wafts in the air and I spot the familiar logo of Skeppsbro Bageri, an award-winning Stockholm bakery that has a food truck parked on the waterfront, packed with fresh bread, buns and pastries. “I like it here,” says Emelie Elison, the 24-year-old student who is working in the van for her third summer in a row. “There are a lot of people and there’s always something happening.”
Emelie Elison in the Skeppsbro bakery truck. Photograph: Maddy Savage
Sweden’s cities empty out in July, as locals flock to the coast to spend the summer in wooden holiday cottages. There are more than 600,000 of these holiday homes, known as fritidshus, which are often passed down through generations; almost half of children with at least one Swedish parent have access to one. They also have plenty of time to enjoy them – most Swedish employees are entitled to four consecutive weeks off each summer.
After a grey morning, the sun comes out as I join the ferry queue for Nåttarö. Many around me are armed with bags of groceries, backpacks and even suitcases, intending to stay at least a week. But one sporty-looking couple, carrying only tiny running backpacks, tell me they are fellow day-trippers from Stockholm, planning to run a six-mile loop of the Stockholm Archipelago Trail, a newly marked hiking and trail-running route stretching 167 miles across 20 islands.
Most tourists visiting Nåttarö take things at a slower pace. It’s a small, car-free island with one simple convenience store and two restaurants by the harbour. The main draws are the pine-lined walking trails, rocky clifftops and sandy beaches. There are 50 wooden cabins for hire (sleeping up to six people, £90 a night). The campsite is priced at less than £5 a night, including access to pristine showers, compost toilets and dishwashing facilities. Wild camping is allowed too, thanks to allemansrätten, Sweden’s right to roam policy.
I take a 1¼-mile trail to Skarsand, a small beach in the north-east of the island. I have fond memories of celebrating a friend’s 40th birthday here a couple of years ago, when we camped with friends and their kids, cooking dinner on the beach’s public grill. Today, despite being peak holiday season, I have it all to myself, save for some passing hikers.
The sunny afternoon passes quickly, and a couple of hours later I’m back on the ferry for Nynäshamn. The Stockholm pair have made it too, having successfully completed their run. They are eagerly awaiting a pizza reward at Maggan’s, another popular restaurant in Nynäshamn’s harbour, and tell me they’ve squeezed clean T-shirts into their backpacks to change into. I’m planning a sunny evening drink on the waterfront too. Tomorrow I’ll be at my desk, catching up on emails – and researching my next coastal adventure.
Zombies were dormant when screenwriter Alex Garland convinced director Danny Boyle to resurrect the undead — and make them run. The galloping ghouls in their low-budget 2002 thriller “28 Days Later” reinvigorated the genre. There’s now been so many of them that they’ve come to feel moldy. So Garland and Boyle have teamed up again to see if there’s life in these old bones.
There is, albeit sporadically and spasmodically. “28 Years Later,” the first entry of a promised trilogy, has a dull central plot beefed up by unusual ambition, quirky side characters and maniacal editing. It’s a kooky spectacle, a movie that aggressively cuts from moments of philosophy to violence, from pathos to comedy. Tonally, it’s an ungainly creature. From scene to scene, it lurches like the brain doesn’t know what the body is doing. Garland and Boyle don’t want the audience to know either, at least not yet.
The plot picks up nearly three decades into a viral “rage” pandemic that’s isolated the British Isles from the civilized world. A couple hundred people have settled into a safe-enough life on Lindisfarne, an island that’s less than a mile from shore. The tide recedes every day for a few hours, long enough to walk across a narrow strip of causeway to the mainland. Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and Isla (Jodie Comer) were young when normality collapsed, roughly the same age as the kids in the film’s cheeky opening flashback who are watching a VHS tape of “Teletubbies” while hearing the screams of their babysitters getting bitten. But these survivors have managed to grow up and become parents themselves. Given their harsh circumstances, Jamie and Isla have called their son Spike.
Name notwithstanding, 12-year-old Spike (Alfie Williams) is a sweet kid. When his father slips him a precious ration of bacon, he gives his share to his mother, who now lies weak and confused in an upstairs bedroom. The script pushes too hard to make Spike naive — blank and moldable — instead of what narrative logic tells us he is, the hardscrabble child of two stunted children. His career paths are hunter, forager or watchtower guard, but he seems more like the product of a progressive Montessori school, even with his dad urging him to cackle at shredded deer intestines. When the boy’s not looking, Jamie’s shoulders sag as he trudges up the stairs to Isla’s sickbed, showing us a hint of adult complexities he alone understands.
Spike’s storyline is a fairly simple coming-of-age journey. Once he’s slayed his first infected (“The more you kill, the easier it gets,” his dad gloats), Spike decides to sneak his sick mother to the mainland in search of a mythological being: a general medical practitioner. But straightaway, the movie’s editing (by Jon Harris) starts having a fit, seizing our attention as it splices in herky-jerky black-and-white archival footage of earlier generations of kids marching to protect their homes, both in newsreels and classical retellings including Laurence Olivier’s 1944 film of “Henry V.” The chilling electronic score by the Scottish group Young Fathers blurps and drones while an unseen voice recites Rudyard Kipling’s “Boots,” a poem about the grinding Boer War that was first published in 1903, but whose sense of slogging exhaustion sounds just as relevant to us as it would to Beowulf. These theatrics sound fancy, but they play deliberately abrasive and confounding. “28 Days Later” forced the audience to adapt to the ugliness of digital cameras, and despite the years and prestige that Garland and Boyle have accumulated since, they’ve still got a punk streak.
The filmmakers seem to be making the point that our own kinder, gentler idealism is the outlier. Humankind’s natural state is struggle and division. In this evocative setting, with its crumbling castle towers and tattered English flags, we’re elbowed to think of battles, from Brexit to the Vikings, who first attacked the British on this very same island in 793. A 9th century account describes the Lindisfarne massacre as nightmarish scenes of blood and trampling and terror, of “heathen men made lamentable havoc.” Those words could have been recycled into “28 Years Later’s” pitch deck.
As a side note, Lindisfarne remains so small and remote that it doesn’t even have any doctors today. The one we meet, Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), doesn’t show up until the last act. But he’s worth the wait, as is the messianic Jimmy (Jack O’Connell), who appears three minutes before the end credits and successfully gets us excited for the sequel, which has already been shot. (Jimmy’s tracksuits and bleached hair are evidence that his understanding of pop culture really did stop at Eminem.) Their characters inject so much energy into the movie that Boyle and Garland seem to be rationing their best material as strictly as Spike denies himself that slice of pork.
This confounding and headstrong movie doesn’t reveal everything it’s after. But it’s an intriguing comment on human progress. The uninfected Brits have had to rewind their society back a millennium. When a Swedish sailor named Erik (Edvin Ryding, marvelous) is forced ashore, he talks down to all the Brits like they’re cavemen. They’ve never even seen an iPhone (although the movie was itself shot on them). Upon seeing a picture of a modern Instagram babe plumped to a Kardashian ripeness, Spike gasps, “What’s wrong with her face?”
The infected ones have regressed further still and they’ve split into two sub-species: the grub-like “slow-low” zombies, who suck up worms with a vile slurp, and the Neanderthalish sprinters who hunt in packs. The fast ones even have an alpha (Chi Lewis-Parry) who is hellbent on taking big strides forward. One funny way he shows it is he’s made a hobby of ripping off his prey’s heads to use their spines as tools, or maybe even as décor.
Dr. Kelson, a shaman, sculptor and anthropologist, insists that even the infected still share a common humanity. “Every skull has had a thought,” he says, stabbing a freshly decapitated one with his pitchfork. He’s made an art of honoring death over these decades and his occasionally hallucinatory sequence is truly emotional, even if Fiennes, smeared with iodine and resembling a jaundiced Colonel Kurtz, made me burst out into giggles at the way he says “placenta.” Yet, I think we’re meant to laugh — he’s the exact mix of smart and silly the film is chasing.
So who, then, are the savages? The infected or us? The film shifts alliances without taking sides (yet). I’m unconvinced that sweetie pie Spike is the protagonist I want to follow for two more movies. But whatever happens, it’s a given that humans will eventually, stubbornly, relentlessly find a way to tear other humans to pieces, as we do in every movie, and just as we’ve done since the first homo sapien went after his rival with a stick. That’s the zombie genre’s visceral power: It reveals that the things that make us feel safe — love, loyalty, civility — are also our weaknesses. “28 Years Later” dares us to devolve.
’28 Years Later’
Rated: R, for strong bloody violence, grisly images, graphic nudity, language and brief sexuality
