quiet

On the lamp-lit steps of a sombre gothic church, a young woman stands before a microphone. Beside her, a man plucks a slow melody from his guitar. Arrayed on chairs and cobblestones in front of them, a large crowd sits in an expectant silence. From a nearby balcony, laundry sways in the sultry Calabrian breeze.

The guitar quickens, and the woman issues a string of tremulous notes with all the solemnity of a muezzin. She clutches a hand drum, beating out a rhythm that draws the crowd to its feet. As people surge forward, stamping and whirling around the square, the singing intensifies and the drum’s relentless thud deepens. The festival of Sustarìa has begun.

“Sustarìa is a word in the dialect of Lago,” says Cristina Muto, who co-founded the festival in summer 2020. “It is a creative restlessness, which doesn’t let you sit still.” We’re speaking at a drinks party the evening before the annual event, on a terrace overlooking Lago’s clay-tiled roofs, when her brother Daniele appears with a jug of local wine in hand. “Welcome to Lagos Angeles, Calabrifornia,” he winks, pouring me a cup.

Lago is a hilltop village in the province of Cosenza, overlooking the Mediterranean. It’s surrounded by sprawling olive groves and small plots where families cultivate figs, chestnuts and local grains. Cristina and Daniele were born and raised in this grey-stoned hamlet, a medieval outpost of the Kingdom of the Lombards. Although their pride in Lago is palpable, few of the Laghitani I meet live here all year round. Like many young people from southern Italy, they have left in search of opportunities that are scarce in Calabria.

It’s against this backdrop that Cristina co-founded Sustarìa. “The trend is longstanding and severe,” she tells me, “but people still live here, and there are communities that thrive despite the problems. If more people stay or return, things will get better.” By spotlighting the allure of the region’s heritage, she hopes to play a part in this.

With agriculture historically shaping Calabria’s economy and its inhabitants’ daily lives, many traditions have agrarian roots. The dance that erupted on the festival’s first night was the tarantella. It features distinctive footwork, with dancers kicking their heels rapidly. “It’s a dance of the field workers,” Cristina says. “Some say it began as a way to sweat out venom from spider bites during harvests; others say tired workers in need of a creative outlet danced slowly and just with their feet, and over time the pace and range of movement increased.”

The vocals on display that night told of another aspect of the region’s history: its frequent colonisation. Calabria was variously conquered by Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Normans, Arabs, Lombards and Bourbons. The folk songs we heard were replete with Greek scales and Arabic cadences, a melting pot of Mediterranean timbres.

After the concert, the crowd migrated to a field by a small waterfall on the outskirts of Lago for dinner featuring regional dishes: rosamarina (the pescatarian version of nduja, known as “Calabrian caviar” made from tiny fish); fried courgette flowers; cipolla rossa di Tropea (red onions from the popular beachtown of Tropea); and pecorino crotonese, a sheep’s cheese from the Crotone province.

Over dinner I spoke with two other festival organisers, Claudia and her husband Alberto. Claudia, a Lago native, returned permanently, after a career in aerospace engineering, to run the B&B Agriturismo Cupiglione with Alberto. Nestled in woodland a few kilometres from Lago, Cupiglione was founded 25 years ago by Claudia’s parents as a restaurant with guest rooms. After closing during the pandemic, it was renovated and reopened in 2023 as a B&B with seven rooms for up to 18 guests (doubles from €40). The change in direction paid off, and Cupiglione has since welcomed hundreds of visitors to the area, evenly split between Italian and international travellers.

During my stay, I’m lodging in a house on the edge of Lago, thanks to the Sustarìa team. Hospitality runs deep during the festival; organisers open up their homes and those of their relatives to anyone who enquires through social media. Other options abound during the festival and year-round, including B&Bs such as Cupiglione and A Casa di Ely (doubles from €60), a short walk from where I stayed.

The following afternoon, I return to the field before aperitivi, where I meet up with Cristina, who explains the growth of her initiative: “Initially, it was just locals who came to Sustarìa, but then people from other parts of Italy and even other countries started coming. Every year it grows.” This year, there are nearly 600 people in attendance.

Eric, a Londoner studying in Zurich, is one such international guest. Eric also attended Felici & Conflenti, a festival in late July hosted by friends of the Sustarìa team, which focuses on preserving and reviving the region’s ancient music. It has held 11 editions over as many years, each one featuring a winter and summer instalment, to which more people flock each year. It takes place in Conflenti, a small inland village nestled at the foot of the Reventino mountain, at the confluence of two small rivers (hence its name).

“Thanks to their work and research, instruments that were becoming extinct, like the zampogna [Italian bagpipe], are finding new life,” Cristina says.

The three of us sit chatting over plates of crisp taralli (wheat crackers) as twilight fades, and a reedy piping starts up from across the field. I stroll over, and catch sight of someone playing the zampogna, which looks like a set of bagpipes improvised from foraged materials, and is truly ancient – it counts the Roman emperor Nero among its historical admirers.

The next morning, we head to the hilltop town of Fiumefreddo Bruzio, a short drive from Lago and officially recognised as one of “Italy’s most beautiful villages”. Clinging to the western slopes of the Apennines, this medieval village offers panoramic views of the swelling coastline, which traces the Tyrrhenian Sea. Its narrow, meandering streets are lined with squat houses made of the local grey stone, quarried from the surrounding mountains. We wander around Il castello della Valle, a sprawling 13th-century Norman castle partly destroyed by Napoleonic troops, but retaining a splendid portale Rinascimentale – or Renaissance gate – still in excellent condition.

At Palazzo Rossi, on the edge of town, we take a seat at a cafe and sip local craft beer as we admire the view of the active volcano Mount Stromboli, across the water.

“You should see it in the winter,” Cristina says. “The air is cooler, so it becomes even clearer. Everything here is completely different in the winter, but most people don’t see it as visitors come mainly in the summer,” she adds with a note of regret.

The sun starts to sink into the horizon. In the square, a band starts setting up for an evening gig. A waiter brings over a plate of bread and olives to our table, on the house. “Things are quieter but not empty. There are almost as many events as in summer. And you get to see how the locals live during the rest of the year.” Cristina tears off a piece of bread. “And, of course, the hospitality never changes – people are always welcomed with open arms.”

Sustarìa will return to Lago for its sixth instalment on 1-3 August 2026. There is a winter edition of Felici & Conflenti in Calabria on 27-29 December 2025; its next summer instalment is in July 2026

WHEN Corfe Castle was besieged during the English Civil War, little else surrounded it bar rolling countryside and a narrow river below.

Today the rocky ruins of the 11th century fortress, perched high on a hill, watch over a jumble of wonky brick buildings housing antique stores crammed with dainty ornaments and cafes selling cakes piled high with whipped cream.

With such a chocolate-box look to it, I’m not surprised that this teeny Dorset gem, just a 25-minute drive south of Poole, is so frequently-named the prettiest village in the UK.

Autumn is a spectacular time to visit Corfe Castle village. In the coming months, the ivy that clings to the thatched cottages will have turned a fiery shade of red and the beginnings of the wintry chill can be soothed with a pint in front of a roaring log burner at the local pub.

Aptly named after the old fortress itself, this village is one of the many highlights of a post-summer visit to this area.

I return to this neck of the woods every autumn, in part because of the unspoilt beaches, which look just as beautiful in blustery season as they do in pure sunshine, and also for the cliff-top hiking trails that give way to jaw-dropping views over the rolling ocean.

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Secluded English cottage where your garden is the BEACH that ‘doesn’t look real’

From the top of the South West Coast Path with nothing but ocean on the horizon, it can feel like you’re standing at the very edge of earth.

This time I am staying at a Dorset Hideaways property, the rather grand Grove Lodge in Osmington, close to Ringstead Bay.

Sleeping up to 11, this holiday home is completely geared up for large groups and families, with five contemporary country-style bedrooms.

As well as a spacious sitting room with a cosy fireplace, there’s a smart country kitchen, dining room, snug and a small annex, which comes with its own double bed and a mini kitchenette.

The standout feature of the property, however, has to be its cracking location, less than a 20-minute drive from family-friendly Weymouth beach and half an hour from Corfe Castle.

In summertime, Weymouth comes alive with holidaymakers chomping on candy floss, pushing pennies through the arcade’s slot machines and settling on the sands for a Punch and Judy puppet show.

But some may say it’s even better in autumn when beaches are empty and dogs almost outnumber humans, splashing about in the frothing waves (pooches are banned from the main section of the beach in summer months).

Staggering views

Those visiting without kids, on the other hand, should head to Lulworth Cove, just a 20-minute drive in the opposite direction from Grove Lodge, where the deep blue sea is framed by a horseshoe of pebbles.

The walk from here to the famous Durdle Door — named after a natural limestone arch protruding from the ocean — is a popular one, mainly because of the staggering views.

Just come prepared for a steep climb, and make sure you’re well-fuelled for it. In my opinion, there’s no better way to do that than with a top-notch Sunday roast.

One of the best portions of fish and chips you’ll ever eat will set you back £20, while a fresh crab brioche roll served with chips costs £16

Head to the nearby Weld Arms, where plates of pillowy Yorkshire puddings accompany slices of rare roast beef doused in meaty gravy. Or for a lighter bite, the Boat Shed Cafe, right on Lulworth Cove, dishes up fish finger sandwiches, jacket spuds and home-made soups, all for around a tenner.

If you’re after something really special, nothing beats The Anchor Inn in Seatown, which sits at the edge of a relatively isolated pebble beach, further west of Lulworth.

Fresh and local is the order of the day here and the fish-focused menu is one that keeps foodies coming back. I devoured a big bowl of bouillabaisse (French fish stew) which was packed with prawns the size of my fists and flaky salmon, served with a hunk of sourdough.

One of the best portions of fish and chips you’ll ever eat will set you back £20, while a fresh crab brioche roll served with chips costs £16.

And for dessert? Tea and cake is best consumed in Corfe Castle. The cafe serves generous wedges of raspberry cake and caramel shortbread coated in a thick layer of chocolate.

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This is the place to pick up holiday souvenirs, too. Trinkets are aplenty in the little shops that line the main street, from home-made soaps to coffee table books, detailing the best UK surfing spots, many of which are in the surrounding areas.

Well . . .  when in Rome.

FOR quiet medinas, pretty beaches and winter highs of 20C, this African capital is set to be a popular spot next year.

National Geographic named the destination one of its best place to visit in 2026 – and luckily for Brits, it’s just three hours away from the UK.

The publication added the capital of Morocco to its must-visit spots for next year, calling it the country’s “relaxed Atlantic-coast capital”.

The city is much lesser-known than the likes of Marrakech, Tangier, Agadir and Essaouira.

But it still has all the charm of the other spots, just much quieter, so you can stroll around the traditional medina souks without it being so busy.

When it comes to the top things to do, one is visiting Kasbah des Oudaias – a fortress looking over the Atlantic Ocean and Bouregreg River.

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When you visit, you’ll find winding blue-and-white painted streets, the historic Kasbah Mosque, and the Oudaias Museum, which is inside a former royal pavilion.

There’s also the Hassan Tower, which dates back to the 12th century and is a symbol of the city.

It’s not all history, there’s modern architecture too, like the Mohammed VI Tower, which is a 250-meter-tall skyscraper in Salé, Morocco, near Rabat, and opened in 2023.

It is the tallest building in Morocco and the third tallest in Africa.

As for affordability, you’ll be happy in Rabat, overnight stays can start from as little as £17 per person.

Food and drink is affordable too, with an inexpensive meal costing £3.26 and dinners at a mid-range restaurant starting from around £16 per person.

Draft beers cost roughly £3.25, with soft drinks like orange juice coming in at 80p.

One writer visited Rabat who said: “Walking through the monumental kasbah gate, called Bab Oudaia, is like stepping back in time.

“Rather than maze-like alleyways, there is a tranquil labyrinth of wide lanes, with white houses and blue, grated windows that are lit up by pretty vines of purple and pink flowers.”

She added: “Pick up a strong black coffee — Turkish style, I’m told — and an almond pastry at the cooling Udayas botanical gardens is the perfect fuel before a venture into the National Finery Museum.

“Extravagant bejewelled crowns, breast chains, rings and belts once worn by young women, perhaps on their wedding day, sit on faceless models.”

In fact if you want to visit Rabat this month, you can get flights for as little as £17 with Ryanair who fly directly.

From the UK, you can be in the city in three hours and 20 minutes.

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Head of Sun Travel Lisa Minot visited another destination in Morocco…

Lisa Minot, Head of Sun Travel, filled us in on her recent trip to Marrakesh. She said: “I’ve just returned from a wonderful long weekend in Marrakech and the city is as exciting as ever.

“We were sunbathing on the roof of our riad in the Medina in glorious 22 degree temperatures – and I loved the amazing desert landscapes just 40 minutes from the hustle and bustle of the souks.

“Tourism is booming in the city and while the streets are as colourful and chaotic as ever, the influx of visitors has brought some gorgeous new bars, restaurants and stunning hotels.”

She added: “It pays to do your research and book restaurants and tours in advance though as even in February and the start of Ramadan, the souks were teeming and lots of places were fully booked.

“We did a three-hour food tour of the Medina with Get Your Guide and while stuffing ourselves on some fantastic street food I probably would never have had the courage to try on my own, our guide revealed the secrets of the city and its fascinating past.”

For more holidays, check out these five lesser-visited coastal resorts that are crowd-free alternatives for 2026… with VERY cheap hotels and flights.

Plus, the peaceful African city right by the sea that feels ‘more like Europe’ – but tourists always miss it.

The pretty harbour town stuns throughout the year, but autumn could be the perfect season for a relaxed visit

Coastal lovers know the perfect spot for anyone seeking a quiet escape with peaceful walks and splendid views. For anyone who finds themselves near Cornwall, Fowey could offer an ideal autumn day out or staycation.

The pretty harbour town attracts visitors year-round, but there’s lots to charm autumn visitors, who might like to take in the atmospheric cobbled streets and less-crowded coastal walks with a hot chocolate in hand. Ruby’s Ice Cream, which offers ice cream shops in Cornwall, praised Fowey as an autumn destination in a recent social media video.

Taking to TikTok, @rubysicecreamshop shared a post titled: “7 reasons you should visit Fowey this Autumn.” The list read:

1. The artisanal shops and cafes2. The dining3. The ferry across to Polruan4. The hot chocolates5. The quiet coastal walks6. The bakeries7. The ice cream

Visit Cornwall describes Fowey as “perfect for exploring.” The tourism board’s website says: “Perched on the banks of a deep river, Fowey is a picturesque town overflowing with history.

“Dating back to medieval times, its narrow cobbled streets are now lined with Victorian and Edwardian buildings which cascade towards the water’s edge.

“Fowey’s natural deep-water harbour and sheltered waters established it as an important trading hub throughout the centuries for tin, copper and China clay – the latter of which is still exported from the area today.

“The town sits within the South Coast – Eastern National Landscape and is bordered by farmland, rugged coastline and pretty beaches. The meandering creeks of the river wind through ancient oak woodlands, making the area perfect for exploring.”

On TripAdvisor, the Fowey Estuary has hundreds of excellent ratings. One reviewer wrote: “Whenever we visit this part of Cornwall, we always try to get to visit Fowey. There are plenty of pubs, cafes, and restaurants to choose from, and a good selection of shops, including some local independents.

“We always make time to walk out to Readymoney Cove, and sometimes also St Catherine’s Fort, enjoying the views of the estuary along the way. There are toilets and a small beach shop at Readymoney Cove.”

Another visitor said: “What a delightful place. We parked at the top of the town and walked down. This is quite steep for anyone who may have difficulty walking. The lovely streets with quaint shops enable you to just meander down to the estuary. But you just have to buy some delicious Cornish pasties too.”

Someone else praised: “What a beautiful place, loads to do around the town with some of the best restaurants, great shops and fantastic views. Will be back again.” Another fan wrote: “Great place to unwind, and chill on the river. Fowey Town has a thriving mix of restaurants pubs and variety on entertainment to easily keep you there for a week.”

Diving star Tom has been married to Dustin Lance Black since 2017 and the pair have two sons

Tom Daley is often in the spotlight, thanks to his diving career and now TV fame on Celebrity Traitors.

But when he’s not in the public eye, he lives a quiet family life with his husband Dustin Lance Black and their two children.

The star, 31, has been married since 2017 and became a dad for the first time the following year, and has been open about what family life means to him.

“I used to define myself by diving,” the Mirror quoted Tom as saying in 2021. “If I dived well it reflected on me as a person. Now I’m first and foremost a father and husband.” So who is Tom’s husband?

Is Tom Daley married?

Tom first came out to his fans in a YouTube video in December 2013, in which he shared that his “whole world changed” when he fell in love with a man.

He started dating Dustin, who is a screenwriter, director and producer known for movies such as Milk and J Edgar.

Tom told The Guardian earlier this year that the pair met at a dinner in 2013 and that they “talked and talked until we both realised how similar our lives were”.

“He had just lost his brother; I’d lost my dad,” he said of Dustin, who is almost 20 years older than him. “He had just won his Oscar; I had just won an Olympic medal. It was the first time I could complain about success to somebody who knew I wasn’t really complaining about success.”

The couple revealed their engagement in October 2015 with a traditional wedding announcement in The Times.

They tied the knot in 2017 in Dartmoor National Park, with Tom telling fans on Instagram at the time: “On 6th May 2017, I married the love of my life, @dlanceblack.”

Does Tom Daley have any children?

In 2018, the couple welcomed their son via a surrogate and named him Robert ‘Robbie’ Ray, a tribute to Tom’s dad Robert, who died in 2011.

Second son Phoenix was born in 2023, also via a surrogate.

The following year, Tom announced he was retiring from diving, revealing his decision after the 2024 Summer Olympics.

Tearing up in a moving interview with the BBC, he said: “It’s hard to talk about, it’s emotional… I want to be with my family.”

Celebrity Traitors airs on BBC One

At the end of Downderry’s shingle and sand, there’s a tumble of rocks and then a long beach stretching eastwards into the distance at the foot of the cliffs. Sitting on the rocks is a man with five raffish dogs that immediately start prowling around me and my partner, Sophie. A wet nose touches my bare calf.

Every long-distance trek has these decisive moments. The South West Coast Path has plenty. Should we stay on the beach, or take to the cliff? What’s the tide doing? And, more immediately, are these dogs going to bite my bum? It has happened to me once before.

“Nice dogs.”

The man shrugs. “They’re all right.”

That’s that sorted then.

“Is there a way up the cliff, off that beach?”

“See the rock?” He points into the far distance where a headland juts out. “Just before that, look for the blue rope. It’s a scramble.” He looks at us, like the director of Poldark assessing extras for a gruelling fight scene with Aidan Turner. “You should manage. Tide’s going out.” He gives a sly grin. “Lovely day for it.”

We thank him and set off. Every journey has its turning points, I reflect, especially when you push off from the safe haven of the guidebook and OS map into the uncharted waters of local knowledge. Boots crunching into shingle, I wonder why he grinned like that. Have we been duped?

I first came to the South West Coast Path as a teenager in 1978 when I heard on the radio that the entire 630-mile route was open. The statistics were what captured my imagination: climb four times the height of Everest, embark on 13 ferries, scale 436 stiles and pass 4,000 signs. That averaged out at one sign every 250 metres, on a path where the sea is always on one side. It was, I told my sceptical parents, impossible to get lost.

With a schoolmate, I hitchhiked to Plymouth where we immediately got lost and spent a miserable night in a concrete underpass. Next day, having hitched to Penzance, we began walking west and made it to Land’s End. It was less than heroic, but over subsequent years I’ve done a lot more of the path, perhaps even most of it. I did not, however, go back to Plymouth. Bad memories. Now I discover that the path west of the city is considered the “forgotten” section, the bit least visited. That intrigues me.

A glance at the map shows how modern road and rail links into Cornwall from Plymouth bypass a sizeable peninsula of land, the Rame, formed by the English Channel, Plymouth Sound, and the rivers Lynher and Tamar. Before those car and train routes were built, travellers bound for Cornwall would usually cross the Rame. They would go down to the city docks and get themselves rowed across the Hamoaze, as this stretch of the Tamar is known, no doubt weaving through a chaotic throng of smacks, sloops, gigs and galleons. In 1811, one such traveller was the artist JMW Turner, who had himself ferried across, then set off walking around the coast, carrying six blank sketchbooks, lots of pencils and a fishing rod. He had been commissioned to contribute to one of the first tourist guides, Picturesque Views on the Southern Coast of England. We are walking the same route, but in the opposite direction.

Back on the beach at Downderry, having checked the tide times on my phone, we decide to trust in the blue rope. At a point where the cliff leaves only a few feet of shingle to pass, we discover why the helpful dog-owner had grinned. There is a naked man standing in the shallows.

British naturism often seems to feature pot-bellied middle-aged men staring out to sea like goose-pimpled Gormley statues. Battern Cliffs, I discover later, is an informal naturist beach.

Further down the strand, past a couple more quasi-Gormleys, we find the blue rope and scramble up through a beautiful cool forest of holm oaks. The plant life on this walk is a never-ending joy: from the tiny details of delicate ferns and spleenworts to the huge columns of giant viper’s bugloss and this sepulchral forest. Buried within the shade, we find the ruins of a Victorian folly, St Germans Hut, and connect back to the coastal path, strolling in sunshine along the tops all the way to Portwrinkle.

When Turner came here, Cornwall was not the tourist honeypot of today. Just a few years before he arrived, the oracle of what was “picturesque”, the Rev William Gilpin, had denounced the county as being “without a single beauty to recommend it”. Other grandees were equally scathing: “brooding evil” and “hideous and wicked” were among the kinder comments. Turner, however, led the vanguard in reassessment, filling his notebooks with quick-fire sketches that deftly captured the spirit of the land.

After a night in a friendly B&B in Sheviock (the owners take us to their favourite pub, the defiantly quirky Rod and Line in Tideford), we rejoin the path at Whitsand golf course. Soon after that, we encounter the biggest irritation of the South West Coast Path, one Turner never had to contend with: the Ministry of Defence. Red flags are flying over Tregantle Down and we’re forced to use the road. I know the Russians are about to invade and we should get ready, but surely they will be repulsed when they see our coastal Gormleys?

Despite the MoD, the next section up to and around Rame Head is one of the best, skirting secret little sandy coves and finishing along Plymouth Sound into the pretty village of Cawsand. This place has a fine seafood restaurant, The Bay, and some good pubs. (There is also a foot passenger summer ferry to Plymouth if you want to skip ahead.)

We stay the night nearby, then walk through the shady 865-acre Mount Edgcumbe country park. The gardens are filled with camellia varieties, but I’ve just missed the flowers, sadly. Get there in May, I reckon.

Emerging on the Tamar River, we catch the Cremyll foot ferry across the Narrows to Plymouth. If I still have bitter memories of that night in the concrete underpass in 1978, they are soon dispelled. The revitalised Royal William Yard is now home to a brewery, cafes and art studios. The sun is shining and there are warships manoeuvring out in the Sound. We stroll around to the Hoe where, during the summer of 1815, huge crowds gathered to watch a pot-bellied middle-aged man stare out to sea from the deck of another warship, the 74-gun Battle of Trafalgar veteran, HMS Bellerophon. Her cargo was the captured Emperor Napoleon, held here before being shipped to Saint Helena. The crowds cheered, causing outrage in some quarters.

We wander down to the refurbished lido and spot a set of steps and terraces. The sea is full of people swimming out to a couple of floating platforms. I have swum every day of this walk and I do so again. Plymouth and this forgotten slice of Cornwall, I have to admit, has fully redeemed itself.

The trip was provided by Inntravel, which has a six-night walking tour of Cornwall’s south-east coast with breakfasts, luggage transfers and route maps from £1,035