walking

In the muffled silence all I can hear is the crunch and squeak of snow underfoot. The white path ahead of me meanders skyward through forests of larch and pine, their boughs glittering with snow. When I look back, I can see for miles – an icily beautiful panorama of crags and peaks.

I’m in the Lower Engadine, in remote south-east Switzerland, thanks to a tip shared by my Swiss friend Kaspar, when I was pondering a winter walking holiday away from the crowds. Over two weeks I’ll be exploring this fairytale landscape alone, following well-marked trails.

This castle in Wales has been compared to the Leaning Tower of Pisa and is said to be ‘like stepping into a giant storybook filled with knights and kings’

Brimming with history and overflowing with character, this Welsh castle has captured the hearts of visitors who’ve compared its splendour to some of the globe’s most iconic landmarks.

Caerphilly Castle is a medieval fortress dating back to the 13th century and, after a two-year restoration, has reopened its doors to the public. Visitors can now wander through the Great Hall and inner castle ward whilst exploring cutting-edge digital exhibitions inside. It was originally built by Gilbert de Clare as part of his strategy to maintain control of Glamorgan – then Wales’s most populous and industrialised county.

With the Prince of Wales’s influence rapidly expanding, he needed to establish his authority swiftly. To achieve this, construction began in 1268 on what became the nation’s largest castle and second only to Windsor Castle across the entire UK.

Spanning more than 30 acres with massive walls and gatehouses, alongside extensive water defences, it’s fair to say his ambitions were realised. One visitor shared their impressions on TripAdvisor, saying: “A sprawling site that is quite impressive.

“The large site minimises crowding, so you should be able to enjoy the site at your leisure – we certainly did. Limited amount of interiors remaining but still well worth the visit.”

To grasp just how enormous this fortress truly is, it’s three times larger than the Principality Stadium, Wales’ rugby headquarters. Many have likened it to Italy’s iconic Leaning Tower of Pisa, thanks to its own tilting tower which makes it all the more distinctive.

One visitor said: “Caerphilly Castle is like stepping into a giant storybook filled with knights and kings. From the moment you lay eyes on its towering walls, impressive moat and imposing towers, you are transported back in time.”

Another highlighted the tower as their standout feature, saying: “This is one of the most beautiful castles in the UK. It is very pretty, especially the leaning tower.”

Located in South Wales, Caerphilly Castle sits just 30 minutes by car from Cardiff city centre. It’s also conveniently positioned less than an hour from Swansea and within 90 minutes of Gloucester.

Entry to the castle is reasonably priced, with adult tickets at £11.90 and family passes at £38.10, whilst disabled visitors and children under five can enter free of charge. Commenting on the admission cost, one guest remarked: “I have paid more for far less at other mansion houses, etc, and this was so worth the entrance fee.”

The Pride of Cumbria train carried me out of Piccadilly station and, eventually, beyond built-up Manchester. After Marple, everything turned green as the valleys narrowed. It was a classic northern autumn day: the clouds were low, the mizzle and mist were closing in and the world was grey-filtered but for the glow of dead leaves all around.

South-east of Manchester is a bit of an unknown for me. Between the city and the Derbyshire borough of High Peak, you don’t quite enter national park territory, but it’s nonetheless a charming and eye-calming landscape. The Mancunian Kinder Scout trespassers of 1932 probably came this way, as do Pennine Way-farers bound for Edale. But the region is also post-industrial and close to conurbations. The Steel Cotton Rail Trail, which officially launched earlier this month after several years of planning, hopes to bring together elements of the land and the heritage while also drawing walkers and cyclists to areas of the Peak District perhaps ignored by those who rush for the main spine of the Pennines.

The 62-mile (100km) trail has been split into 14 day-friendly sections between the rail termini at Manchester and Sheffield, with stops along the Hope Valley Line marking the start and end points. There’s something for everyone. Urban explorers will enjoy the metropolitan mooches at either end, summit fiends will love the middle hill and moor sections, while those with young families or old dogs can opt for canal and riverside walks.

I was the only passenger to alight at Chinley, a small, smartish-looking village in the Blackbrook valley. I soon found a sticker to show that I was on the right track; way marking is now complete along the route. I also had printouts of the handy pdf maps posted on the website. GPX files are available, but I didn’t want to spend the day looking phone-ward.

The route, sloping downward, took me past a cafe and on to the Peak Forest Tramway Trail. As anyone who has been out on a recent country walk will know, 2025 has been a mast year, with an abundance of fruit and nuts falling from trees. I could hear the loud crunch of dry acorns and beech nuts as I began my walk towards the west.

The tramway – serviced by horse and gravity-powered vehicles – opened in 1796 and carried on operating right up till the 1920s. Limestone, quarried all around the area, was taken out along these tracks. While much of the primary and heavy industrial plant has gone, I passed a polymer factory close to Chinley and I was rarely far from traffic (the mighty A6, England’s longest road once upon a time, was just beyond the curtain of trees) or light industrial units. Some people probably prefer the illusion of “real nature” but I like ambling through parts of the countryside where work and wilderness rub along. Anyway, I was always able to look down and let the golds, reds and ochres of leaf litter blur my ruminations.

Soon I came to Bugsworth Basin on the Peak Forest canal – once the largest and busiest inland port on the canal system and the only one to survive intact. An information sign alluded to “canal mania”, the period between 1790 and the 1810s when dozens of cuts were made across England and Wales by speculators banking on “faster” logistics. In 1808, workers shifted sufficient limestone to fill 2,000 canal boats. A vital raw material, it was used in buildings, chemical manufacturing and agriculture. Limestone historians will probably challenge the steel and cotton of the trail’s name – cities edging out town and country, as ever – but you could also make a case for calling it the Millstone Grit Trail or the Coal Trail; this part of the world produced so much for Victorian Britain.

I swerved right, joining the River Goyt. Despite its guttural name, the Goyt is a lovely river. It threads a pastoral squiggle from soggy moorland just west of Macclesfield all the way to Stockport, where it runs into the Mersey. As well as the new trail, I was also walking on sections of the Goyt Way and a long-distance path called the Midshires Way. The path passed close to Furness Vale station on the Manchester-Buxton line – an alternative railway option to get to this section of the trail.

It was a mellow, easy walk all the way to New Mills, a town I only knew hitherto as the home town of punk/Oi! band Blitz, but which is a very dramatic constellation of magnificent bridges and stone viaducts, vertiginous gorges, fast-flowing water, the oldest community-owned hydro scheme in the land, some lovely llamas in a bosky paddock, and the sweeping steel Millennium Walkway. I’d passed a couple of rural pubs already, but New Mills has plenty of food and drink for those stopping or pausing here.

I continued along the canyon – past Torr Vale Mill, the UK’s longest-running textile mill till its closure in 2000 – and used the Goyt Way to enter Mousley Bottom nature reserve, a pretty patch of woodland occupying an area previously used as a landfill site, gasworks and sewage works.

I left the river behind at Hague Bar, and headed for Strines, to complete my two-stage, 6.5-mile walk, where I knew the train was hourly (it’s half-hourly from the larger stations). As fate would have it, just when I needed to speed up, the path went up too – quite sharply, in fact, as it ascended a green lane. After all the level walking, the views were suddenly much bigger, and the mist had burned off too. I was half-tempted by the Fox Inn, a Robinsons’ pub in the tiny hamlet of Brookbottom, but given my now terrible thirst, bursting lungs and the one-hour wait, I knew the rest stop could easily morph into a three-pint siesta-inducer. So, I struggled on and actually jogged down to Strines to make the train for Piccadilly with three minutes to spare.

This new rail-pegged walking (and, along many sections, cycling) trail will be welcome in Manchester, where it links up nicely with the also quite new 200-mile orbital GM Ringway. It may also tempt Sheffielders to look beyond the obvious Edale-Kinder Scout hikes – though Edale is a start/finish point for a nice 7.5-mile leg of the Steel Cotton Rail Trail. More frequent, reliable trains would make these walking trails really attractive. But for an autumn amble, the 14 new walks are almost perfect. Choose your challenge and altitude, decide whether you want trees or moors, towns or fields, and you will catch several of the moods of this magical season.

Read more about and download guides at the Steel Cotton Rail Trail

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

‘The people’s champion” is how Benjamin Zephaniah is fondly remembered in his home town of Handsworth, Birmingham. The words, spray-painted in fiery-red ballooned letters, leap out of a colourful mural that wraps around one side of a local Sons of Rest building, a place where retired war veterans once met and socialised. To the side looms an image of the late poet and writer, his face full of expression and thought. For a moment, it feels as if he’s there with you.

A couple of years earlier, and he may well have been. “Seriously, you could come into Handsworth Park and he’d just be walking through, just leisurely. Benjamin, he’d sit with you, he had time for you,” says Marcia Dunkley, one of the founders of the organisation Black Heritage Walks Network, which commissioned the mural.

It’s a chalky blue-skied August day in Birmingham, and while many of the city’s residents have flocked to the centre for the annual Caribbean music and food festival, I’m on a walking tour in Handsworth, the neighbourhood where much of the creative legacy of Birmingham’s Caribbean population was first felt.

The tour, launched in 2018 by the Black Heritage Walks Network, explores the history and legacy of the influx of Caribbean migrants who settled in Handsworth after the second world war.

The walk largely takes place along Handsworth’s Soho Road, a bustling high street north-west of the city centre where elaborate saris and glistening wedding jewellery spill out of shops and on to pavements. Fifty years ago, the high street, now dominated by south Asian traders, wore a different face.

“Black-owned, Black-owned, Black-owned,” says Dunkley, pointing at an array of mismatched buildings that were once the nightclubs, restaurants, law firms and banks that made up the Black economy in Birmingham, after thousands migrated to the neighbourhood from the Caribbean in the 1950s and 60s.

On any given day, they are buildings that might not warrant a second glance. Take Garvey House – a neglected and disused Victorian house, with a faded white painted front and boarded-up windows. Named after Jamaica’s national hero Marcus Garvey, the space once brimmed with life, offering temporary accommodation to waves of migrants arriving for the first time in the city. The only remnant of its past life is a faint sign above the door.

Black Heritage Walking Network was born out of the ambition of three history buffs, frustrated by Birmingham’s lack of recognition as a city steeped in Black history and heritage. Since creating the Madiba tour in Handsworth, named after Nelson Mandela’s famous visit to the area (Madiba was his Xhosa clan name) the company has developed a plethora of walks, exhibitions, and educational workshops that highlight the history and legacy of the African-Caribbean community in Birmingham.

“People who want to know about Bob Marley and Malcolm X and so on, if you don’t tell them, then they’ll just go to London to find it … People are used to the culture in London and having access to all of that at their fingertips, which means they don’t want to come to Birmingham,” says Dawn Carr, who co-founded the network.

Along Soho Road, unkempt and derelict buildings are contrasted with an array of colourful murals, commissioned over the years, to highlight the neighbourhood’s diverse and evolving identity. On Soho Bridge, a hand-painted mural shows Strikers in Saris to commemorate a group of south Asian women who famously protested poor working conditions at the Grunwick film processing factory in the late 1970s.

Close to the mural of Benjamin Zephaniah in Handsworth Park, is a brightly painted tribute of 13 Birmingham-born reggae artists that Dunkley brings to life by playing Steel Pulse’s Handsworth Revolution and UB40’s Food for Thought out of a portable speaker.

Where the rich cultural history of Handsworth escapes its outward appearance, Dunkley’s evocative storytelling brings it to life. Her passion for uncovering the lost history of Birmingham streets pours out in theatrical re-enactments and poised reflections on the ways we are taught the past.

While narrating the rich cultural and economic life of old Handsworth, Dunkley is careful not to gloss over the more painful realities of the racism and brutality that marked many residents’ lives.

Remembering that the Black and Irish communities ran 24-hour blues parties hosted in the interlinked cellars of houses along Soho Road known as shebeens, she’s quick to remind us that this was often the only nightlife available to residents, who risked returning “blue and beaten” if they ventured into the city centre.

In the same vein, we are frequently reminded of the strength and resilience of the community. “What you had were elders of the community … who would literally stand vigilante along here,” says Marcia at the edge of a road leading to the city centre.

“They stopped the youths from going down there. But they also stopped the neo-Nazis, the skinheads, coming up here, because that’s what was happening. Big clashes there. It was murderous. It was brutal.”

Some of the most painful accounts of the difficult reality for Handsworth residents are discussed outside the austere redbrick building with tall, narrow windows and stone lintels that was once the local police station. Then called Thornhill Road police station, Dunkley recalls a passage from Benjamin Zephaniah’s autobiography, where he describes a room with dreadlocks pinned to the wall, kept by police as trophies after alleged brutality.

Walking tours can at times feel like lectures, only with heavier legs and a burgeoning craving to sit down. On this tour, Marcia keeps us alert by making us work. At every twist and turn in the narrative, she interrogates the group for answers, sparking debate and conversation.

The tour ends at Handsworth leisure centre, the unexpected site of a visit from Nelson Mandela in October 1993. When news spread of his visit, residents of Handsworth flocked in droves to the sports hall– some even camping out the night before – to hear him speak. According to Dunkley, it was a visit city leaders fervently tried to block, fearing it might spark unrest in the part of Birmingham they referred to as the “ghetto”.

“But where’s the statue? Where’s the narration board?” says Dunkley, voicing her frustration at the lack of any physical commemoration to mark the event, a theme she reflects on throughout the tour. “Where’s the celebration?”

Black Heritage Walks Network offers guided tours all year round, weather permitting. Tickets can be bought through its website and start from £17 for adults and £5 for children under 12

A YOUNG woman was pushed to the ground and “sexually assaulted” while walking down a road as a man, 27, has been arrested.

Detectives have arrested a man following the incident that took place in the early hours of Sunday morning in Liverpool.

A woman in her 20s reported that a man on a bike had been following her while she was walking down Crosby Road South at around 5.45am.

The suspect then proceeded to cover her mouth with his hand and push her to the floor.

After the victim desperately screamed for help, the man fled the scene.

Merseyside Police have arrested a 27-year-old man from Litherland on suspicion of sexual assault.

He currently remains in custody for questioning. 

Detective Chief Inspector Nick Suffield said that the incident is deeply concerning and left the victim “extremely shaken.”

In a statement he said: “This is a deeply concerning incident and our investigation continues.

“The victim was understandably left extremely shaken and we will support her through this process.

“A man has been arrested, but I would still urge anyone who lives in the area to check your own, CCTV, dashcam and any doorbell devices should there be anything which helps this work.

“Any information could be vital, so let us make the assessment.”

Extensive witness and CCTV enquiries are continuing.

Anyone with information on the incident should contact the Merseyside Police social media desk @MerPolCC on X and Facebook quoting reference 25000780190

When you’re trekking in 40C heat, there’s nothing more welcome than a swimming hole. This particular oasis was a perfect circle of inky, deliciously cold-looking water. Only problem was, it was 10 metres below the trail. I took a deep breath and channelled my inner Tom Daley. One, two, three – go! I leapt into the void and plummeted like a stone – points deducted for the huge splash as I hit the water.

When I came up for air, I had the cenote, or sinkhole, to myself, barring the birds nesting in the craggy rocks that formed it. I floated on my back and watched as a black vulture tried to coax her fluffy chick to take its first flight. Who knew carrion-eaters were so cute?

Married at First Sight UK returned tonight and E4 viewers saw bride Sarah getting emotional before walking down the aisle as she spoke about the loss of her late mother

One of the brides on the new series of Married at First Sight UK was seen emotional just minutes into the launch episode whilst discussing her life. Sarah spoke about losing her late mother Julie ahead of walking down the aisle.

Sarah, 31, from Aberdeen, was introduced on the E4 show tonight in the first episode of the latest series. She brought up the loss at her joint hen do with some of her co-stars ahead of her match in the experiment being unveiled.

The recruitment consultant said that she would be walked down the aisle by her dad, who she described as her “rock”. Sarah then spoke about her mother Julie, saying: “I lost my mum was I was 22. She passed away. So she won’t be there.”

READ MORE: MAFs behind-the-scenes truths – Wedding planning details and how contestants are matchedREAD MORE: Married At First Sight UK hit with major scheduling shake-up for tenth series

In a confessional on the show, Sarah told viewers: “My mum was my hero but round the age of 12 I noticed that she had a problem with alcohol. I would come home from school and I would find her intoxicated on the couch so I had to take on a carer role, essentially, at a really young age.”

Sarah was seen looking through a photo album with her father as they reflected on the past. Moments later, she was seen in tears as she opened up about her mother’s death in a confessional that was shown amid the hen party scenes.

She shared with viewers in the scene that was broadcast earlier this evening: “By the time I was 22, she was admitted to hospital for the final time.” Visibly emotional, bride Sarah then added: “She passed away three days later.”

As she wiped tears from her eyes, Sarah said that she took “comfort” from her mother being “at peace”. She said: “We went back to see her and she was so at peace, which is the comfort that I take from it and I miss her all the time.”

At the party with her co-stars, Sarah said: “So [I’ve] sort of gone into most of my adult life obviously not having my mum.” She shared that she particularly finds it “quite hard” going into life events and “not having her there”.

Sarah, who moments later suggested that she didn’t want to get “upset” at the party, added: “One of those things like it’s never really like the same but you just get on with it.” She then told the group that mother will be “so proud” of her.

The bride said: “She’d be absolutely buzzing and I know she will be watching this being like ‘go on Saz’. Like ‘you’ve got this girl’ so she’s gonna be so proud of me.” The group then raised a glass to her late mother Julie in the scene.

If you are struggling with alcohol abuse or addiction, advice and support can be found at alcoholchange.org.uk.

The new series of MAFS UK continues tomorrow night on E4 from 9pm. The first episode is available on demand.

Like this story? For more of the latest showbiz news and gossip, follow Mirror Celebs on TikTok, Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, YouTube and Threads.

Under the warm autumn sun, looking out over the lake, I’m sipping tart, refreshing apple-secco. It’s a sparkling prosecco-like aperitif, but made from apples instead of grapes. I eat a few cinnamon apple chips, then move on to the hard stuff: brandy made from heritage apple varieties.

If you hadn’t guessed, apples are big business around here. I’m on a walking trip along the shores of Lake Constance, on Germany’s southern border. About 250,000 tonnes of apples are harvested in this region each year. Our trip has coincided with the annual gourmet event, when local producers set up stalls and sell their wares along 9 miles (15km) of the SeeGang hiking trail between Überlingen, Sipplingen and Bodman-Ludwigshafen (this year it takes place on 12 October). If apples aren’t your jam, there’s also pear-secco and spirits made from everything from plums, cherries and blackcurrants to jerusalem artichokes. Hikers can also sample food such as smoked sausages, cheeses, onion tarts, and homemade cakes and pies.

Lake Constance’s tourism tagline is: “Four countries – one lake”. Germany, Austria and Switzerland all meet at the lake, while Lichtenstein is just a half-hour drive away. On our short break, my boyfriend and I stick to the German section, but those with more time could easily visit three or four countries. There is a 160-mile cycling circuit around the lake, which can be divided into four to eight stages; and week-long foodie, active and highlights itineraries, all doable using public transport. The Bodensee ticket gives unlimited travel on trains, buses and ferries (from €48 for three days), while the Bodensee Card Plus also includes entry to 160 attractions (from €78 for three days; €124 for seven).

We started our trip in Konstanz (anglicised as Constance), the biggest city on the lake. We took a guided tour to learn about the city’s long history – most notably the Council of Constance of 1414-1418, a series of meetings to resolve years of schism within the Catholic church – and visit its landmarks: the council building itself; Imperia, a controversial 9-metre (30ft) rotating waterfront statue of a voluptuous woman, believed to be a courtesan, holding a king and a pope in her hands, created in 1993 by Peter Lenk; the münster (cathedral) and its 78-metre tower with views over the city, lake and mountains; and the charming Niederburg district, with its cobbled alleyways and houses from the late Middle Ages.

While the sun was shining, we ate outside by the water at Constanzer Wirtshaus, an inn in a former officers’ mess, built for Kaiser Wilhelm II in 1899. As well as hearty meat dishes such as knuckle of pork, shredded ox and beef roulade, I was delighted to find delicious vegan versions of regional dishes. Maultaschen, usually meat-filled dumplings, were made with plant-based mince and served with a potato and cucumber salad and vegetable gravy.

When it rained, we took refuge in Brauhaus Joh Albrecht, a brewery and restaurant in a medieval building. Alongside its core menu of sausages, schnitzels and Swabian (southwest German) specialities such as käsespätzle (pasta with cheese and roasted onions), it serves seasonal dishes. The pumpkin soup with giant pretzels was proving popular; this autumn there is a chanterelle mushroom menu, pleasingly called a pfifferlingskarte in German. We tried the malty Copper beer; later in the year, the dark, strong Xmas Bock will go on sale.

After all this indulgence, it was time to walk to our campsite, nearly 19km (12 miles) around the lake. Just outside the city, we reached the inviting Bodensee-Therme baths, with indoor and outdoor pools, saunas and steam rooms. We pressed on and passed Mainau, known as the flower island. In September, the dahlias are in full bloom and the katsura trees give off scents of gingerbread and caramel; the arboretum is at its leaf-peeping peak in October; and the illuminated Christmas garden opens on 18 November.

We left the lake and headed a little way into the countryside, walking through meadows and climbing a couple of hills, before strolling through the lakeside village of Dingelsdorf to the Campingplatz Klausenhorn just beyond. The nights were getting chilly, so we were glad to be staying in a cosy sleeping barrel rather than a tent. These wooden structures are supposedly based on the accommodation at the Council of Constance – but presumably a lot warmer and cleaner. The campsite has a cafe, sells fresh bread in the mornings and hosts a market on Fridays. Ufer 39, a restaurant a short walk away, serves local dishes plus pizza and pasta, in a modern space with a vaulted ceiling.

The next morning, we took a boat from Dingelsdorf harbour across the lake to Überlingen, a town with a medieval quarter and the longest promenade on the lake. This was the start of our gourmet walk – shorter (at about 7 miles) than the previous day’s route but more challenging – traversing ravines, forests and, of course, orchards. A particularly memorable stop was at the Torkelbühl viewpoint, where the Kress Winery was serving wine and snacks to accompany the incredible lake panorama.

Beyond Sipplingen, we were starting to tire when we heard the rousing sound of an oompah band. We headed towards the music and emerged at the Höhengasthaus Haldenhof, a picture-perfect mountain inn whose sun terrace has views all the way to the Alps. Fortified by more excellent German beer, it was a short hop to our journey’s end, the Seehotel Adler in Bodman-Ludwigshafen. With a heated outdoor pool and three saunas, it was certainly a good place to relax after a hike. The restaurant serves pike and char fish alongside pork cheeks and steaks, and more excellent vegetarian options such as panzerotti (mini calzones) stuffed with porcini and truffles, with thyme butter.

We’d packed a lot in, but there was so much left to see: the island old town of Lindau; the Middle Ages castle at Meersburg; the Zeppelin city of Friedrichshafen. And that’s without even leaving Germany. We’re going to need more apple-secco …

The trip was provided by the German National Tourist Office. This year’s gourmet hiking event is on 12 October. Campingplatz Klausenhorn has sleeping barrels from €70, sleeping two adults and two children; the campsite is open until 15 October and reopens in March. The Seehotel Adler has doubles from €160 B&B

USAIN BOLT has stunningly revealed he huffs and puffs when he climbs a flight of stairs.

The Jamaican sprinting legend, the fastest human in living history, won a litany of titles during his career – including eight Olympic gold medals and 11 world titles.

4

4

4

Bolt called time on his illustrious career in 2017 and has been dealing with the devastating effects of a torn Achilles tendon for the last year.

And the injury has taken its toll on his once amazing cardiovascular endurance.

He told The Guardian: “I mostly do gym workouts 1757974939.

“I’m not a fan, but I think now that I’ve been out for a while, I have to actually start running.

“Because when I walk upstairs, I get out of breath.

“I think when I start working on it fully again, I will probably have to do some laps just to get my breathing right.”

Bolt, 39, still holds three world records, including his world-famous 9.58-second running of the 100m.

He also holds the records for the fastest-ever 200m and 4x100m, having run them in 19.19 and 36.84 seconds respectively.

SUN VEGAS WELCOME OFFER: GET £50 BONUS WHEN YOU JOIN

4

Despite the advancements in training, nutrition and running technology, nobody has come close to breaking them.

When asked why this generation of sprinters aren’t as quick as his, he replied: “We’re just more talented. That’s all I’m saying.

“Of course, it shows when it comes to the men. You can see the women are different.

“They’re running faster times and faster times. So it shows – it has to be the talent.”

Bolt stopped watching athletics after his retirement but travelled to Tokyo this month to watch Melissa Jefferson-Wooden and Oblique Seville win gold.

The pace of Bolt’s once hectic life has changed in large part due to his three children, Olympia Lightening, five, and twin boys Leo and Saint, two.

But he wouldn’t trade dad life for anything, partly because it’s helped him find a passion for Lego.

When I walk upstairs, I get out of breath.”

Usain Bolt

He said of his post-athlete daily routine: “Well, normally, I wake up just in time to see the kids off to school.

“And then it depends on what I have to do. If I have nothing to do, I just chill out.

“I might work out sometimes if I’m in a good mood. I just watch some series and chill until the kids come home.

“I spend some time with them, hang out, until they start annoying me then I leave.

“And then afterwards, I just stay at home and watch movies or I’m into Lego now, so I do Lego.”

There are many ways to make an entrance, but lurching into a pub full of smartly dressed diners while windswept, muddy and more than a little frayed wouldn’t be my first choice. At 7.30pm on a sunny Sunday evening, the Welldiggers Arms – a country pub just outside Petworth in West Sussex – is full of people tucking into hearty roasts, the glass-walled restaurant overlooking glorious downland scenery, the sun all but disappeared behind the hills. For my husband, Mark, and I, it’s more than a stop for supper; the pub marks the halfway point on our two-day walking adventure along a brand new trail, the 25-mile Petworth Way.

Twenty-five miles may not sound like much (I have keen walker friends who would do it in a day) but, for us, it’s the perfect length, with plenty of pubs along the way. The first leg, from Haslemere to Petworth, covers countryside we’re both entirely unfamiliar with; the second, Petworth to Arundel runs through landscapes I’ve known since childhood. Happily, the start and finish points can be reached by rail – meaning we can leave the car at home and set off with nothing but small rucksacks, water bottles and detailed printed instructions.

Things start easily enough; a brief weave through Haslemere’s residential streets before the first serious ascent, through fields and shady, fern-rippled woodland that opens out on to Black Down, the highest point in the South Downs national park. After the dim light of the wood, the heathland blazes with colours; bursts of butter-yellow gorse, purple heather and bottle-green pine trees, all set beneath an intensely blue sky.

It reminds me of Ashdown Forest, which inspired Winnie-the-Pooh, and Mark and I bicker happily about who would be Christopher Robin and who Pooh, before arriving at the Temple of the Winds viewpoint, where we sink gratefully on to the seat and soak up the view. It is spectacular; green velvet hills and blueish-tinged valleys, church spires and the odd country estate dotted between the trees, all of Sussex laid out before us, half drenched in sunlight, half darkened by ominous clouds throwing down grey mists of rain on the horizon.

Keen not to miss lunch at the Noah’s Ark pub in Lurgashall, we set off again, at which point the bickering becomes slightly less good-humoured as we realise we’re going the wrong way. Ten minutes’ later, we’re properly lost, with an OS app on a phone that has unhelpfully lost all signal and directions that make no sense. Thankfully, a pair of local walkers point us in the right direction, and we make it down the hill, past vineyards and on to the pub, where we settle in with a couple of cold halves, some local salami and warm bread, eaten while watching a cricket match on the village green.

Fortunately, the next few miles are more straightforward, until a final ascent that leads into Petworth House’s great park; a glorious end to the day that makes us feel as if we’ve got this walking thing licked. That is, until we realise there are very few taxis in Petworth and we’ll have to walk the extra mile and a half to the Welldiggers, which, fortunately, proves to be a cocoon of loveliness; all soft clean linens, piping-hot showers, and staff who politely pretend not to notice our slightly catatonic state over dinner.

Next morning, fuelled by delicious shakshuka (poached eggs in a hot tomato sauce) and several buckets of tea, we hop in a taxi back to Petworth park to continue the walk across the Sussex Weald. The route drops in on a short section of the Serpent Trail – a 65-mile route from Haslemere to Petersfield that we pencil in for next year – before veering away past Burton Park, a grandiose, privately owned Greek revival mansion, all Doric columns and vanilla-hued walls. From here, the path heads downhill, which, we agree, is not a good thing, as it means going uphill is not far off.

Uphill is something of an understatement, and the pull up through the villages of Barlavington and Sutton was made even more challenging as the White Horse Inn, earmarked for a restorative half, turns out to be closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. Fuelled instead by lukewarm water and half a Twix each, we carry on towards Bignor, the gradient steepening with every step. By the time we’re walking east along the South Downs Way, the 360-degree views – across a patchwork of faded cornfields and khaki grassland – are quite some reward. Even so, it’s a welcome change to begin the descent into Houghton village, where I know (because I’ve checked) lunch awaits.

It’s this leg that really reaffirms the joy of walking for me. As the Arun valley unfolds beside the wooded hills of the Arundel estate, I think of how many decades I’ve driven the road that runs alongside and how different the countryside looks when taken at a slow pace, with the chance to stop and look, rather than snatched glances through the windscreen. Thirty years ago, I’d sit over lunch with my mum and dad in the George & Dragon’s garden, watching hikers amble down the very hillside we’re walking on. I’ve not been back to the pub for many years and it’s lovely – if slightly lump in throat – to return and have my parents suddenly conjured up so vividly.

It’s tempting to stay all afternoon, but after a classic ploughman’s (what else?), we lace up our boots for the final stretch, past Houghton’s thatched, flint-walled cottages and along the River Arun, before one final ascent into the Arundel estate. Clouds glower, but we’re lucky; the rain holds off as we skirt the edge of Swanbourne Lake and pass the Hiorne Tower, built by architect Francis Hiorne in 1797, as part of his (failed) bid to rebuild Arundel Castle. When we pop out on to London Road and amble towards the familiar outline of the castle, we’re almost too focused on finding large slabs of cake to properly celebrate the fact we’ve arrived at our destination.

Later, once the train has taken us back to our corner of the East Sussex countryside, I think about how little I know, really, of the landscapes I’ve visited since childhood. We’ll probably never be long-distance walkers, but weekend trails like this prove you don’t have to be; a couple of days is enough to see a familiar landscape in a whole new light.

Accommodation was provided by the Welldiggers Arms, which has double rooms from £115 B&B

Dubbed the ‘Camino of the East’, the 1,400 km long-distance walking trail, Via Transilvanica, is helping position Romania as Europe’s next great walking destination

One of the cheapest countries in Europe has been tipped as the next go-to destination for walkers.

Following Romania’s recent inclusion in the Schengen area, travel interest in the eastern European nation has spiked. There is plenty going for it. Romania enjoys warm weather in the summer; its countryside is verdant and vast; and it’s cheaper compared to its neighbours.

This week, one particular part of the country has featured on Intrepid Travel’s Not Hot List, which highlights ten parts of the world where few people currently visit.

Via Transilvanica is Romania’s entry this year. Dubbed the ‘Camino of the East’, the 1,400 km long-distance walking trail, Via Transilvanica, is helping position the country as Europe’s next great walking destination.

READ MORE: Glamorous 70s train returns to the rails linking two beautiful citiesREAD MORE: Underrated island that’s ‘real-life Mamma Mia’ has amazing beaches and no tourists

Initiated by Intrepid Foundation partner Tășuleasa Social Association, and known as ‘the road that unites’, its route is intentionally designed to connect travellers to lesser‑known communities and share the economic benefits of tourism more widely.

The trail takes travellers through villages, ancient forests, and 12 UNESCO World Heritage sites. With visitor numbers rising, now is the perfect time for the nation to consider its approach to sustainable tourism.

Romania welcomed 7.1 million overnight international visitors in 2024. The addition of 170 km of new paths opening in 2026 marks the first phase of a larger 20-year expansion plan to grow the Via Transilvanica trail beyond its original footprint, broadening its reach across Romania.

Smoother travel times, thanks to Romania’s 2025 Schengen debut that scrapped border checks with its European neighbours, and new flight routes from Birmingham to Sibiu have opened the door to a new era of travel for the region.

Anna Székely, vice-president of the Tășuleasa Social Association, said: “This slow-travel route isn’t just scenic, it’s built to revive depopulated villages, support local enterprise and give visitors a rare chance to experience traditions that feel untouched by time.

“For us, hospitality means creating genuine meeting points between hikers and locals – places where shared meals, old stories and the rhythm of rural life are as much a part of the journey as the miles walked.” Intrepid’s new 11-day Hiking in Romania via Transilvanica Trail trip gives travellers early access to some of the newly added sections of the trail.

“Hike to spiritual sites such as the UNESCO World Heritage-listed Sucevita and Moldovita monasteries and explore Bran Castle, linked to the Dracula legend. Enjoy the occasional homemade dinner and local wine with residents living in small villages along the trail and learn about each community’s culture.”

Intrepid’s 2026 Not Hot List features:

• Tiwai Island, Sierra Leone
• Tien Shan Mountain Range, Kyrgyzstan
• Sierra Norte, Mexico
• Vis Island, Croatia
• Gaziantep, Türkiye
• Arunachal Pradesh, India
• Via Transilvanica, Romania
• Ruta de las Flores, El Salvador
• Oulu, Finland
• Great Basin National Park, Nevada, US

The outdoor experts at Go Outdoors analysed TripAdvisor reviews and average rainfall to reveal the best places for an autumn walk, with the Forest of Dean coming out on top

A pretty forest with little rainfall is the best spot in the country for an autumn walk, according to Go Outdoors.

The outdoor experts analysed TripAdvisor reviews and average rainfall to reveal the best places for an autumn walk.

Taking the top spot as the best place for an autumn walk is the Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire, with a score of 9.3 out of 10. The forest boasts a TripAdvisor rating of 4.8 out of 5, and it’s clear that visitors are drawn to it during the autumn, with 84 reviews mentioning the word ‘autumn’.

This ancient forest has changed many times over the centuries. In medieval times, it was a royal hunting forest, before becoming a source of timber for the navy’s Tudor warships. By the Victorian era it was a major site of industry, with coal mining and tramways punctuating the landscape.

In 1938 the forest made history when it was designated the first National Forest Park. While it is primarily a tourist spot today, it remains a working forest, producing sustainable timber for the UK market.

The Forest of Dean is also a stronghold for nature, harbouring large areas of woodland and open spaces which provide a mosaic of habitats for a wide variety of wildlife.

Following in second place is Winkworth Arboretum, with a score of 8.51 out of 10. With over three quarters (78.2%) of reviews mentioning ‘autumn’, it is clear that the Surrey-based arboretum comes to life during this season.

Managed by the National Trust, it is home to over 1,000 tree species, with many changing colour in the autumn months. With relatively low rainfall, averaging just 62mm from September to November, visitors can generally expect drier conditions for their autumn strolls.

Rounding out the top three is Derbyshire’s Padley Gorge, with a score of 8.35 out of 10. Home to beautiful wooded landscapes, this gorge thrives in autumn, with nearly one in four (23.9%) reviews mentioning ‘autumn’.

The gorge also has various easy-to-moderate trails, including the Padley Gorge and Burbage Brook walk, making it an accessible destination for walkers of all levels to explore in this season.

Natalie Wolfenden, author and hiking enthusiast at Go Outdoors, said: “There is still so much to explore when summer comes to an end. The UK’s natural beauty comes to life in the autumn months, with the leaves shifting colour and the changing wildlife, I simply love it!

“To fully enjoy your autumn stroll, preparation is key. Layers are essential in the autumn months as they can be added or removed depending on the weather conditions on the day. What’s more, rain can come when least expected, so be sure to wear a good pair of walking shoes as well as packing a waterproof jacket and trousers. This will help you make the most of your walk, no matter what the weather throws at you.”

A late Tennessee sheriff who inspired “Walking Tall,” a Hollywood movie about a law enforcement officer who took on organized crime, killed his wife in 1967 and led people to believe she was murdered by his enemies, authorities said last week.

Authorities acknowledged that the finding will probably shock many who grew up as Buford Pusser fans after watching “Walking Tall,” which immortalized him as a tough but fair sheriff with zero tolerance for crime. The 1973 movie was remade in 2004, and many officers joined law enforcement because of his story, according to Mark Davidson, the district attorney for Tennessee’s 25th Judicial District.

There is enough evidence that if Pusser, a McNairy County sheriff who died in a car crash seven years after his wife’s death, were alive today, prosecutors would present an indictment to a grand jury for the killing of Pauline Mullins Pusser, Davidson said. Investigators also uncovered signs that she suffered from domestic violence, he said.

Prosecutors worked with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, which began reexamining decades-old files on Pauline’s death in 2022 as part of its regular review of cold cases, agency director David Rausch said. Agents found inconsistencies between Buford Pusser’s version of events and the physical evidence, received a tip about a potential murder weapon and exhumed Pauline’s body for an autopsy.

“This case is not about tearing down a legend. It is about giving dignity and closure to Pauline and her family and ensuring that the truth is not buried with time,” Davidson said in a news conference streamed online. “The truth matters. Justice matters. Even 58 years later. Pauline deserves both.”

Evidence does not back up sheriff’s story

The case dates to Aug. 12, 1967. Buford Pusser got a call in the early-morning hours about a disturbance. He reported that his wife volunteered to ride along with him as he responded. The sheriff said that shortly after they passed New Hope Methodist Church, a car pulled up and fired several times into the vehicle, killing Pauline and injuring him. He spent 18 days in the hospital and required several surgeries to recover. The case was built largely on his own statement and closed quickly, Rausch said.

During the reexamination of the case, Dr. Michael Revelle, an emergency medicine physical and medical examiner, studied postmortem photographs, crime scene photographs, notes made by the medical examiner at the time and Buford Pusser’s statements. He concluded that Pauline was more likely than not shot outside the car and then placed inside it.

He found that cranial trauma suffered by Pauline didn’t match crime scene photographs of the car’s interior. Blood spatter on the hood outside the car contradicted Buford Pusser’s statements. The gunshot wound on his cheek was in fact a close-contact wound and not one fired from long range, as she sheriff had described, and was probably self-inflicted, Revelle concluded.

Pauline’s autopsy revealed she had a broken nose that had healed before her death. Davidson said statements from people who were around at the time she died support the conclusion that she was a victim of domestic violence.

Brother says investigation gave him closure

Pauline’s younger brother, Griffon Mullins, said the investigation gave him closure. He said in a recorded video played at the news conference that their other sister died without knowing what happened to Pauline, and he is grateful he will die knowing.

“You would fall in love with her because she was a people person. And of course, my family would always go to Pauline if they had an issue or they needed some advice, and she was always there for them,” he said. “She was just a sweet person. I loved her with all my heart.”

Mullins said he knew there was some trouble in Pauline’s marriage, but she wasn’t one to talk about her problems. For that reason, Mullins said, he was “not totally shocked” to learn of the investigators’ findings.

Asked about the murder weapon and whether it matched autopsy findings, Rausch recommended reading the case file for specifics.

The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation plans to make the entire file, which exceeds 1,000 pages, available to the public by handing it over to the University of Tennessee at Martin once it finishes with redactions. The school will create an online, searchable database for the case. Until then, members of the public can make appointments to review it in person or can purchase a copy, said university Chancellor Yancy Freeman Sr.

McAvoy writes for the Associated Press.

THIS is the heartstopping moment when a child walks 100ft up along a holiday park monorail track.

The terrifying clip shows the kid strolling along the heights at Hersheypark after getting separated from his parents.

4

4

4

In jaw-dropping footage, the child can be seen teetering along the edge of the rail track.

Shocker onlookers gathered around as the horrifying events unfolded.

It happened at the park in Hershey, Pennsylvania on Saturday.

Visitors frantically waved at the kid as he walked along the lofty monorail tracks.

“Go to him now!”, someone can be heard shouting as a man jumps from a roof onto the tracks.

The kid had already been reported missing by his parents at around 5pm.

He had entered a secure area for the monorail ride, Hersheypark said according to ABC 7.

The kid was reportedly at the monorail station for some 20 minutes before walking onto the track.

One of the park guests eventually got onto the tracks and rescued the child.

Park officials reunited the kid with his parents at around 5.30pm.

A statement reads: “We are grateful for the vigilance of our guests and the swift response of our team, and we remain committed to maintaining the highest levels of guest safety throughout Hersheypark.”

It comes after a tourist died at Disneyland after passing out on its Frozen ride next to his wife.

The 53-year-old man from the Philippines lost consciousness on the beloved Frozen Ever After ride at the theme park in Hong Kong on Friday.

His wife noticed that he had fallen into a coma on the ride and immediately notified staff.

First-aid responders rushed to the scene as the ride returned to its starting point and performed CPR.

The holidaymaker was taken to North Lantau Hospital but sadly was pronounced dead shortly after at 11:30am local time.

A spokesperson for Disneyland Hong Kong said: “The resort deeply regrets the passing of the guest and will do its utmost to provide necessary assistance to his family.

“The initial investigation has shown the incident is not related to ride safety.”

4

A distinct farmyard smell lingers near the muddy Sheep Paintings. People walk slowly between two dense hedges of windfallen oak branches, or stand silently in a fragile cage of bulrush stems with light seeping through the mossy skylight overhead. I’m visiting the largest ever indoor exhibition of work by Andy Goldsworthy, one of Britain’s most influential nature artists. His recent installations have a visceral sense of rural landscape: hare’s blood on paper, sheep shit on canvas, rusty barbed wire, stained wool, cracked clay.

The show is a sensory celebration of earth – its textures and temperatures, colours, character. The seasons cycle through an ongoing multidecade series of photos featuring the same fallen elm. There are leaf patterns and delicate woven branches, crusts of snow, lines of summer foxglove flowers or autumn rosehips. Andy Goldsworthy: Fifty Years is a National Galleries of Scotland (NGS) exhibition in the neoclassical Royal Scottish Academy building.

After the exhibition, as a sort of cultural pilgrimage, I’m walking six miles across Edinburgh in search of works by the Dumfriesshire-based Goldsworthy and other artists who engage with the landscape. I start at the Royal Botanic Garden (free and open daily, rbge.org.uk), a short bus ride north of the National Gallery. Just inside the east gate, there’s a perforated sculpture by Barbara Hepworth with sunlight pouring through it.

“Art has made me look at the world … and engage with what’s around me,” Goldsworthy writes in the notes for Fifty Years. Walking up through shady beeches, blazing wildflowers and scented, bee-buzzing lavender, there’s a bronze girl in a waterlily pond, and a sundial by the Scottish artist and writer Ian Hamilton Finlay near the terrace cafe. Finlay’s best-known artwork is the garden he created with his wife, Sue, in the wild Pentland Hills (£15 over-16s, £10 for 10-15s, under-10s free, open Thursday to Sunday until 28 September, littlesparta.org.uk). He also built a stone temple in the rolling, wooded acres of Jupiter Artland, a few miles from Edinburgh, where Goldsworthy has put rocks in trees and trees in a stone-walled barn (£11.80 adults, £7.50 children). Celebrating both artists, Jupiter’s exhibition Work Begat Work runs until 28 September.

In the Royal Botanic Garden, Goldsworthy’s Slate Cone stands next to Inverleith House, where the gallery is showing feminist photomontages by Linder (free, until 19 October), who opened this year’s Edinburgh art festival (until 24 August). Enlarged images from her work (smiling mouths, bees, lilies) are dotted among ponds and flowerbeds.

Goldsworthy’s Slate, Hole, Wall, a round enclosure of stacked grey stones, stands in the gardens’ south-east corner, under a weeping silver lime tree sweet with honey-fragrant blossom. The Water of Leith Walkway runs close to the John Hope Gateway on Arboretum Place, and I follow it south-westwards. In Stockbridge, the Sunday market, shaded by whitebeam trees, offers loaves of artisanal bread, Perthshire strawberries and cakes made from insects. Almost hidden in branches under a bridge, a lifesize cast-iron figure stands in the river nearby, one of Antony Gormley’s 6 Times statues.

Another of the figures is buried chest-deep by the zebra crossing between National Galleries Scotland: Modern One and Two. Wandering past domed St Bernard’s Well, with its statue of the goddess of health, and picturesque Dean Village, crammed with fellow camera-wielding visitors, I detour to the Modern galleries up the riverside steps. Linking both museums is Charles Jencks’ huge Landform, with its grassy hills and curving pond. There are days’ worth of galleries, artists’ rooms and sculpture gardens to explore here, but the afternoon is passing and I have more miles and museums to cover.

Heading back along the leafy Water of Leith, I climb another steep flight of steps towards Haymarket. On the south lawn of St Mary’s Episcopal Cathedral, a labyrinth winds through aromatic yarrow and knapweed. Around this flowering meadow, as part of an installation called On Sacred Ground, there are rough benches elegiacally listing threatened Scottish species: corncrake, hawfinch, wryneck, ring ouzel, capercaillie. I walk on through Princes Street Gardens, back past the Royal Academy building, and drop into the National Gallery (free) next door to see Van Gogh’s impasto Olive Trees and William McTaggart’s stormy seascapes.

Up more steps, pausing to look back at distant views of the firth, and then down again across photogenic Victoria Street. Finally, I stroll through Greyfriars Kirkyard to reach the National Museum of Scotland (free, nms.ac.uk). In 1998, Goldsworthy installed four sunset-coloured blocks of split sandstone on the museum roof, with its panoramic city views. But the blue skies have turned stormy. “Our roof terrace is closed today – the weather is too dreich!” says a red sign by the lift.

Instead, I head to the basement, where more late-1990s works by Goldsworthy complement a brilliant gallery about Scotland’s early inhabitants. There’s Hearth, a burned circle on a platform of salvaged wood from the museum’s construction site. Stacked Whalebones is a pale ball of interlocking bones, the whole skeleton of a five-metre pilot whale found beached in Northumberland. Around golden bronze age torcs and silver Viking arm-rings, Roman carvings and flint arrowheads, the artist also designed Enclosure, two curving walls of reworked Edinburgh slates. Another backdrop is of stained Dumfriesshire clay like the Red Wall in the Fifty Years exhibition.

Outside, the Edinburgh fringe is in full swing (until 25 August). Among the crowds are buskers, jugglers, unicyclists. With just one night to sample its anarchic offerings, I plunge into dodgy cabarets and sweaty comedies in tiny underventilated venues. At 9pm, I’m back at the National Museum for an accomplished Lloyd-Webber-esque musical about Van Gogh. Towards midnight, I head to Summerhall for a strange, polyphonic prequel to Hamlet by the Polish choral-theatre group Song of the Goat.

The next day, as I walk to Edinburgh’s Waverley station, there’s a prismatic haze caught between the misty drizzle and breezy summer sun. It reminds me of Goldsworthy’s 1980s photo series with titles like Rainbow Splash Hit Water With Heavy Stick Bright, Sunny, Windy. As the train speeds south, through Northumberland and North Yorkshire, I see with new eyes the wave-pounded cliffs and bale-studded headlands, the dry-stone walls and sheep-scattered patchwork dales.

The trip was provided by Visit Scotland, NGS and LNER, York to Edinburgh from £23 each way, London to Edinburgh from £52 Andy Goldsworthy 50 Years runs until 2 November, £19 adults, £5 children, nationalgalleries.org).

A couple were left baffled by how some Spanish locals behave when it comes to taking their dogs for a walk and the cleaning up process – and they were very vocal about their displeasure

The last thing on your mind when taking the dog out for a walk is probably where your pet will urinate. It’s generally accepted that dogs just do their business, and there’s no need to clean up after them, regardless of where they choose to relieve themselves when it comes to a number one. However, one couple had a completely different experience when visiting Spain, receiving a culture shock as locals “yelled” at them for not being more considerate.

TikTok users Lance and Dua, who post under the handle @theldworld, revealed it was “only in Spain” they’d encountered this, not in America or Iceland, where they’re originally from.

Dua explained they were told they needed to “wash Rudi’s [their dog’s] pee with a water bottle”.

Lance then showed what they’d been instructed to do by a local, demonstrating the urine had to be entirely covered and washed away using bottled water.

Dua said they “have been yelled at by locals” multiple times for not cleaning up after their dog.

She recounted how one man even “made a scene” when there were many people around. She tried to explain to him that she didn’t “have water” to wash away the pee, asking him: “What am I supposed to do?”

Lance admitted he’d been “yelled at every time” by disgruntled locals. He was even caught out by a woman on a balcony who decided to give her two cents about what he was doing.

During the footage, Lance also raged that someone had their pooch off the lead without carrying a water bottle.

They were bewildered the regulation wasn’t enforced across the board, yet they’d faced criticism over it.

Lance claimed he was being “dead serious” when he insisted he was the “only one getting yelled at” for the conduct.

Nevertheless, it appears the duo escaped relatively unscathed, as certain regions in Spain demand dog owners don’t simply rinse away their pet’s wee with water, but use a disinfectant solution.

The Local Police in Seville were even granted powers to penalise pet owners who weren’t carrying disinfectant solution and fine those who fail to wash away their dog’s waste, according to Paws Patas.

This comes as Spain attempts to maintain the streets as spotless as possible, and clear of canine messes, including urine, as during sweltering weather, it can become intolerably pungent.

In the TikTok clip, someone moaned the pair appeared to be “complaining about cleaning up” after their hound.

Someone fumed: “It is the law now in many parts of Spain & you can be fined €€€ for not doing it. Locals are yelling at you because you are clearly foreigners. The fact that this has happened to you multiple times & you still forget the water bottle is disrespectful. As a fellow immigrant, please do better.”

Another person chimed in: “Starting spring 2026, Barcelona will enforce a new regulation requiring dog owners to clean their pet’s urine from streets using water or a disinfectant solution (like soap or vinegar). This is part of the upcoming reform of the city’s Civility Ordinance.

“Although the measure was approved by the city’s government commission in mid-2025, it is not yet in effect. Final approval is expected in November 2025, followed by official enforcement a few months later. Dog owners who fail to comply may face fines of up to €300.”

However, others rallied behind the couple, stating that “kindness is free,” and they shouldn’t have been “yelled” at when being informed about the rules.

A FOUR-year-old girl was tragically killed after a careless driver, 23, ploughed into the pavement.

Mayar Yahia was struck down on a Birmingham street while walking with her family after celebrating Eid.

5

5

5

Horror unfolded on April 14 last year when Javonnie Tavener sped through a barrier in his Corsa.

He ploughed into the little girl, her mother Sara, and their neighbour on Upper Highgate Street.

She was an extraordinary young girl, only four-years-old, full of life and joy, and her absence leaves an irreplaceable void in our lives

Mayar’s grieving father

Paramedics tragically pronounced the tot dead at the scene, while Sara and her friend were rushed to hospital with serious injuries.

Three other pedestrians were also hurt in the crash.

Cops later detained and charged 23-year-old Tavener with causing death by careless driving, causing death whilst driving uninsured and two counts of causing serious injury by careless driving.

He pleaded guilty to all charges at Birmingham Crown Court on Wednesday this week.

The defendant has been remanded in custody while awaiting a sentencing date.

In a statement, released via West Midlands Police at the time of her death, Mayar’s grieving father said words failed to capture his grief.

He said: “It is with profound sadness and a heavy heart that we share the devastating loss of our cherished daughter, Mayar.

“She was an extraordinary young girl, only four-years-old, full of life and joy, and her absence leaves an irreplaceable void in our lives.

“Among all, she held a special place in my heart.

“Words fail to capture the depth of our grief and the magnitude of this loss.

“However, we find solace and strength in the unwavering support and compassion shown by the police officers, our community, family, and friends.

“We extend our heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you who have stood by our side, offering your love, prayers, and support during this incredibly difficult time.”

Detective Sergeant Paul Hughes, from WMP’S serious collision investigation unit, said: “Mayar was just four years old when her life was tragically taken away from her.

“She was walking back with her family and friends after celebrating Eid.

“Pedestrians should be afforded and be reassured of protection when walking on the pavement and a split-second decision by Tavener to overtake where he did has led to this tragic chain of events.

“I would urge all drivers to think about this incident and how those decisions can have such catastrophic consequences.”

The road where Mayar was killed is now set to be pedestrianised after a campaign led for safer streets and roads.

It will stop traffic from reaching a stretch of Upper Highgate Street near New Hope Community Park.

5

5

All episodes are available for fans to binge

The new season of what some fans consider the ‘best Walking Dead spin-off’ is finally streaming.

Fans can finally binge all episodes of Dead City season two from today (July 10). Viewers just need access to Sky Max or an entertainment pass on NOW streaming platform.

Fans over in the UK have had to wait a considerable amount of more time than those in the US for its release. However, all eight episodes have been released at once.

Here is everything you need to know about The Walking Dead: Dead City season two, including plot, cast and reviews so far.

What is second season of The Walking Dead: Dead City all about?

The series follows two of the most popular characters from the main and original Walking Dead series in Maggie and Negan. Audiences are used to seeing them on opposite sides but the first season saw them traveling together into a post-apocalyptic Manhattan cut off from the mainland .

They were in search of Maggie’s kidnapped son, Hershel. The crumbling city is filled with the dead and denizens who have made New York City their own world full of chaos, danger, beauty, and terror.

Season two picks up a year after Maggie infiltrated New York to save her son. Her group, The Brocks have been forced to join the New Babylon Federation while Maggie has been trying to move on with her life with teen son Hershel and Ginny.

However, those now in charge want to conscript the residents for a mission to finally take over the city. Meanwhile, Negan attempts to bring together the gangs that control Manhattan, knowing an invasion is inevitable.

Who stars in The Walking Dead: Dead City season two?

• Lauren Cohan reprises her roles as Maggie Greene: formerly a part of Rick Grimes’ group on The Walking Dead. She is the leader of the Bricks, a community of survivors that relocated to New York from Virginia, where it was known as the Hilltop Colony.
• Jeffrey Dean Morgan also returns as Negan: The reformed former leader of the Saviors who left the Commonwealth with his pregnant wife to build a life together at the end of The Walking Dead.
• Gaius Charles as Perlie Armstrong: A marshal for the New Babylon Federation, a network of survivor communities in New York, who is tasked with hunting down Negan.
• Željko Ivanek as Mile Jurkovic / The Croat: from Croatia, hence his name, he is a sadistic former member of the Saviors who kidnapped Maggie’s son in season one. He is also the leader of the Burazi (Brothers), a group of hostile survivors who have taken control of Manhattan.
• Mahina Napoleon as Ginny: A young girl under Negan’s care who is selectively mute following the traumatic death of her father.
• Lisa Emery as The Dama: The Croat’s mysterious ally.
• Logan Kim takes over the part of Hershel Rhee, Maggie’s teenage son in season two.
• Orange is the New Black’s Dascha Polanco plays Lucia Narvaez: A high-ranking marshal for New Babylon who takes part in their mission to control Manhattan.
• Keir Gilchrist as Benjamin Pierce: New Babylon’s historian who documents the rebuilding of society and is fascinated by New York City.

Get Sky’s new TV and Netflix bundle

This article contains affiliate links, we will receive a commission on any sales we generate from it. Learn more

£15

Sky

Get Sky Stream here

TV lovers can now get Sky TV, Netflix and Discovery+ for £15 per month with the new Essential TV bundle.

This delivers live and on-demand TV without a satellite dish or aerial and includes hit shows like The Last of Us and Squid Game.

What have The Walking Dead: Dead City reviews been like for season two?

The second season’s final has now aired in the US and as a result, full series reviews have started to be shared online. The first season received some high praise from fans, with one even claiming: “It’s definitely the best of the three spin off shows. I had low expectations going into this as the Daryl spin off was a big disappointment. But I was pleasantly surprised by how good this was and really enjoyed it.”

Unfortunately, it seems the second season hasn’t wowed the critics as much. It only has a 63% rating on Rotten Tomatoes while season one managed 80%.

However, one reviewer claimed the leads make it worth a watch. They said: “Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Lauren Cohen make the writer’s job easy as they consistently deliver within Negan and Maggie, making Season 2 well worthy of a watch.”

Another added: “The Walking Dead: Dead City goes weirder in season 2, with more eccentric groups, all the while continuing its introspective look at Maggie and Negan.”

Have the stars of Dead City said anything?

While Lauren Cohan reprised her role as Maggie, a character she has played since 2011, the star also directed an episode of Dead City for its second season.

Speaking about the new role, she said: “Being able to direct on a creative level is so satisfying because you collaborate with everyone and you get to you get to go into their world. You go into the production designers’ world you go into the costume designers’ world.”

She continued: “I felt like the responsibility to the fans is baked in because we know it, we love it. We just don’t want to get in the way of the thing we love. And the responsibility to my co-stars, working with the actors is the best part of the whole thing because we speak the language.”

The Walking Dead: Dead City is streaming on Sky and NOW.

Where is the finest mountain panorama in the UK? As a nine-year-old I was taken up Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) and told it was the best. Even in those days, it was a struggle to see much except the backs of other people. The following summer Scafell Pike got the same treatment and the next year we climbed Ben Nevis. I disagreed on all counts. For me, Thorpe Cloud in Dovedale was unbeatable, despite it being under a thousand feet tall. What convinced me was the diminutive Derbyshire peak’s shape: a proper pointy summit with clear space all around, plus grassy slopes that you could roll down. The champion trio could not compare.

This panorama question is in my mind as I begin hiking up Slieve Donard, Northern Ireland’s highest peak (at 850 metres), but a mountain often forgotten by those listing their UK hiking achievements. And a proper peak it is too, with a great sweeping drop to the sea and loads of space all around, guaranteeing, I reckon, a view to beat its more famous rivals.

Slieve Donard’s relative obscurity outside of Northern Ireland is not difficult to understand. During the Troubles, visitor numbers plummeted and many locals gave up country walks. “We never went to the mountains,” one tells me, from Belfast, which is only an hour away to the north. “A road sign replaced with a sniper image is not very welcoming.”

Since that tragic period, the Mourne Mountains have made a terrific comeback, appearing in several episodes as parts of Westeros (along with other locations in Northern Ireland) in the Game of Thrones TV series.

I set off from the eastern side, at a spot called Bloody Bridge – named after a massacre in the 1641 rebellion – where there are crystal clear pools in the river before it tumbles into the sea. The path steadily racks up, passing through a quarry then reaching a saddle at over 500m, where a massive stone wall heads directly up the mountain. This is the Mourne Wall, a 22-mile miracle of human labour, crossing a total of 15 peaks in the range. It was constructed between 1904 and 1922 to keep sheep out of the central Mournes, where several important reservoirs supplying Belfast were located. Now it’s the site of an annual race and a handy landmark on misty days. It’s also a stiff climb. I deliberately avoid checking the view: it’s going to be magnificent.

The maximum distance you can see from any peak can be roughly calculated by multiplying the square root of the height in metres by 3.57. That, however, is not necessarily the final answer. Distant peaks beyond the horizon will poke their tops up and variability in light refraction around the Earth means the maximum distance can sometimes be extended significantly. The official record for a ground-to-ground distance view is 300 miles, between two Argentinian mountains in 2023. My own record was a glimpse of Monte Cinto in Corsica from the Alpes-Maritimes, around 155 miles away.

I pause on the climb, puffing a bit, and bang the numbers into my phone’s calculator. At 850m, Slieve Donard’s potential view distance is around 65 miles, which should mean that most elements of the British Isles are visible on a blue-sky day like this one.

I reach the summit and climb over the Mourne Wall to stand next to the bronze age cairn. I look east. Nothing. No Scafell Pike or Yr Wyddfa, not one bit of Scotland, or the Isle of Man either. Sea haze, the curse of the hiker who didn’t get up early, is the problem, particularly frustrating on an otherwise clear day. Having said that, it is a fabulous summit, perched high above the rest of the Mournes, with superb views south and west over the whole of County Down and on into the Republic of Ireland.

I come down via the Glen River, another sparkling stream that leads me right back into the town of Newcastle, where I go directly to the beach and dive in. The view might have failed, but where else can you start by the sea, climb the highest peak, and finish four or five hours later with a sea dip?

A quick change and I head for the Percy French Restaurant in the Slieve Donard Hotel. The front door, I’m told, has a Game of Thrones connection, but it’s really Percy French that intrigues me. An Irish songwriter and wit, French was one of those characters that light up their age. A contemporary of Oscar Wilde and WB Yeats, he regularly performed in Newcastle in the late 19th century and wrote the song The Mountains o’ Mourne, but never achieved much fame outside Ireland. There’s a bronze bust of the man on a side table, and I resolve to take one of his comic couplets as my motto in the quest for the finest panorama. “I’m not as bold as lions but I’m braver than a hen/And he that fights and runs away will live to fight again.”

Next day my goal is Slieve Binnian, at 747m the third highest peak in the range, and arguably the most beautiful. It’s another blue sky, so I am hopeful for fine views.

The track to the summit follows the Mourne Wall the entire distance (about two miles) and at the top I see why locals favour this peak: the summit and ridge are lined with stunning towers of granite, the Back Castles. I scramble up to the highest point. Sea haze. Loads of the stuff, a thick purple porridge all across the eastern horizon. Slieve Donard to the north-east is impressive and the panorama of the Mourne Mountains could not be bettered, but I’ve missed that 360 once again.

I head down the coast to the town of Rostrevor, a place whose dramatic setting inspired the writer CS Lewis to dream up the world of Narnia. “I have seen landscapes,” he wrote, “notably in the Mourne Mountains and southwards which under a particular light made me feel that at any moment a giant might raise his head over the next ridge.” In the Kilbroney Park, next to the town, there’s a good cafe, Synge and Byrne, and a Narnia trail. The town itself boasts a fine high street and some stalwart traditional pubs, one of which I choose for a post-panoramic failure pint.

I ask the barman if the undertaker’s business next door is part of the pub. “It used to make the wakes easy to organise,” he laughs. “But it’s closed down now. Mind you, we kept plenty of ghosts. There’s one who throws things, but is rarely seen.” Like England, Scotland and Wales, I reflect.

Next day is my last chance. The neighbour to my cottage advises on trying Knockchree, a hill of Thorpe Cloud dimensions at 306m. “It stands a bit separate and that makes for a lovely view.” Exactly what my nine-year-old self understood. But my calculator says capable of only a 37-mile range.

Cuckoos and stonechats are calling as I make the climb through pine plantation then up heathland. At the summit I sit down. A magnificent panorama of fields and Mourne Mountains is spread all before me in vivid colour and the sea horizon is perfectly clear. I think I can make out the summit of Snaefell on the Isle of Man, a full 60 miles away, which is a triumph, but England, Scotland and Wales have certainly ceased to exist. There are, however, two ancient kingdoms within my grasp: Westeros and Narnia, and they will do.

Accommodation was provided by Sykes Holiday Cottages, which has various properties in the Mournes area, including Carol Cottage, which sleeps up to eight, from £727 for three nights. Stena Line ferries sail to Belfast twice daily from Liverpool and six times daily from Cairnryan (near Stranraer). Return fare with car from £149