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gnomebby-sideblog · 2 years

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saw a tiktok the other day about adding your own niche interests to fanfic and that spiraled into an idea for a ofmd modern day birdwatching au. i doubt i’ll ever get around to writing it but here is my general premise and character ideas!!

stede bonnet recently fell in love with birds and is trying to get into birdwatching as a hobby, so he signs up for a bird walk with ornithologist edward teach. here, he becomes even more infatuated with birds, and maybe becomes interested in someone else too, so it’s all too easy to sign up for another walk.

and of course, our beloved crew are also regulars of ed’s bird walks. birdwatching-related shenanigans ensue!

characters:

stede: middle-aged recent divorcee and father of two, looking for something new in his life, saw a cool bird once and fell down the birding rabbit hole after researching it, bought a bunch of nice equipment but doesn’t know how to use it, thinks birds are cool and pretty, knows pretty much nothing else, but he wants to learn!! favorite bird: northern cardinal

ed: ornithologist and big name in the birding world, chair of his local audubon society in his free time, can tell you everything about every native bird in the area, expert at calls and identifying, but is losing the magic that got him to love birds, getting bored, starts up bird walks for the community to try to bring the love back. favorite bird: american crow

izzy: co-leads walks with ed but no one likes him nearly as much, has worked with ed for years, currently doing research with ed, they get along well and work fine together but in the same way a bickering old couple does, really trying to push ed to keep with research even as ed is falling out of passion, feels threatened by stede and everyone knows it but him, does a lot of the organizational parts of the walks and does not get credit for it, gets visibly annoyed whenever stede talks and is very happy to correct stede when he identifies a species incorrectly. favorite bird: great horned owl

lucius: local college student studying environmental science, knows a lot and is chill about it but is silently judging you because you mixed up a song sparrow and house sparrow, dutifully records every species he sees and how many on ebird because Science, stede is friendly with him and lucius is only mildly happy about it but lets him stick around him anyway, always makes sure to point out to stede what he sees, when he isn’t using his binoculars or recording a sighting he is holding hands with pete. favorite bird: yellow-rumped warbler

black pete: goes to walks for ed because he’s a big fan, has read all of ed’s books and mentions it a lot, claims to have studied under ed when he was an undergrad and ed was a professor but can’t really prove it, always stays near the front of the group, gets excited about the birds very easily and is very passionate about birding and lucius is the only one who can calm him down, always shows up in full outdoors gear whether necessary or not, lowkey gets annoyed when people misidentify things but is working on it. favorite bird: belted kingfisher

jim: always shows up with oluwande, quiet, stays in the back and makes quick remarks making fun of people under their breath, only really talks to oluwande, will not tell you what they see until after the fact when it has already flown away, crazy good photographer and can always get a clear shot of the birds, carries around a fancy expensive camera with a huge lens that is their pride and joy, has 50k followers on their bird photography instagram, still wears the big wide-brimmed hat it’s just one of those outdoorsy ones with the string that goes around the chin. favorite bird: green heron

oluwande: always shows up with jim, reluctant mom of the group, scolds you for not wearing bug spray but pulls some out of his bag for you to use anyway, always has a field guide in hand for reference, makes sure everyone is with the group and no one is lost, great bird walk conversationalist, softie at heart but knows how to push jim’s buttons (even though they don’t mind), big on bird twitter for his jokes and for always being the first to report on rare bird sightings in the area, also posts jim’s photography #supportiveboyfriend, always wearing signature orange baseball cap, crocs are his birding shoe of choice no matter the location. favorite bird: mourning dove

frenchie: believes the ivory-billed woodpecker is still out there and will tell you about the time he saw one, has been in local birding circles for years, knows his shit but is nonchalant about it, jots everything he sees down in a notebook and refuses to use ebird or anything similar because it “ruins the sanctity of birding” and he doesn’t trust Big Tech, scared of bugs, big on environmentalism. favorite bird: pileated woodpecker

roach: big into hunting, started going to walks to get better at finding birds to shoot but ends up liking birding more, always has a big hunting knife on his waistband and whips it out anytime he hears a twig snap, makes baked goods for the group and brings them for an after-bird-walk snack, knows a lot about hawks and other birds of prey. favorite bird: turkey vulture

wee john: will hold back low hanging tree branches for you so you don’t get whacked in the head, primary bird interest is ducks, not as interested in songbirds and other smaller species but comes along anyway because he loves a nice walk, generally quiet but is quick with witty remarks, calls all birds he sees no matter what species “tiny baby” or “little lad” or some other term of endearment. favorite bird: wood duck

buttons: almost weirdly knowledgeable and overly passionate about shorebirds, can always find a gull even if they’re somewhere where there should not be a gull, when the walk is near the ocean one particular gull he calls “karl” will find him and sit on his head and no one knows how he does it, never carries binoculars but can always still see and identify the birds perfectly, shows up to walks with nothing but himself but is perfectly fine anyway and is probably one of the best birders in the group. favorite bird: red-billed gull

the swede: beginner but very enthusiastic, not good at birding but absolutely loves birding, can’t remember species names for shit but is great at finding birds and pointing them out, no one likes him but everybody loves him, great at mimicking calls and really wants to show you. favorite bird: common grackle

fang: part of ed and izzy’s research team, besties with ivan, loves birds and birdwatching so much and can’t get enough, loves animals in general, points out other wildlife seen on walks like squirrels and such, always brings bird seed and can get birds to eat out of his hand somehow, you want to walk with him he’s great company, will start crying if he sees something cute. favorite bird: black-capped chickadee

ivan: part of ed and izzy’s research team, besties with fang, lowkey hates izzy but is along for the ride, definitely too experienced to be there but is enjoying himself anyway, has the best birding tips, definitely not afraid to go off path to follow a bird he hears. favorite bird: red-winged blackbird

in conclusion i love birds and i love the silly gay pirates and i had way too much fun thinking this up.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd au #ofmd modern au #ofmd birdwatching au #birdwatching au #this is ridiculous but i love it #i love birds #loosely based off of people i've met during bird walks #or just fun ideas based on the birding community #technically this would take place in the northeast us because that's where i'm from and what birds i know #and i don't feel like researching setting-accurate birds sorry #except for the red billed gull which is actually the species for karl and is native to nz #i had to make karl accurate of course #this is probably only entertaining to a very niche audience but idc #long live the birds

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theflyingcottage · 6 months

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The Museum of Magical Birds, from THE ORNITHOLOGIST'S FIELD GUIDE TO LOVE, my light academia fantasy romance coming out July 23rd. Now available for preorder.

#fantasy romance #light academia #romantasy #cozy fantasy #fantasy novel #romcom

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mannlibrary · 5 years

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Bird travels

From the great white pelican to the snowy owl — birds spread their wings and flock southward in droves in the late summer and early fall. As the bird lovers among us would likely agree, few natural sights are as breathtaking as a group of cranes flying in a V-formation or a migrating group of snow geese, or even robins, which typically migrate in groups of less than fifty but sometimes gather in groups of hundreds or thousands. For those of us lucky enough to live near migration corridors, the sight of this fall phenomenon can captivate the mind and move the soul.

Over the centuries, many naturalists have attempted to better understand avian migration. One of these was early 20th century American ornithologist and author Frank Chapman. Chapman was a self-taught ornithologist from New Jersey – he is perhaps most well known as an early promoter of the photographic blind in bird photography, and for bringing the science of ornithology to the people through the use of non-specialized language and field guides composed with the bird-loving lay person in mind. As Frank Chapman observed in his lovely 1916 volume, The Travels of Birds, the study of natural history has been replete with thoughtful theorizing about the reasons behind bird migration, some of which have been a little out there (at least in the light of what we do currently know). Writes Chapman “At one time it was thought that some birds flew to the moon. Others, particularly the Swallows and Swifts, were believed to fly into the mud and pass the winter hibernating like frogs; while the European Cuckoo was said, in the fall, to turn into a Hawk.”

Such speculations may sound silly to us today, but the truth is, the facts of bird migration are indeed astonishing — bird populations seemingly disappear en masse overnight, make their way without a map or compass, across hundreds of thousands of miles of land and sea only to reappear every year, hale and hearty after winter’s last thaw. Thanks to insights gathered from careful scientific observation over the years, we now know that our feathered friends are able to navigate using a variety of methods such as a sun compass or olfactory cues, that migration is cued by factors like changes in day length, and that migration is driven to a significant degree by the seasonal availability of nourishment in different regions of the globe.

In Travels, Chapman takes a moment to ponder one of history’s most impressive migrants, the North American passenger pigeon (Ectopistes migratorius) whose day-flying migratory group — as observed in the early part of the 1800s at least — could reach flocks that were “a mile or more in width. Often the sun would be obscured by the clouds of flying birds." So great were the numbers of these birds in migration flight that hunters assumed the passenger pigeon would provide them with an inexhaustible supply of income — and used their rifles accordingly. Alas, passenger pigeons were hunted with such reckless abandon, and their deciduous forest habitat was sufficiently degraded during the course of the 19th century, that in less than 100 years, the death of the last known surviving passenger pigeon at the Cincinnati Zoo in 1914 marked their final extinction.

So, while Chapman's lyrical volume about travelling birds does not fail in his goal of evoking in his readers a great (yes we'll call it soaring!) sense of wonder and appreciation about bird migration, it serves as a sobering cautionary tale as well. With brand new research by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology highlighted in Science Magazine just this month suggesting an alarming 30% decline in the general bird population of Canada and the United States since the early 1970s, it's a tale that we would be wise to take seriously to heart.

Sources:

wikipedia

audubon.org

catalog.hathitrust.org

#birds #migration #Ornithology #specialcollections #rarebooks #vaultsofmann #mann library #mannlibrary #passenger pigeon

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sussex-nature-lover · 3 years

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Monday 9th November 2020

Identifying Birds and the Pleasure of Watching Wildlife

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Since working from home Ms NW tE has a new found love of bird watching.There was a mystery, well actually there have been a few. In this instance many, many birds flocking to trees opposite at the front and at the very end of the back garden too. Small and quick silhouettes observed through mobile phone pictures at a distance - not easy. It’s a lesson in patience and perseverance.

Not everything’s immediately identifiable.

My photo...not in my garden! Guinea Fowl...I knew that one

By a long process of elimination and a lot of peering at zoomed in, grainy shots on a screen, I called Goldfinch and had it confirmed by The Guru.

Still taken from a little bit of video. I’ve made the stock photo below into black and white to help compare the markings

It can be a hugely frustrating challenge to identify a new bird. I’ve been there myself over this Summer, both with fleeting glances and faceless songs - not to mention the Honey Buzzard that had even very experienced Ornithologists debating.

As a relative beginner myself I thought I’d suggest some tips that I find useful.

First off make sure you watch the bird for as long and as closely as you can. If you have binoculars handy, excellent and if you can take a zoomed in photo, so much the better, but concentrate at first on getting as good a look at as much identifying information and clues as possible.

Note the size and general shape of the bird. Try and compare it relative to something else easily identifiable that everyone will be familiar with. You can research a bird’s length which is given as measured from the tip of its bill/beak to the end of its tail, but bear in mind that looks can be deceptive depending on what the bird’s up to and also decide on bulk and body shape - remember the weather can affected how the bird looks, particularly if it has its feathers fluffed up when it’s cold.

Have a quick look for colour and whereabouts on the body it’s located. Remember the differences between males and females which might deceive - female Blackbirds for example are brown. Female birds are most often duller and less showy than their male counterparts but some species like Goldfinch (above) have only minor differences. Some species like Sparrowhawk and similar, have larger females than males.

Pay particular attention to the head and the shape of the bill. You can notice from family groups that the shape of the bill will give you an idea to what the bird feeds on e.g. if it’s fine and slender for catching insects or chunky and solid for cracking nuts and seeds. That also leads you to remember which birds feed on the wing, which like hanging feeders and who likes to eat on the ground. That said, over time birds learn and conquer their problems. I’ve watched Robins struggle and struggle to master the hanging feeder cages, but most of them have managed in the end, although they prefer to scavenge underneath when they can.

Nuthatch loves its seeds

Take a note of distinguishing marks or patterns in the feathers. It could be an eye patch or stripe, a particular colour on the head or breast, or even striped and spotted patterns on the feathers as in Goldfinch and Great Spotted Woodpeckers for example

Pied Wagtail on our Urnie

The shape of the tail is important, is it short or long, blunt or forked at the end. Is it held at an angle like the Wren’s or does it bob constantly like the aptly named Wagtail?

Grey Wagtail right by the kitchen door

When you have all your visual clues collated think about the environment, landscape, types of trees, available food all that other kind of general information that adds to the jigsaw puzzle of clues. These are all good pointers...unless of course you’ve come across a maverick (not the name of a bird, I don’t think)

Sometimes it can be really hard and the pros acknowledge that e.g. telling the difference between a Marsh Tit and a Willow Tit is, I imagine, almost impossible unless you have them side by side, but in cases like this, known habitats and local population/scarcity can help decide. We have both Marsh and Coal Tits here, I find them near identical from some angles when I can’t see the Coal Tit’s white blotch.

Here’s another poser...

Dunnock or House Sparrow

A good clue is that I often see Dunnock on its own skulking in the cover of the shrubbery whereas the House Sparrows flock together and are more gregarious and happier out in the open at the feeders. Behaviour and movement is something you soon get in tune with. It’s the same for flight patterns. From the corner of my eye, I can spot Blue Tits’ swooping flight pattern as they come in to the garden and if I see a little bird drop straight down like a helicopter landing, I know it’s going to be a Nuthatch before I look.

You can find endless information on line but I do like a book. The book I keep handy beside the binoculars in the kitchen, is this one, Kingfisher Field Guide. I’ve got others but that’s my trusty favourite.

Don’t ever worry about getting it wrong sometimes, everyone does it. Anyone can make a mistake and it’s important to remember that nature always has the capacity to break its own rules.

This year I noticed that Twitter was full of reports and photos of rosy Rose Starlings. I wasn’t lucky enough to see one, but they look beautiful. There are also conditions which affect the pigment in plumage, Albinism and Leucism - very unusual, but worth reading up on.

And finally, just because you might not be an experienced bird watcher, it doesn’t mean you won’t see extraordinary things. I mean the chances are you won’t see something completely out of the ordinary, but expect the unexpected.

Seen from inside our Hallway - one year Swallows nested and raised a successful brood in the Robin box in our front porch. We spent hours watching them at close quarters. I wish I’d had a better camera back then.

We’ve seen Turtle Doves in the garden, briefly, in two separate years. Their plumage is very distinctive and so is their call

A one off garden visitor - The Woodcock.

Keep them Peeled! 👀

Culinary Note:

I’m doing homemade pork stir fry tonight.

Strips of tenderloin, water chestnuts, baby sweetcorn, sugar snap peas, slivers of roasted red pepper and spring onion - if you try this you could vary the vegetables to your own taste and include sliced bamboo shoots if you care for them

Sauce made of a free form mix of Hoi Sin sauce, light Soy sauce, Teryaki sauce and a little white wine to let it down

To serve - mixed egg noodles and beansprouts or egg fried rice

Poppy for Remembrance - not my photo

#nature identifying birds garden birds Goldfinch nature photography

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wary-cassowary · 7 years

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I love this photo; not because it's technically excellent art (it has many flaws, and was taken on a smartphone), but because it holds a story that is dear to my heart. A bit of background: I have been obsessed with birds since I was about seven years old. I loved to read about them, watch them, feed them, and draw them, but especially to touch them. The first time I touched a wild bird was when I was 8 years old. My grandmother had a friend who loved to feed hummingbirds, and her feeders were bombarded by migrating Calliope Hummingbirds in the summer. She had spent much time acclimating the birds to humans, to the point where you could put your hands over the perches on the feeders and (if you were patient and still) the hummers would land on your fingers. I sat on a bar stool on that sunny deck and sat mesmerized as hummingbirds swarmed and glittered around me. It was an experience that ignited my longing to touch and hold birds. Ever since that day, I have chased the exhilaration and awe that comes from having a bird in the hand. I've fed gray jays at campgrounds suet (and table scraps) from my lap. I've spent summer afternoons seeing how close I can get to the bird feeder without scaring the sparrows away. I've sat in my yard offering the Steller's Jays peanuts from my hand (and only succeeded in being scolded at). I've bought a parakeet, who loves to sit on me as much as I love to hold him. I've rescued little almost-fledgling birds by returning them to their nests. I've also tried my luck with hummingbirds again, sitting outside in (what felt like) freezing temperatures holding a feeder of cold nectar to entice our resident Anna's hummingbird. He'll come and hover to eat, but he won't sit down on my fingers yet. I'll keep working with him :D Recently I found one of my old assignments from second grade in which I was tasked with describing myself. I had written, "I like to hold birds, and want to become and ornithologist (a scientist who studies birds)". What's funny is that at the time I wrote this, I had never actually held a bird. I'd had birds perch on me, but I'd never held one. I'd never felt a bird's feathers, its heartbeat, its strength. The problem is that a bird can perch on you happily, but no bird wants to be grasped and restrained by a human hand. The one instance in which causing a bird such stress seems justified is bird banding; capturing and holding birds for the purpose of research which will ultimately help them. For years I've dreamed of becoming a volunteer bird bander, which would give me the opportunity to hold birds "for a good cause" XD, but I've never found the time to do it. So really holding a wild bird remained a foggy possibility in some distant time. Ok, I know, I know. Now onto the actual story. This year (as a graduation present from my grandma), I was given the opportunity to go to Belize in Central America with my science teacher on a biology-focused trip. We stayed at a field station in the middle of the rain forest. The first night was a bumpy ride. We knew the accommodations wouldn't be luxurious, but we discovered we all might have overestimated the quality of our lodgings. That night we had a lecture from our ranger/guide about the bounty of spiders and poisonous snakes in the area and how vigilant we would need to be to protect ourselves. Boots, long pants, and long sleeves would be required at all times. To top it all off, he told us we would have to regularly inspect our rooms for scorpions. I went to bed that night wondering if I had made a terrible mistake to come to this muggy, scorpion-snake-and-spider-infested, oven-like, air-conditioning-forsaken hut in the middle of the prehistoric jungle. In the morning, I woke up at 5:00, bitterly put on my already sticky khaki pants, ventilation-less rubber boots, and a greasy coating of DEET, and tiredly walked down to breakfast. The moment I saw the veranda, I knew all these challenges would be worth it. Three hummingbird feeders hung from the thatched roof of the outdoor deck, and hummingbirds were SWARMING around them. There were White-bellied Emeralds, Wedge-tailed Sabrewings, Rufous-tailed Hummingbirds, White-necked Jacobins, and more. It took my breath away. I could barely tear myself away to go birding. I was immediately reminded of my experience with the Calliope hummingbirds. These hummers flashed by our heads without concern, and were obviously acclimated to people. Could my earlier adventure be repeated? I asked our guide if I could take a feeder down during lunch and place it beside me. With a unequivocal tone, he said, "They will not come. They will not come". He said it wouldn't work . . . but he didn't say I couldn't try! During my free time, I sat on a bar stool (once again) and set the hummingbird feeder on the armrest with my hands covering the outermost perches. I don't know how long I waited. Maybe 30 minutes, maybe 45, maybe an hour. But . . . they did come! The White-bellied Emeralds were the bravest. The hovered at first, soon they outstretched their tiny claws, and eventually they sat comfortably on my fingers while they lapped up their nectar. I sat totally still in that stool for at least an hour, and every moment was miraculous. I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven. I spent every afternoon at that field station feeding those hummers from my hand. The initial waiting period was never required again. Even better, other people could take my place, and the birds would sit on their fingers without hesitation as well. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, it did! The dining room was attached to the deck, and its windows were just screens to let the breeze in but keep the bugs out. One of its doorways had no door, and was simply always open. One morning, I saw something buzzing and vibrating underneath the short curtains. Expecting to find a huge, disgusting bug, I lifted the curtain with dread. I found not a bug, but a hummingbird! He had flown in the open doorway and was now set on escaping through the see-through but impenetrable screen. He was buzzing frantically, his beak stuck through the netting. I scooped him up as best I could and managed to hold on to his struggling body just long enough to bring him outside. It was a fantastic but fleeting moment. Throughout that day, two more hummingbirds became trapped inside. As I said, I have no experience banding birds, but I have done a little bit of research on how to safely hold captured songbirds. I have no idea how a hummingbird is supposed to be held, but I felt confident I could safely hold a hummer in the songbird grip I knew: holding the head between the index and third finger and using the other three fingers to hold the wings against the body. I was again unable to get a good grip on the next hummingbird I rescued, but "third time's the charm" proved to be true. On the third rescue (this time a White-bellied Emerald), I was able to hold the hummer's wings against his sides to immobilize him securely but safely. I brought him out to the deck to show my friends, and allow them to get an up-close look at the little living jewel. I only held him long enough for my teacher to snap this picture, and then released him. It was truly the culmination and fulfillment of a life-long dream. I held a hummingbird. I felt his scintillating feathers, his racing heartbeat, his unbelievable strength. I marveled at his illogical smallness, and surveyed his seemingly impossible existence. I held a hummingbird! All I can do is thank God that he gave me this incredible gift. It's all His: His creature, His design, His creation that He looks after so dearly. Thank you God for allowing me to touch one of your masterpieces! I haven't really spoken about my faith on the here yet. Maybe I'll write a longer post on the subject sometime. All I can say is this: the closer I look at the world, at nature especially, the more I believe that it has been wonderfully, carefully, and lovingly designed. Wow, if you read this entire treatise, I applaud you.

#hummingbird #bird #birdinhand #birdinthehand #rescue #travel #nature #travelphotography

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itunesbooks · 5 years

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Guide to Troubled Birds - Mockingbird The Mincing

Guide to Troubled Birds Mockingbird The Mincing Genre: Humor Price: $9.99 Publish Date: June 12, 2014 Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group Seller: PENGUIN GROUP USA, INC. A humorous, illustrated, pocket field guide describing where to find—or where to avoid—the most disturbed North American birds. The Mincing Mockingbird Guide to Troubled Birds allows anyone to quickly identify psychotic, violent or mentally unstable bird species—and provides the perfect gag gift for your bird loving (or fearing) friends and family. Throughout the book the reader will discover tales of murder, assault, mental breakdowns, obesity, drug abuse and infidelity among the birds. This guide is used and recommended by law enforcement agencies and ignored by leading ornithologists. We are only just discovering the reality of our avian adversaries, with their reptilian brains, their appetites for mayhem and the fact that they fly mostly to spite us. To ignore the information found within this volume may be at the peril of your very life. http://dlvr.it/R1qlYP

#Humor

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claudia1829things · 5 years

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"RACE TO FREEDOM: THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD" (1994) Review

"RACE TO FREEDOM: THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD" (1994) Review Many television viewers and moviegoers might be surprised to learn that Hollywood had aired a good number of television movies that featured the topic of U.S. slavery. One of those movies proved to be an offshoot of the 1977 miniseries, "ROOTS". However, another was the 1994 television movie called "RACE TO FREEDOM: THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD".

The 1994 Canadian television movie is a story about the Underground Railroad, a loose network of secret routes and safe houses occasionally used by willing 19th-century slaves in the United States to escape to free states and Canada with occasional aid of abolitionists and allies sympathetic to their cause. Before one assumes this movie is about the history of the actual network . . . it is not. Instead, "RACE TO FREEDOM" told the story of four fugitive slaves from North Carolina, who made the journey north to freedom during the fall of 1850. Since their journey took place not long after the passage of the Compromise of 1850, the four fugitives were forced to journey to Canada, instead of a Northern state above the Mason-Dixon Line. The story began with two events - the capture of a slave named Joe, who is owned by a North Carolina planter named Colonel Fairling; and the arrival of a guest of Farley's, a Canadian ornithologist (studies birds) named Dr. Alexander Ross. Fairling is an amateur bird watcher who had invited Ross to observe the migration of certain bird in the area. Unbeknownst to the planter, Dr. Ross is also an abolitionist and newly-recruited member of the Underground Railroad. He has also arrived at the Fairling plantation to offer help to any slaves willing to escape. In the end, four slaves take up his offer - a blacksmith named Thomas; two field slaves named Minnie and Walter; and a house slave named Sarah, who is also Thomas' love and Joe's younger sister. After his men's failure to capture the four runaways, Fairling hires a professional slave catcher named Wort and his slave/tracker Solomon to find and capture them. Unlike some people, I believe that stories (in novels, movies, television, stage plays) about slavery (in any country) can be told in a variety of ways - as a family saga, a historical biopic, or even as a comedy satire on the sanctity of American history. "RACE TO FREEDOM" turned out to be an adventure tale in the form of a road trip, with history, action and romance for good measure. It is not the first movie about the Underground Railroad I have seen. But it is one of my two favorite productions on the topic. One of the reasons why "RACE TO FREEDOM" became such a favorite with me is that . . . well, screenwriters Peter Mohan and Nancy Trites-Botkin created a first-rate, solid screenplay. The pair did an excellent job of setting up the narrative with the two events mentioned - Joe's capture and Dr. Ross' arrival at the Farley plantation. The screenplay also allowed viewers to become acquainted with the movie's four protagonists, as they debate over whether or not to make the bid for freedom. It did the same for the two antagonists - the slave catching duo of Wort and Solomon. Mohan and Trites-Botkin's screenplay also did a solid job of presenting obstacles for the protagonists to overcome, as they made their way north from western North Carolina to Canada. And the screenplay also presented a northbound route that did not come off as implausible. I still shake my head in disbelief over the California-bound route that author George MacDonald Fraser plotted in one of his FLASHMAN novels. But more importantly, "RACE TO FREEDOM" proved to be a first-rate adventure filled with a well-written narrative, solid action, strong characterization, nail-biting suspense, a strong, if not perfect, grasp of history, and a surprising twist in the end. As I had earlier stated, "RACE TO FREEDOM" featured some strong characterizations. And this would not have been possible without a first-rate cast. The movie included some solid performances from Falconer Abraham, Jennifer Phipps, Peter Boretski and James Blendick. Dawnn Lewis gave a funny and sardonic performance as the pragmatic Minnie. Also, Tim Reid, Nigel Bennett and Alfre Woodward all made solid cameo appearances as abolitionists Frederick Douglass and Levi Coffin, and Underground Railroad conductor Harriet Tubman. However, in my opinion, the movie featured five performances that really impressed me. Both Janet Bailey and Courtney B. Vance gave superb and subtle performances as the two of the four slaves who attempt the journey for freedom. Not only was I impressed by how they conveyed the complex aspects of their respective personalities, I was also impressed by their strong, screen chemistry. Michael Riley gave a very interesting performance as the Canadian ornithologist, Dr. Alexander Ross, who heart seemed to be in the right place, despite his obvious lack of experience with the Underground Railroad. I especially enjoyed his interactions with Vance's character, Thomas. However, I feel that the two most interesting performances in the movie came from Glynn Turman and Ron White, who portrayed the two slave catchers, Solomon and Wort. The two actors did a superb job in conveying one of the most interesting and complex slave/master relationship I have ever seen on screen. Turman and White really made it easy for me to understand how emotionally complex that relationship can be. There is a lot to admire about "RACE TO FREEDOM". However, I did managed to spot certain aspects that I found questionable. The performances of the actors who portrayed Colonel Fairling's neighbors struck me as wooden and bad clichés of the typical Southern planter found in antebellum South movie and television productions of the last forty years. Two, actor Tim Reid was too old to be portraying abolitionist Frederick Douglass at the time. I guess I should not be surprised. "RACE TO FREEDOM" marked the third time this has happened. Reid was almost fifty when this movie was in production. And the abolitionist was 32 years old during the movie's setting of 1850. Finally, although I found Alfre Woodward's portrayal of Harriet Tubman rather entertaining, I found myself wondering why the historical figure was in this movie. Tubman usually operated as an Underground Railroad conductor between the Eastern Shore of Maryland and Canada - which meant she never went anywhere near Cinncinati, Ohio. Yet, this movie had her escorting runaways from Cinncinati. Worse, Trites-Botkin's screenplay strongly hinted that Tubman was a veteran conductor for the Underground Railroad. This is not true. Tubman had ran away from Maryland in December 1849. She did not begin her activities as a conductor until the late fall or early spring of 1850. During this movie's time setting, she was as much of a newbie as Dr. Ross. "RACE TO FREEDOM: THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD" may not be easy to find. The television movie first aired on a cable network (unbeknownst to me) some twenty years ago. And I would have never found out about it, if it were not for the channel guide I had received from my cable company on a weekly basis. And thank goodness I managed to stumble across it. The production became one of my all time movies - television or otherwise - about U.S. slavery. If you can find it in a store, on Netflix or even on the Internet, I highly suggest that you watch it.

#race to freedom: the underground railroad #the underground railroad #slavery #u.s. history #courtney b. vance #janet bailey #dawnn lewis #falconer abraham #michael riley #ron white #glynn turman #alfre woodard #tim reid

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kristablogs · 4 years

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Black birders have never been safe or celebrated

Most birding institutions and clubs discount Black participants, either through their whiteness or inaccessibility. (National Park Service /)

Jacqueline L. Scott is a PhD student in Social Justice Education at the University of Toronto. This story originally featured on The Conversation.

Birdwatching is open to all. Unless you are Black.

This is the message Christian Cooper received as he was birding in New York City’s Central Park last week. When Cooper asked a white woman to obey the posted signs regarding off-leash dogs, she called the police, claiming that her life was being threatened by an African American man. Christian Cooper filmed the encounter, which his sister posted online. It went viral, resulting in the woman being fired from her job.

There are different ways of looking at the encounter in the park.

Birding is one of the most popular nature-based activities in Canada. About a quarter of adults spend time watching, feeding or photographing birds. Birding is widespread as it is cheap and can be done close to home. It appeals to both women and men. It’s a charming way to teach children about nature.

Birdwatching is also a racialized hobby, where whiteness and white privilege work together to keep it non-Black. What this means is that the birders are white, may belong to white birding clubs and go on birding walks in woodsy areas which are seen as white spaces. If they are lucky, they may encounter a Black birder once every decade.

As I was #birding I thought about #ChristianCooper. It's hard to be #BlackOutdoors when white people challenge our right to be in the space. Racism is in #conservation and #EnvironmentalEd fields. #birdwatching #UrbanWildlife pic.twitter.com/aBn1LZh7gq

— Jacqueline L. Scott, Black Outdoors (@BlackOutdoors1) May 27, 2020

I am a Black birdwatcher, and I am also a researcher whose work focuses on how race shapes conservation, environmentalism and outdoor recreation. These fields are overwhelmingly white and noted for their lack of diversity.

Rules for Black birders

Ornithologist Drew Lanham has written nine rules for Black birders, including: “Don’t bird in a hoodie. Ever.” In a recent update, he added: “Roadrunners don’t get gunned down for jogging through neighborhoods, do they?” These pieces of advice refer to Trayvon Martin, a Black Florida teen killed while wearing a hoodie, and Ahmaud Arbery, a Black man from Georgia slain while running.

Racism in birdwatching is not a new phenomenon. The founder of modern bird conservation, John James Audubon, is rightly praised for his splendid books Birds of America. However, slavery paid for his birding activities: Audubon was born in Haiti and was the heir to a sugar plantation.

On his arrival to the US in 1803, he remained connected to slavery by buying and selling enslaved people. In fact, Audubon painted birds on a visit to Canada in 1833, the same year that slavery was abolished in Canada and the rest of the British Empire.

Audubon’s <i>Birds of America</i> is a celebrated series of books cataloging the continent’s birds. But its author, John James Audubon, was a direct beneficiary and participant in the slave trade. (John James Audubon/)

Ornithology, or the study of birds, was also hatched as colonial discipline. The quest to find and classify the birds of the world flew wing by wing with the spread of European empires and colonialism. White birders are credited with discoveries, while the local people who taught them, guided them and prepared their scientific specimens are erased from the studies.

In the past, birds were hunted for food and for their feathers. Watching birds for pleasure took off in the early 1800s, as a counter to industrialization and brutish life in the cities. Early birding clubs were formed by and for white people. Modern birding and bird eco-tourism are still dominated by this demographic.

Black faces in the white outdoors

I spend a lots of time in parks and conservation areas (which are, in turn, on Indigenous land), either hiking, cycling or looking for birds to add my life list.

In Black Faces, White Spaces, geographer Carolyn Finney traces how the legacies of slavery warp African American experiences in outdoors recreation. Their visits to national parks are tainted by everyday racism and fears of racial violence; Black people are made to feel unwelcome, and treated as if they are intruders on what is supposedly public space.

In geography, the racialization of space and the spatialization of race describes how Black people are expected to be penned in urban areas paved with concrete, and not in parks and free to enjoy nature. Nature is thus coded as a white space and Black people who venture there are seen as out of place. The same phenomenon occurs in Canada where wilderness and whiteness go together in our land of the Great White North.

The lack of role models is another obstacle to Black people’s participation in birdwatching. In one study, two-thirds of African Americans had never met a birdwatcher. People are less likely to try a new hobby if they don’t see someone like themselves doing so.

It's #BlackBirdersWeek! Day 2 is #PostABird! Mine is very much Southern Ocean inspired. Everyone on here knows I adore King Penguins 🐧. It was love at first sight! .@BlackAFinSTEM #BlackInNature 📷 Taken close to the Marion Island Sub-Antarctic 🇿🇦 base. pic.twitter.com/ktRtAIcL2U

— Sandra Boitumelo Phoma (@Sandra_Phoma) June 1, 2020

In response, Black outdoor activists and enthusiasts have established #BlackBirdersWeek as a social media celebration. According to a statement from former US president Barack Obama, it should not be the new normal, where Black people are harassed in public spaces by white people or the police, including birdwatching in a park.

I got into birding by looking out the window. I saw a flash of crimson and dashed out to check it. I thought the poor bird was spray-painted bright red, as a prank by graffiti artists working on a nearby mural. Then, I spotted another pair of crimson wings. The cardinals sparked my love of birding. I hold on to this moment, this memory of joy, when I think of other Black people’s brush with color and birdwatching.

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scootoaster · 4 years

Text

Black birders have never been safe or celebrated

Most birding institutions and clubs discount Black participants, either through their whiteness or inaccessibility. (National Park Service /)

Jacqueline L. Scott is a PhD student in Social Justice Education at the University of Toronto. This story originally featured on The Conversation.

Birdwatching is open to all. Unless you are Black.

There are different ways of looking at the encounter in the park.

— Jacqueline L. Scott, Black Outdoors (@BlackOutdoors1) May 27, 2020

Rules for Black birders

Black faces in the white outdoors

I spend a lots of time in parks and conservation areas (which are, in turn, on Indigenous land), either hiking, cycling or looking for birds to add my life list.

— Sandra Boitumelo Phoma (@Sandra_Phoma) June 1, 2020

0 notes

tripstations · 5 years

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Coast through summer: 10 itineraries for the UK seaside | Travel

Llŷn peninsula, Gwynedd

Parts of the Llŷn peninsula still feel wild and remote – head to its tip along single-track roads for some splendid isolation and a glimpse into its mythical and holy past. The south coast is more popular with holidaymakers: it’s all about surfing, sailing and sandcastles on its long, sandy beaches.

Day one Shop for fruit and veg and all manner of worldly goods at the popular Wednesday market in Pwllheli – handy if you arrive by train, as it’s right by the station. Alternatively, wait until Sunday when the market stalls sell more local produce. Stop for fish and chips at Allports, where the chips come double-fried to order. Pwllheli boasts sandy beaches, Plas Heli – the Welsh National Sailing Academy – and the Hafan Pwllheli Marina, so there are plenty of sailing and yacht-ogling options.

Day two See the work of Welsh artists, sculptors and ceramicists at Plas Glyn-y-Weddw in Llanbedrog, a historic arts centre in a fine Victorian Gothic building overlooking Cardigan Bay. Wander around the exhibitions or buy jewellery, textiles and ceramics made by local craftspeople in its shop. Stop for coffee and cake in the glass-roofed tearoom, then walk its network of woodland paths that join the Wales Coast Path on the cliffs above Llanbedrog beach, with its colourful beach huts, shallow water and bucket-and-spade-friendly sand.

Day three Surf the waves rolling in from the Irish Sea at one of the long bays on the peninsula’s south coast. Hell’s Mouth (Porth Neigwl), between the headlands of Mynydd Penarfynydd and Mynydd Cilan, has the most reliable surf breaks. Its long, gentle, shelving beach suits swimmers, body boarders and kayakers, too. At the sheltered beach at Porthor, on the north coast, body boarders may even come nose-to-nose with a seal. Porthor has “whistling sands” – slide bare feet along the beach and listen to it squeak.

Plas Glyn-y-Wedd arts centre, Llanbedrog. Photograph: lan King/Alamy

Day four Be a pilgrim and walk part of the 135-mile-long North Wales Pilgrim’s Way (Taith Pererin Gogledd Cymru) to the end of the peninsula. Pick it up at the last leg, from Porthor to Aberdaron (about three miles). Then catch a ferry to Ynys Enlli (Bardsey Island) from Porth Meudwy (£32.50 adult, £20 child, book in advance on bardseyboattrips.com), where, according to legend, 20,000 saints are buried. Be warned: the strong tides and currents mean that the crossing can be choppy and infrequent.

Day five Walk to the Tŷ Coch Inn (no cars allowed, park in the National Trust car park a 20-minute walk away), which is right on the beach at the tiny hamlet of Porthdinllaen. One of a string of buildings protected by a headland, with the sea a few feet away, the pub is a perfect lunch stop. Refuel with sandwiches and pasties, then go for a stand-up paddleboarding lesson, running every Thursday and Saturday throughout the summer holidays. Learn about Porthdinllaen’s surprising shipbuilding and fishing past at Caban Griff, the National Trust centre in the village.

Stay Bert’s Kitchen Garden (three-nights from £133 to £145 per pitch based on four sharing, pre-pitched tents also available) in Trefor is an eco-campsite with 15 pitches, communal campfires, a private shingle beach and a cafe in a converted campervan.

Ardnamurchan, Highlands

Bay of plenty … silver sands, rockpools and wildlife abound at Sanna, Ardnamurchan. Photograph: Derek Croucher/Alamy

A solitary road alongside Loch Sunart runs through this remote peninsula in the north-west Highlands. Wild, sparsely inhabited and unspoilt, it is the westernmost point of the UK mainland and the place to go for unhurried exploration of beaches, mountains, forest and moorland, taking in wildlife along the way.

Day one Gen up on local wildlife at the Ardnamurchan natural history visitor centre. The area is rich in wildlife, including otters, pine martens, golden eagles and wild cats. Some – pine martens, field voles and swallows – make their way to the Living Building, built to encourage a variety of creatures to make it their home. Visitors can walk through this turf-roofed timber building to experience simulations of various habitats, including a wild cat den and a wood at night. Its Lochview Tearoom serves full Scottish breakfasts and light lunches, or buy sandwiches and cake to take away.

Day two Hire a bike from Sunart Cycles (£20 a day) and either pedal independently or ask for a pre-planned tour. Bikes can be dropped off for no extra charge in the towns of Acharacle and Salen. Cycling on the peninsula itself is restricted mostly to the main road, which can get busy in summer. There are cycle paths on the other side of Loch Sunart in Morvern, however, which include routes through nature reserves and the ancient forest of Ariundle Oakwood. Suitable for hybrid and mountain bikes, there are several challenging off-road tracks.

Day three Climb Ben Hiant to get 360-degree views of the peninsula. Not as forbidding as it might sound, this extinct volcano is easy to scale – it’s a mere 528 metres high and there is a clear path to the top. As you ascend, look out for signs of pine martens and red deer. If visibility is good, you can see the islands of Muck, Eigg and Rum, Mull, Coll and Tiree from the top, as well as the rest of Ardnamurchan spilling out before you. Ben Hiant is loosely translated as Holy or Blessed Mountain, which may be a nod to the ancient burial ground nearby, at the bay of Camas nan Gaell.

Loch Sunart is a base for canoe and kayak outings. Photograph: Andy Sutton/Alamy

Day four Otter Adventures can guide you on a variety of kayak and canoe outings on Loch Sunart, including a Sea Kayak and a Family Canoe Adventure. With a guide (and other canoeists), you get to stop off at otherwise inaccessible islands and forests, or light a fire and brew a cup of tea. There may also be seals. Journeys take up most of the day and cost £80 adult, £50 child.

Day five Pack provisions and head to Sanna Bay, at the tip of the peninsula, as there is nothing to buy when you arrive. A remote and lovely spot with soft white sand beaches, turquoise seas and flower-rich machair in spring and summer, it is easy to spend hours here doing nothing very much apart from a spot of rockpooling or beachcombing. There are plenty of wildlife-spotting opportunities, too: sand martens nest in the dune cliffs; otters forage along the shore; butterflies feed on wildflowers; you may even spot a white-tailed eagle.

Stay Keeper’s West cottage (sleeps four, from £428 to £676 a week) sits beneath the Ardnamurchan Lighthouse at the edge of the peninsula. Tir Nan Og (sleeps six, from £340 to £640 a week) is a simple whitewashed stone cottage, minutes away from the white sand beach of Sanna Bay.

Morecambe Bay, Cumbria/Lancashire

Royal male … Piel Island has its own ‘king’ – also the pub landlord. Photograph: robertharding/Alamy

The vast, shimmering sands of Morecambe Bay may look beguiling but the quicksand and mudflats are notoriously dangerous. Best to admire these from the shore and explore its estuaries, islands and resorts instead.

Day one Stop for coffee at the Ravilious Rotunda Bar at the Midland Hotel – non-residents are welcome. This art deco smasher, with its curvilinear white facade, has become a destination in its own right. Sit by a window and look out over Morecambe Bay’s seemingly never-ending expanse. On 31 August–1 September, Hemingway Designs is holding its annual Vintage By The Sea Festival (free entry) at the hotel. Expect many moustachioed and red-lipsticked retro enthusiasts enjoying the vintage fairground, live music, market and classic cars.

Day two Walk south on Morecambe’s promenade to the very end – about three miles, depending on where you start. This flat and undemanding route, also ideal for cycling, skirts Morecambe Bay. You might see wading birds such as oystercatchers and turnstone digging around in the mudflats for food – especially at low tide when they are driven closer to the promenade. You’ll definitely see the wonderful statue of Eric Morecambe in one of his characteristic poses with a pair of binoculars around his neck (he was a keen ornithologist). At the prom’s end, walk up to Heysham Head and the ruined eighth-century St Patrick’s Chapel (rumoured to be where St Patrick came ashore following a shipwreck), which has great views of the bay. And look out for the body-shaped pre-Norman graves, carved out of rock and facing towards the ocean.

Day three Fortify yourself with breakfast at View Café, decorated with vinyl and music memorabilia. A designated Spam Menu includes Spam fritters, but there are other, more contemporary – and more appealing – options. Hire a bike at Morecambe station from Bike and Go (£10 for an annual subscription, then £3.80 a day), then join the Bay Cycle Way and pedal part of the route out of Morecambe, heading north along the coast. (Its entire length, from Walney Island in Barrow-in-Furness to Glasson Dock in Lancaster, is 81 miles.) Plotted by Sustrans, it takes cyclists on traffic-free paths and quiet lanes wherever possible (get a map, which includes several day rides at sustrans.org.uk, £13).

Pedalling the Bay Cycle Way. Photograph: Keith Douglas/Alamy

Day four Catch the train from Lancaster to Grange-over-Sands (or from Morecambe and change) and travel over the 505-metre-long viaduct that snakes across the estuary of the River Kent. On arrival, check out the station, with its elegant red-and-green wrought iron pillars supporting glass platform canopies. Grange-over-Sands was a popular resort during the Victorian sea-bathing craze and still has a rarefied air. Its sheltered position means it also has many subtropical plants along the promenade and in the Ornamental Gardens. It’s not the place to swim, however: at extreme low tides, the sea can be around 10 miles away.

Day five Have an audience with the King of Piel Island. This 50-acre kingdom off the tip of Furness peninsula, Barrow-in-Furness, comprises a ruined 14th-century castle, a row of houses and the Ship Inn. The landlord, Steve Chattaway, is also the king – a title he inherited with ownership of the pub. You can camp here (£5 per tent, must be pre-booked) and the pub also serves food, but most visitors come for the day. In high season (April-Sept), catch the ferry from Roa Island, which is connected to the mainland by an isthmus (daily 11am-4.30pm, weather permitting, adult £5 return, child £3). Piel Island is also accessible on foot at low tide from Walney Point, but be warned: it’s risky as swift tides can leave you stranded.

Stay Gibraltar Farm campsite (from £14 per tent) in Silverdale is a working farm in the Arnside & Silverdale AONB, with views of Morecambe Bay and its own ancient woodland. For groups, camping in a designated area in the woods is £160 a night for up to 10 tents. Wolf House Cottages are two self-catering properties near the village of Silverdale: the Coach House sleeps six, from £575 to £795 a week; the Old Cottage sleeps four adults and two children, from £495 to £580 a week.

Saltburn-by-the-sea, North Yorkshire

Twilight zone … Saltburn-by-the-sea has the only surviving pier in Yorkshire. Photograph: meldayus/Getty Images

Often overlooked in favour of its neighbour, the quainter fishing village of Staithes, or the mighty harbour that is Whitby, Saltburn-by-the-Sea is a Victorian seaside resort that remains steadfastly unchanged. It still has its original pier and lift, a funicular railway that takes passengers from the clifftop town down to the massive, sandy beach.

Day one Step into the imagination of Henry Pease, a Victorian Quaker and industrialist, who literally dreamt up Saltburn in 1858: a celestial vision prompted him to create a town on the edge of a cliff and turn its glen into pleasure grounds. The result is a dignified town with substantial houses overlooking the beach, streets named after jewels (Pearl Street, Ruby Street, Emerald Street) and a very long pier (see below). It also has a variety of independent shops – check out Chocolini’s for handmade chocolates, and Lillian Daph for Scandi-style homeware. Then promenade through the Valley Gardens, whose winding paths cross a stream, go through woodland, and pass formal gardens and a colonnaded gazebo.

Day two Plummet to the beach from the town in the Victorian, water-powered lift. The cliff lift deposits passengers at the entrance of the 200-metre-long pier, which extends across the wind-blown sand at low tide and over rolling waves at high. It has absolutely nothing on it except dog walkers and the occasional seabird – a place to go to clear the head and gulp salty air. The beach is a well-regarded surf spot, and although the sea can get lively, there are good beginner’s waves on either side of the pier. Saltburn Surf School has been teaching folk to surf here for over 30 years and offers private lessons (£50 an hour for one person, £60 for two).

Day three Hunt for fossils among the rocks and shingle on the beach. The entire coast between Saltburn and Scarborough is the stuff of geography field trips, and packed with Jurassic geological interest. Saltburn beach is backed by the sheer rock of Huntcliff, whose erosion has revealed ammonites, crinoids and belemnites, and fossilised wood. Staithes, Robin Hood’s Bay and Runswick Bay are all good fossil-hunting grounds.

The venerable Saltburn Cliff Lift. Photograph: stevegeer/Getty Images

Day four Spend a few hours in the village of Sandsend, a 30-minute drive along the coast. There is not a whole heap to do here except enjoy its massive (four mile) sandy beach and look around its well-scrubbed village: stone cottages with red roofs, some of which are holiday accommodation, sit in front of immaculate lawns beside a stream that rushes towards the sea. A sprinkle of shops includes a good general store and cafe. Eat well for a reasonable price at the Bridge Cottage Bistro, which serves an imaginative menu including many dishes involving locally caught fish. Alternatively, plump for a Whitby crab sandwich on the deck of the Sandside Cafe, inches from the beach.

Day five Visit Staithes to see why it has inspired so many artists, past and present. Park at the top of the town and walk down its steep main street to the harbour, wandering into intriguing-looking alleys along the way. Call in at Dotty’s Vintage Tearoom for a buttered tea cake and a pot of tea among vintage collectibles. The Cod and Lobster Inn on the harbour wall is as close as you could get to the sea: waves lash against its front door at high tide. At low tide, the rocky shoreline platform outside is exposed – good rockpooling territory.

Stay Coastguard Cottage (sleeps four, from £320 to £650 a week) is one of a row of houses perched above Saltburn beach on the Cleveland Way. The Spa Hotel (doubles from £109 a night B&B) sits above the beach, has views of the sea and cliffs, and offers Surf and Stay packages which include lessons.

Orford, Suffolk

Radio station … former military facility the Black Beacon can be climbed for great views of Orford Ness. Photograph: Susie Kearley/Alamy

Traces of Orford’s past can be detected in its ex-fishermen’s cottages, busy quayside and hulks of old boats sinking into the mud. This pretty village is a mixture of the delightful and the beguilingly sinister: the former military testing site and shingle bank, Orford Ness, stretch out alongside.

Day one Pick up breakfast from Pump Street Bakery in Market Square: all of its naturally leavened bread and pastries are made in the village, and it makes its own small-batch chocolate. Nip into Pinney’s for picnic supplies – the shop beside its smokehouse sells its own smoked fish, and wet fish caught daily on its boats. Orford General Store is an excellent village shop selling local cheese, fruit and veg, and just about everything else you may need, including maps.

Day two Catch the little ferry from Orford quay to Orford Ness, a strange and rare shingle spit running parallel to the coast. The fragile, shifting bar of pebbles, dunes, reeds, saltmarsh and brackish lagoons is populated by avocets, redshank, oystercatchers, brown hares and Chinese water deer among many other species. Barn owls also nest in several of the buildings built from 1913-1987, when Orford Ness was used as a military test site. Follow waymarked trails to see these and the wildlife.

Day three Motor south along the coast towards the estuary of the River Deben, stopping at Shingle Street – a lonely row of ex-fishermen’s cottages (now holiday accommodation) evacuated in 1940 under mysterious circumstances. Sit on the beach, soak up the atmosphere, or go for a swim. Stop for lunch at The Ramsholt Arms (the lunch menu includes handmade faggots, local ham steak and veggie options), and watch yachts sail by from its deck overlooking the estuary.

Pump Street Bakery, Orford. Photograph: Kumar Sriskandan/Alamy

Day four Tune into your animal spirit with a goat yoga session – the goats wander among you – at Skylark Farm (£15, book in advance) in Bawdsey, held on Sunday mornings and Tuesday evenings. Goat petting/milking sessions can also be arranged as a child-friendly option. Drive on to Felixstowe, and either marvel at the Tetris-like dexterity of the crane drivers at the container port, stroll through the recently restored Seafront Gardens, or swim in the sea (rated “excellent” water quality by the Environment Agency). The beach is a mixture of shingle and sand.

Day five Climb aboard the Lady Florence, a lovely wooden second world war supply ship, for a lunch or supper cruise. Departing from Orford Quay, the three-hour trip along the rivers Alde and Ore goes past Orford Ness to Shingle Street and the North Sea, before returning. It also circumnavigates Havergate Island bird sanctuary. Alternatively, a breakfast cruise will take you upstream to Aldeburgh and back, as you eat hot muffins on deck. Twelve passengers per cruise, £22.50pp, meal extra, rivercruiserestaurants.co.uk.

Stay Daphne Cottage (sleeps two, from £485 to £795 a week) is a Grade II-listed Victorian cottage with a small garden at the front and a patio at the back.

Lynton and Lynmouth, Exmoor coast, Devon

Devon sent … Lynmouth. Photograph: Manfred Gottschalk/Getty Images

The twin towns of Lynton and Lynmouth peer over the sea from the precipitous cliffs of the north Devon coast. Exmoor is close by, to the south, and the cliffs and gorges are threaded with numerous walking trails, rocky coves and hidden beaches.

Day one Ascend from the Esplanade at Lynmouth to its sister town of Lynton on the Cliff Railway. There’s no better way to get up a cliff than sitting in a bottle-green carriage of a Victorian funicular railway as it steadily makes its way to the top. Two carriages work in tandem – one goes up as the other goes down – propelled by the gravity pull of water discharged from tanks fitted to each. At the top, a giant scone awaits in the cafe as part of a Devon cream tea, plus views of the coast curling out of sight.

Day two Walk to the Valley of Rocks. A 20-minute walk from the Cliff Railway along clearly marked paths will take you to a U-shaped dry valley that runs parallel to the coast. A spectacular smattering of shattered rocks populated by feral goats (and, in high season, coachloads of tourists), it has inspired Romantic artists (Samuel Palmer), poets (Coleridge, Wordsworth) and novelist RD Blackmore, who set parts of Lorna Doone here. Free guided walks to Hollerday Hill and the Valley of Rocks leave Lynton Town Hall throughout the summer.

Day three Breakfast on shakshuka or eggs benedict at in Lynton. Then head for Lynmouth car park and follow the East Lyn River to Watersmeet (click on the link for downloadable circular walk). A pleasant two-mile stroll will take you along the river, through a thickly wooded gorge lush with ferns and over bridges to the fairytale-like Watersmeet House. Now a cafe, this ex-fishing lodge sits at the confluence of the East Lyn River and Hoar Oak Water. It is still possible to fish here for salmon, sea trout and brown trout (permits available from Watersmeet House), but most choose to drink tea on the lawn and listen to the river rushing past.

The Valley of the Rocks meets the Bristol Channel west of Lynton. Photograph: Craig Joiner/Alamy

Day four Discover a secret(ish) cove. Pack lunch and a book, and scramble down to Wringcliff Bay, following a path from the roundabout in the Valley of Rocks. It takes a bit of effort to reach it – it is accessible only by a steep footpath, so children should probably avoid it – but the peacefulness of the place is worth it. The small sandy beach is sheltered by steep cliffs all around and is often deserted. Strong currents mean it is not advisable to swim far out but paddling is highly recommended, as is sitting on a rock and watching the waves. Dogs are allowed.

Day five Explore Combe Martin, a seaside resort that runs ribbon-like along the bottom of a valley with a sheltered (and popular) sandy beach. Pick up some homemade pork pies and pasties from the Combe Martin Farm Shop, then spend the day rockpooling, or hire a kayak or two from Surfside Kayak Hire and go looking for hidden coves and dolphins. Alternatively, take the South West Coast Path out of town and walk to the vertiginous Hangman Hills, the highest sea cliffs in England. (Combe Martin is also where the Hunting of the Earl of Rone – a custom involving villagers dressing up and chasing the Earl of Rone through the town – takes place every May.)

Stay Bayview Tower in Lynton (sleeps four, from £560 to £2,129 a week,) is a rather grand apartment (with four-poster bed) looking over Lynmouth Bay. Countisbury Hill Cottage (sleeps four, from £309 to £819 for two nights/£559 to £1,479 a week, dogs welcome) is a stone cottage with an enclosed garden in a remote hamlet near Lynton. Foreland Bothy (sleeps four, from £21 to £27 a night) is a simple, windowless room with wooden platforms for beds (no mattresses or other amenities), right on the South West Coast Path near Lynton.

Winchelsea Beach, East Sussex

Big beach … Camber Sands (a few miles east of Winchelsea and Rye) is expansive enough to accommodate the thousands who head there on hot days. Photograph: Zuma Press/Alamy

Tucked behind a shingle ridge, a stroll from the soft sands of Camber and three miles from the cobbled lanes of Rye, the village of Winchelsea Beach still feels undiscovered. Pre-war railway-carriage homes sit beside wooden beach huts, bungalows and smart, contemporary dwellings, giving the area an appealingly ramshackle and curious air.

Day one Stock up on supplies for the week at Salts Farm Shop just north-west of Rye, which sells Kentish Mayde pies, free-range eggs from a farm in Battle, and beer from Romney Marsh Brewery. Head up the hill to the Winchelsea Farm Kitchen for good quality meat, wine and other deli delights. On the way back, drop in at The Clam, a new Camber cafe serving all-day brunch – tasty sourdough toast toppings include tahini, blood orange, pistachio and honey – and steak tacos.

Day two Stay local and make the most of Camber Sands on your doorstep. This four-mile stretch lined with dunes is one of the few sandy beaches along this coastline, and the place to head with a picnic and a beach towel. Even at busy times it’s possible to find a quiet spot to put up a windbreak (advised – it can get very blowy). The Kitesurf Centre and Rye Water Sports offer kitesurfing and paddleboarding lessons.

Day three Head out to Romney Marsh and explore its 14 medieval churches, rising in splendid isolation from the flat land. Built by lords of the manor to serve now-vanished communities, and also as a display of wealth, most are open to visitors. Don’t miss St Thomas à Becket at Fairfield, which has appeared in various TV programmes, including Great Expectations. End the day in an open-sided carriage of a one-third size steam locomotive on the Romney, Hythe & Dymchurch Railway. Buy a return ticket and hop on at nearby Dungeness for a sweet little chug along the coast to Hythe and back (rover ticket £18.60 adult, £9.30 child, less for shorter journeys).

A steam train at Dungeness on the Romney, Hythe & Dymchurch Railway. Photograph: Steven Town/Alamy

Day four Walk to Rye Harbour Nature Reserve – a land of gravel pits, lagoons, marsh and shingle. An important conservation site, you could spot avocets nesting in the saltmarsh or marsh harriers hunting in the reedbeds. Walk to a bird hide along wooden boardwalks (look out for yellow horned-poppies, sea kale and sea campion in the shingle along the way) and wait. The Avocet Gallery in Rye Harbour village serves tea and cake (Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays) and showcases (and sells) the work of top-quality local artists, designers and makers.

Day five Go for a beachcomber’s lunch at The Gallivant and tuck into local specialities like saltmarsh lamb and fish from the Hastings fleet (but don’t bring young children – this hotel/restaurant next to Camber Sands welcomes over-10s only). Head up the hill and enter Winchelsea through one of its medieval gates. Now a quietly delightful town perched high on a ridge a mile inland, it was once an important port and the centre of the wine trade. Book a guided tour around its vaulted cellars – a great rainy-day option – to get a taste of the town’s medieval past.

Stay Seashells (sleeps five, from £1,150 to £1,400 a week) is a new, light and airy beach house on Camber Sands with a large gated garden. The same owner rents out Pebbles Beach House (sleeps five, £1,299 a week high season, £165 a night low season – two-night minimum), an airy, shabby-chic wooden bolthole on the shingle at Winchelsea Beach.

Isle of Portland, Weymouth and Chesil Beach, Dorset

Rock the boat … Jurassic Coast trips leave from Weymouth harbour. Photograph: fotoVoyager/Getty Images

The Isle of Portland isn’t actually an island – it’s a chunk of limestone tethered to the mainland by the shingle tombolo that is Chesil Beach – but it still feels apart from the mainland, and the rest of the Jurassic Coast.

Day one Take a look around the scattered settlements of Portland, keeping an eye open for buildings built from Portland stone. Drop by Tout Quarry nature reserve and sculpture park, where much of the stone was quarried (and ended up in Buckingham Palace and St Paul’s Cathedral, among other places) and which now has 60 hidden sculptures to discover along meandering paths. The Portland Museum, a community project founded by birth-control pioneer Marie Stopes and housed in two thatched cottages, is a good place to learn more. It was also the inspiration for the heroine’s cottage in Thomas Hardy’s The Well-Beloved.

Day two Continue explorations by venturing to Portland Bill, which overlooks the roiling waves of Portland Race. This whirl of tides and currents, combined with the Shambles sandbank, is why this rocky promontory has three lighthouses. Climb up the automated candy-striped one to understand the nature of the ship-wrecking waters that surround it. Drop in at the visitor centre, once the home of the lighthouse keepers, and learn more with the help of interactive displays, then feast on crab sandwiches at The Lobster Pot next door.

Day three Head along Chesil Beach to Abbotsbury. Chesil Beach runs beyond the pretty, thatched village of Abbotsbury, parallel to the coast to West Bay, framing Fleet Lagoon. This brackish lake is home to the 600 mute swans at the Swannery at Abbotsbury. Help to feed them at noon and 4pm daily, then sample Abbotsbury mackerel and other sustainably sourced fish at the Taste Café in the Chesil Beach visitor centre, which has views over the lagoon and beach.

Neck it down … feeding time at Abbotsbury’s swan sanctuary. Photograph: Paul Springett/Alamy

Day four Get out on to the water at Weymouth and Portland National Sailing Academy in Portland Harbour, which hosted the sailing events at the 2012 Olympics and is now a centre of sailing excellence. The RYA-accredited Andrew Simpson Centre offers sailing taster sessions for £20 an hour. There are also plenty of other opportunities locally to snorkel, canoe, swim, scuba dive to shipwrecks, and fish. Head into Weymouth and refuel with fish and chips at The Old Harbour restaurant, followed by a game of whack-a-mole in the amusement arcade on the beach for the full-on seaside experience.

Day five Visit the labyrinthine Northe Fort at the mouth of Weymouth harbour, which was built in 1872 to defend the Portland naval base from Napoleon III. Now a visitor attraction, it also has a reputation as a haunted site. Alternatively, hop aboard a wooden second world war naval boat and let a bewhiskered skipper take you on a 1½-hour trip along the Jurassic Coast. Boats leave from Weymouth harbour (£14). On the way back to base, stop for a drink at the Cove House Inn – sit outside and enjoy the sight of Chesil Beach stretching out before you.

Stay The Old Higher Lighthouse cottages (each sleeps four, from £450 to £1,000 a week) on Portland Bill, have the sea views you’d expect from a lighthouse plus shared use of a pool and hot tub. Alternatively, 50 Ocean Views (sleeps four, from £490 to £1,154 a week) is a smart contemporary apartment with a private terrace and sea views.

Helford estuary, Cornwall

Up chic creek … the life aquatic in full swing on the River Helford. Photograph: James Osmond/Getty Images

The cool, wooded creeks and tucked-away coves of the River Helford are a welcome escape from the busy beaches and bustle of nearby Falmouth. It’s all about the life aquatic here, whether it’s watching small boats and yachts from the footpath or the terrace of an agreeable pub, or taking to the water in a kayak.

Day one Sink a pint on the terrace outside The Ferryboat Inn at Helford Passage. This popular pub sits beside the river above a beach, and is a good viewpoint for gazing over the estuary and watching small boats bob about. The menu changes daily and includes pub food classics and inventive fish dishes (mackerel tacos, seabass linguine). It’s a prime position for watching the Helford Passage Regatta (10 August) and is also the place to catch the ferry across the river to Helford, see below, and to pick up the South West Coast Path.

Day two The lush vegetation and the cherry laurel maze at the National Trust’s Glendurgan Garden near the village of Durgan is a wonderful place to get lost in. Extending over both sides of a steep valley, the garden is planted with exotic species like Mexican cypress, Japanese loquat and mimosa. Giant gunnera erupt jungle-like in the lower valley. The maze is waist high, so it’s possible to signal for help from others caught in its coils. A stroll to the bottom of the valley leads to Durgan on the water’s edge, where the sandy beach is a good place to sit and eat a sandwich as others go rockpooling.

Day three Paddle through the creeks and coves of the River Helford. Slipping quietly through the water in a small boat is the best way to get to know the river and its forested valleys, witness its wildlife close up, explore the inlets that probe inland, and pull up at one of its quieter beaches and go for a dip. St Anthony Sailaway on Gillan Creek at the entrance of the river hires out single and double kayaks and rowing boats for £13-15 an hour. Koru Kayaking runs guided two-hour kayaking adventures for £40, setting off from the private beach at Budock Vean Hotel.

Visitors can rent kayaks at Helford. Photograph: Ian Woolcock/Alamy

Day four Visit convalescing seals in Gweek. Started when Ken Jones rescued a baby seal washed up on the beach in 1958, the Cornish Seal Sanctuary now has five pools and a hospital where it cares for orphaned, sick or injured animals – not just seals: otters, goats, ponies and penguins are all looked after here. Once recovered, most seals are returned to the sea: those that wouldn’t survive, stay on as “guests”.

Day five The shortish (three-mile) circular walk from Helford village and taking in Frenchman’s Creek is idyllic. Walkers will see the little ferry sailing to Helford Passage on the other side of the river with its cargo of hikers and holidaymakers (no cars). The path then passes the Shipwright’s Arms (where children can crab off the slip, and which holds an annual regatta), to the tiny chapel of St Francis at Pengwedhen, past Kestle Barton, the new Rural Centre for Contemporary Arts in a restored ancient farmstead, and along the wooded and fern-lined Frenchman’s Creek, made famous by Daphne du Maurier’s classic book, before returning to Helford. It’s worth tarrying to wander around the village’s thatched cottages and boathouses.

Stay Kestle Cottage (sleeps four, from £395 to £1,295 a week), near Frenchman’s Creek, is one of several holiday homes in recently converted farm buildings. Creek View (sleeps four, £317 to £939 a week) is an apartment above Helford Village Stores with a gorgeous view over the estuary. Bosvathick House B&B (doubles £110 a night, singles £70)is a grand private home in Constantine, a short drive from the estuary, with stately rooms, a laurel maze and rolling grounds (gardens open in peak season).

Ards peninsula, County Down

Down town … Portaferry’s marina at the entrance to Strangford Lough. Photograph: David Lyons/Alamy

The Ards peninsula wraps around Strangford Lough enclosing it from the Irish Sea. The shoreline is never far away, be it the sandy beaches of the east coast, or the shingle banks surrounding the Lough.

Day one Stock up on locally produced food and craft at the monthly market, held in Portaferry’s restored market house (first Saturday of the month, 10am-1.30pm). Portaferry sits at the southern end of the peninsula near the Narrows – the turbulent channel linking Strangford Lough to the Irish Sea – and is where to catch the ferry to the other side of the Lough. Sit outside the Portaferry Hotel with a coffee and wait for the ferry to arrive, or duck inside to eat seafood dishes, including bouillabaisse and lobster.

Day two Make your way three miles up the road from Portaferry to Kearney, a former fishing village restored in vernacular style by the National Trust. Now fully occupied, the simple whitewashed cottages tucked between drumlins (hillocks) and the sea, present a sanitised but appealing impression of what life was like in a 19th-century fishing village. In one cottage lived Mary Ann Doonan, captain of the so-called “she-cruiser”, a ship crewed entirely by women, and something of a local legend. The sandy beach of Knockinelder is close by and is a lovely spot for a dip.

Day three Hire a canoe and explore one of Strangford Lough’s 100-plus islands, many of them rich in seabirds and other wildlife; you may even spot seals and otters as you go. Outdoor Recreation NI, which manages and promotes outdoor activities in Northern Ireland, has devised a series of canoe trails, which can be found, along with a list of canoe providers, at canoeni.com. One canoe trail leads to Salt Island, where you can stay overnight in a bothy – it has a woodburner and a flushing toilet but no cooker (sleeps 10, £10pp sharing, £80 for exclusive use).

The view from restaurant Daft Eddy’s. Photograph: Carrie Davenport

Day four Drive around to the other side of Strangford Lough to the Castle Epsie Wetland Centre (which is just 12 miles south-east of Belfast). Blending with the shoreline of the Lough, its 25 hectares of tidal lagoons, salt marsh, woodland and reed beds are home to countless birds, bats and insects, and a stopping-off point for migrating brent geese. Watch the avian comings and goings from one of the hides, or walk among ducks, ducklings and geese in the duckery. On the way back, stop off at Daft Eddy’s, a smart modern restaurant by the side of the Lough, for Portavogie scampi and a pint of Guinness.

Day five Visit Grey Abbey House and Gardens in Newtownards to inspect a fine example of a big old Irish Georgian house. Located on the side of the Lough, the grounds have a walled and vegetable gardens, and two orchards of Victorian fruit trees and Irish apple trees. The expansive estate includes a lake and ancient woodland inhabited by red squirrels. Close by are the ruins of a Norman Cistercian priory, dissolved by Henry VIII. Up the road is Harrisons of Grey Abbey, a nursery, farm shop and popular restaurant.

Stay Cowey Cottage (sleeps four, from £395 to £550 a week) in Newtownards is a stone cottage with a woodburner, comfortable leather sofas and a flagstone floor, deep in rolling farmland but a short drive to the Lough. Castle Ward Caravan Park, in the grounds of the Castle Ward estate on the shores of Strangford Lough, has 10 pitches for tents (from £18.50), plus wooden camping pods (sleep two to five, from £42 to £67), and 25 hard stands for caravans/motor homes (from £22). For caravans and tents, add £2 per additional adult, £1 per child and £2 per additional car.

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taahlitrinidad-blog · 6 years

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Five nonfiction books

Scientific fact meets island folklore as Hans Boos presents more than sixty species of snakes found in the twin-island independent Caribbean nation of Trinidad and Tobago. The culmination of thirty years of collecting and observing the snakes of these islands, The Snakes of Trinidad and Tobago engagingly informs readers about these often feared and misunderstood creatures. Tracing the contributions of scientists to the evolving taxonomy of the islands' reptiles, Boos describes each unique species of snake found on the two islands, including local names from two centuries back. Species accounts come complete with tales—both documented and apocryphal—of human encounters with the more dangerous island snakes. Forty-eight color photographs and fifty black-and-white photographs and pieces of line art, most by the author, illustrate the text and aid in identification. (Amazon)

Five interesting nonfiction books from Trinidad, Barbados, and Antigua

“A Small Place” A Small Place is divided into four loosely structured, untitled sections. The first section begins with Kincaid’s narration of the reader’s experiences and thoughts as a hypothetical tourist in Antigua. The reader, through Kincaid’s description, witnesses the great natural beauty of the island, while being sheltered from the harsher realities of the lives of those who must live there. Kincaid weaves into her narrative the sort of information that only an “insider” would know, such as the reason why the majority of the automobiles on the island are poorly running, expensive Japanese cars. Included in her guided tour are brief views of the mansions on the island, mostly gained through corruption or outright criminality. She also mentions the now-dilapidated library, still awaiting repairs after an earthquake ten years earlier. The tour continues at the hotel, and Kincaid concludes the section with a discussion of her view of the moral ugliness of being a tourist.(spark notes)

“Annie John”

Annie John traces Annie's experiences growing up on the island of Antigua under the strict and watchful eyes of her mother. When the book begins, Annie loves and adores her mother like no other. But, this is no ordinary love mind you. It's soul crushing, agonizing infatuation, obsession and enchantment all rolled up into one big love fest. From Annie's ten-year-old point of view, no one matches her mother in beauty and wisdom.

“My brother”

Jamaica Kincaid's brother Devon Drew died of AIDS on January 19, 1996, at the age of thirty-three. Kincaid's incantatory, poetic, and often shockingly frank recounting of her brother's life and death is also a story of her family on the island of Antigua, a constellation centered on the powerful, sometimes threatening figure of the writer's mother. My Brother is an unblinking record of a life that ended too early, and it speaks volumes about the difficult truths at the heart of all families.

“The Birds of Trinidad and Tobago”

Trinidad and Tobago, tropical islands on the continental shelf of northeastern South America, enjoy a rich diversity of bird species, including visitors from the nearby mainland and others traveling the migratory flyway from North America. This compact, portable field guide is designed to provide birders and ornithologists with all the up-to-date information they need to identify birds in the field. The book features color illustrations and descriptions of almost 470 different species—every species known to occur naturally in Trinidad or Tobago as well as those successfully introduced there.

(spark notes)

“The Snakes of Trinidad and Tobago”

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adambstingus · 6 years

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My secret hideaway: foreign correspondents reveal all

Foreign correspondents know how to get under the skin of a country. But where do they go when they want to get away from it all? Here, well-travelled journalists reveal their ultimate holiday escapes

Afua Hirsch on São Tomé e Principe, Africa

At first I felt critical of the many Africans I spoke to who had never heard of São Tomé e Principe. It is after all an African country, albeit one of the smallest (population 194,000) and remotest an archipelago of tiny islands nestled in the watery armpit of west and central Africa, deep in the Atlantic, with Gabon to the east and Nigeria to the north.

Then I realised how difficult it was to get there. Back then, in 2002, there was one flight a week from Gabon, and one from Lisbon which ferried the children of Portuguese aristocrats to secretive resorts in pristine bays at the foot of volcanos carpeted in the countrys endless virgin rainforest.

I had graduated from university just months before and in my shiny new NGO job chose São Tomé as the location for an international conference I was organising. But getting hundreds of dignitaries there meant chartering planes, training hotel staff and even having new phone cables laid. I arrived exhausted. My VIP guests were in a strop, not because the plane Id chartered looked ripe for the scrap heap, but because it had no business class seats. I was not in the mood to fall in love.

But I did. Id never seen volcanoes so alive with forest or the Atlantic such a seductive, sleepy blue. Ive never felt so close to a history I thought much older no African language is spoken in São Tomé, but, rather a creole version of Portuguese. The inhabitants are all descended from slaves, Portuguese outcasts and Jewish children dumped on the islands hundreds of years ago.

People lived in the ruins of decayed colonial palaces as if the plantation had collapsed the day before. It felt separated at birth from another part of the world the Caribbean or South America with its palatial palms and crumbling façades, ridgeback mountains and Portuguese towns.

But its Africa all right. Billions of barrels of oil have achieved what natural beauty and human charm never did and placed it firmly on the map. The oil workers have been streaming in since São Tomé and I had our first encounter: I hope people seeking Africas greatest beauty will, too.

Fly to São Tomé e Principe from London via Lisbon with TAP Portugal from £457 (flytap.com). Stay at Omali Lodge, doubles from £106 (omalilodge.com) Afua Hirsch is the former West Africa correspondent for the Guardian

Lyse Doucet on New Brunswick, Canada

Good old times: the Acadian historic village of Caraquet in New Brunswick, Canada. Photograph: Philippe Renault/Hemis/Corbis

Ive heard it time and time again. New Brunswick? Oh, I drove through it to get to Nova Scotia. Acadians? Hmm Cajuns? Oh Cajun cooking Music Louisiana!

But New Brunswick in eastern Canada is much more than a place to drive through. And its northeastern coast will not just delight but enlighten you about a people who survived a British colonial expulsion from here in 1755 and returned to establish a vibrant culture and proud sense of self.

The Acadians are the descendants of the French who colonised the region from the 17th century, and if you visit on 15 August, Acadian national day, youll be loudly reminded of that by the tintamarre. At 17.55, on the dot, people dance in the streets, beating pans and blowing horns, to make as much noise as possible to let the world know theyre still here. A dark day in imperial history, when thousands were forced to flee south including to Louisiana, where the term Acadian became Cajun is now a vibrant celebration of survival.

A drive along the winding shore takes you through a picturesque landscape of simple cottages hugging the coastline and rambling farmhouses set back on rolling green fields (except in the freezing depths of winter, when all is snowy white).

Lobster traps and the Acadian flag are ubiquitous a tricolour to honour French ancestry, with a bright yellow star, representing the Stella Maris, the star of the sea, that guides sailors in storms.

To know even more about this charming corner on the sea, visit the Acadian village, a functioning replica of life through the late 18th to the mid-20th centuries. Inside the original wooden houses of the first Acadian families they are carrying on with daily chores, but are never too busy to warmly welcome visitors.

History comes alive in the evening at the elegant LHôtel Château Albert, where you can tuck into an old- fashioned meal while being entertained by a trio of traditional fiddlers. On my last visit there, a female fiddler recounted how she had to practise in secret as a young girl. Fiddling was only for men then.

And do drop by the Doucet farm in the historical village, where you may find them baking bread.

Fly to Moncton from London via Toronto or Montreal with Air Canada from £532 (aircanada.com). Stay at LHôtel Château Albert, doubles from £70 (villagehistoriqueacadien.com) Lyse Doucet is the BBCs chief international correspondent

Ed Vulliamy on Sfântu Gheorghe, Romania

Rowing home: fisherman on the Danube. Photograph: Alamy

The Sfântu Gheorghe arm of the Danube Delta is gratifyingly hard to reach: by ferry from the river port of Mahmudia, which departs between two and five hours late, laden with essential goods that folk in Sfântu Gheorghe on the Black Sea shore cannot buy in their village shop. The boat navigates bends in Europes mightiest river, past oxbow lakes and through newly dug channels. A small crowd makes its way through the mud to the jetty with donkeys to collect the shopping.

There are two cars in Sfântu Gheorghe: one belongs to the policeman, the other to the government environmental officer. During my first visit in 1995, they had crashed and were being repaired.

I frequent Sfântu Gheorghe thanks to an ornithologist friend from Bucharest. His metier along with caviar from local sturgeon is the ostensible reason to be there: a wonder of eagles, egrets, vultures, cranes, ibises, cormorants and pelicans. Fishermen weigh their wares on iron scales in a market that has not changed for centuries. They say that when the sea howls it means a life lost in revenge for mans abuse of the oceans. Sure enough, last time it howled, the bodies of a father and son washed ashore.

One day the ornithologist took me out on the river in his little boat. And there it was: the howl, a heart-stopping scream, and the river heaved. The ornithologists jovial face was suddenly terrified and intense as he gripped the outboard motor to carve a way through the current and driving rain. After 50 minutes of thinking that any of them could be my last, we made it to the bank.

On the night they return, the fishermen gather, after a brief visit home, at the only bar in town: a window cut into a brickwork house. Outside which they sit to drink vodka that comes in bottles the size of a standard beer thats the unit per round, and I confess its tough going.

In keeping with the vulgarisation and invasion by tourism of anything authentic in Romania (as everywhere else), there is now a Green Village Resort in Sfântu Gheorghe: some people on TripAdvisor seem to have had horrendous experiences there, which can only be a good thing.

On one final night in Sfântu Gheorghe, the ornithologist and I were supposed to have gone to bed early, to catch the dawn boat back to Mahmudia, but the captain was dancing on the table, drinking vodka, so there didnt seem to be much hurry.

When the ferry did leave, I was as ever sad to leave with it, into the quickening eastern sky and the brave dawn of newly capitalist, tourist-friendly Romania.

Fly to Bucharest from London with Ryanair from £22.99 (ryanair.com). Mahmudia port is roughly four hours drive, then take the ferry to Sfântu Gheorghe. Stay at the Green Village, doubles from £40 (greenvillage.ro) Ed Vulliamy is a writer for the Guardian and Observer and was was New York correspondent for the Observer and Rome correspondent for the Guardian

Kate Connolly on Hiddensee, Germany

Artists escape: a lighthouse at the Dornbusch on Hiddensee island. Photograph: Heinz Wohner/Getty Images

As a hideaway it could hardly be better named. The island of Hiddensee sits on Germanys north-eastern tip and is one of the countrys sunniest, windiest locations. Despite being just under 11 miles long and, at its broadest point, only two miles wide, even in the height of summer it is surprisingly easy to find a spot in the dunes or in its expansive heathland to escape the daytrippers who arrive en masse from neighbouring Rügen. While to English ears at least its name sounds like a clever reference to its remoteness, it is in fact a nod to the legendary Norwegian king, Hedin, who is believed to have fought here. Whether for a love interest or for gold, opinions are divided, but in any case Hedins Oe or Hedins Island as it was named while under Danish rule has more or less stuck.

In the 1920s the Baltic island was a magnet for intellects and artists. The families of writers Thomas and Heinrich Mann, Günter Grass (whose wife was a Hiddenseer), sculptor Käthe Kollwitz and the Freuds were among the regulars, as was Danish film star Asta Nielsen, who had a playful circular holiday home, the karusel. The Freud connection endures to this day thanks to Esther Freuds 2003 novel The Sea House, which recalls the holidays her great-grandfather Sigmund and his family enjoyed on the island before they and many Hiddensee residents were banned by the Nazis. The family found some sort of solace in the village of Walberswick on the Suffolk coast which, with its grassy sand dunes, large skies and a home they called Hidden House, reminded them of the beloved Baltic island they were forced to forsake.

Ive been coming here regularly for more than a decade, and it has never lost its appeal as an ideal place for escape. It is car-free, with no golf courses and, at around six hours by train and ferry from Berlin, close enough for a long weekend. Aside from swimming, walking and biking, there are three bookshops, a theatre, some pubs and a tent cinema. Otherwise theres little more to do than ask locals to teach you how to fish for pieces of amber after a storm, or literally milk the bright-orange buckthorn berries for their vitamin C-rich juice.

It continues to be a draw for writers and artists, too. Lutz Seilers 2014 novel Kruso, which won the German Book Prize (out in English this year), is set in Hiddensee during the heady days before the fall of the Berlin Wall. Its a poetic tribute to the island as well as offering an insight into life here during the East German dictatorship for those wanting to flee to the west (Denmark is hardly more than an energetic swim away) as well as those who simply sought internal exile amid the wind and the waves from the every day strains of the GDR. Hiddensee has never lost its appeal as an ideal place for escape.

Fly to Berlin from London with EasyJet from £29.49 (easyjet.com). Regular trains are 44 from Berlin (bahn.com) to Stralsund, from there take a ferry to Hiddensee (reederei-hiddensee.de). Stay at Hotel Godewind, doubles from £92 (hotelgodewind.de) Kate Connolly is the Guardian and Observers Berlin correspondent

Peter Beaumont on Hosh Jasmin, West Bank

A table with a view: the patio at Hosh Jasmin overlooking the hills. Photograph: Luke Pyenson

The hills just beyond the outskirts of the Palestinian town of Beit Jala Bethlehems other half, though never say that to a native are a special place. Ancient limestone terraces descend towards Battir and the cool valley of Wadi Refaim, with its fig trees and gazelles. Small apricot orchards hem in the old stone farms that dot the slopes. Just outside the town is where you find Hosh Jasmin, an organic farm and restaurant opened in 2012 by filmmaker, sculptor and restaurateur Mazen Saadeh.

Fifteen minutes drive from the western edge of Jerusalem, Hosh Jasmin is both circumscribed by and defies Israels continuing occupation of the West Bank. Located in Area C, under Israeli security and administrative control, it is reached for us at least through the Walajah checkpoint, passing the Israeli settlement of Har Gilo. The Israeli separation wall is visible from Hosh Jasmin in the distance, a snaking line of grey concrete.

Despite the reminders, it is a place to escape for a while from the continuing violence and tensions, popular with Palestinians from the neighbouring town, Jerusalemites and internationals. Visiting on a blue moon last year, a group of musicians had been assembled. The waiters, encouraging us to stay, suggested if everyone was drunk enough a midnight walk would be initiated. Named for the Syrian-style hosh compounds, tables are set on rough-hewn wooden platforms under the trees, areas designed for sprawling on cushions, although there is a small indoor area for when it rains and a fire pit for the winter chill of the Jerusalem hills. Elsewhere there are hammocks and swing seats.

Below is Saadehs farm, including olives that Hosh Jasmin presses for oil, fruit trees, hives and rabbit runs and the restaurants arak distillery. Its location is a double-edged sword. The lack of building permits for Palestinians in Area C has preserved the areas rustic feel, and it also means that the accommodation Saadeh provides for those who stay beyond when the fire burns down is a treehouse and several tents.

This Christmas those of us in the press corps celebrated lunch outdoors with turkey and Palestinian starters and Taybeh, the Palestinian beer. On other days the food is dictated by the seasons, although there are no actual menus. Specialities include rabbit zarb, a tagine-like dish cooked in an underground oven, Palestinian dumplings and chicken musakhan with flatbread in its rich sauce of onions and sumac served on a flat bread.

For me, the best time is the late afternoon and evening, watching the hills bruise purple into night as the fire starts. Then, Hosh Jasmin is a place to forget for a while at least all of the areas troubles.

Fly to Tel Aviv from London with British Airways from £304 return (ba.com). Eat and camp at Hosh Jasmin organic farm (facebook.com/HoshJas; +972(0)599 868 914), which can be reached from Jerusalem by taxi or hire car (europcar.co.uk). You will need your passport to cross the Walajah checkpoint Peter Beaumont is the Guardians Jerusalem correspondent

Emma Graham-Harrison on the Jalori Pass, India

Touching the sky: a distant view of the mountains from the Jalori Pass near Kullu. Photograph: Getty Images

The sound of cymbals, drums and song followed us the whole morning, across hillsides of wild iris and through deodar forests, the musicians hidden and the music sometimes thinning to silence but always returning again when mountain paths brought us and the mysterious band back within earshot.

We met them at last outside a tea shack on the Jalori Pass, more than 3,000m high, villagers escorting a goddess swathed in gold and scarlet to the Dussehra festival in Kullu town, two days walk away.

She would be jostled and photographed there by thousands of tourists, but we met her almost alone, our paths crossing at just the right moment.

It seemed like serendipity but our guide, Prem Singh Bodh, had known more or less when the group would arrive, after decades hiking trails in this corner of north India.

Friends got to know him while living in Delhi, and had invited me to join them on a 10-day trip to an area that is little visited by tourists, but full of life and natural beauty.

We met pilgrims at ruined hilltop forts that have become windswept temples. Kids raced up to one campsite from the nearest village and convinced us to lose a game of cricket on an impossible slope.

Their teacher was a postgraduate with a taste for Victorian literature Thackeray, Kipling, Dickens who grew up the other side of a nearby peak. We asked why he turned down the chance of a more lucrative city life after graduating. I missed these mountains, he said simply.

Between those meetings, we had the forests, fields and temples to ourselves for hours at a time. We slept in tents on high meadows beside a woodland lake and spent a couple of nights in spartan but charming lodges built for colonial administrators more than a century ago.

We were camping, but it felt luxurious, with air mattresses, ponies to carry gear so we travelled with just a small day pack, and even a cook.

A few bars of coverage would occasionally appear on the phones of people trying to keep in touch with home. But most of us were happy to be out of contact and suspended in time.

It was often surprising, always beautiful and entirely special, and because we arranged the trip directly with Bodhs company, Zingaro, it was a relatively affordable £50 per person per day including tents and lodges, food and guides. We spent nothing else because there was nothing we needed and nothing to buy. Zingaro also arranges trips to higher altitude areas, for those seeking an even more remote getaway.

Fly to Dharamsala (aka Kangra or Gaggal) from London via Delhi with Air India from £495 (airindia.in). Zingaro treks can organise treks across northern India (zingarotreks.com). Ask Zingaro for advice, but they will usually meet you with a 4×4 or minibus at the edge of the mountains Emma Graham-Harrison is international affairs correspondent for the Guardian and Observer and was Afghanistan bureau chief for Thomson Reuters

Matilda Temperley on Kaokoland, Namibia

Under African skies: a young Himba woman. Photograph: Matilda Temperley

Five hundred miles north-east of Windhoek, the dusty town of Opuwo is nestled into the edge of Kaokolands arid hills. The local inhabitants are bare-breasted, clad in goatskin and covered in ochre. These are the Himba. They live alongside Herero women wearing dresses reminiscent of 19th-century German colonialists with hats shaped to resemble cow horns. Unusual characters arrive in this small trading hub to replenish their supplies at the areas only garage and supermarket before disappearing back into the surrounding desert.

Opuwo is the entrance to the remarkable Kaokoland that lies to the east. This is an area so empty and vast you can drive for days without seeing another soul. I picked up a local guide in Opuwo and set off in the 4×4 (complete with camping gear and roof tents) I had rented in Windhoek. Within an hour, a sandy riverbed stalled our progress and throughout the day the roads became ever more dubious. It doesnt take long until you are obliged to stop being precious about your vehicle and surrender to the inevitable punctures, scrapes and scratches and the hundreds of kilometres of unknown terrain that stretch before you. As you drive, red rocks give way to white deserts, plains become mountains and colours evolve with the day.

After two days of driving, we came across the first sign of human habitation and were surprised to see a rusty petrol drum on a rocky outcrop with signs advertising cold drinks and fuel. It turned out the attendant Himba women had nothing to sell and were rather hoping we could give them some food. It was undoubtedly the oddest petrol station Ive ever seen. The occasional villages we then passed were welcoming, perhaps because the Himbas ancestral land rights and autonomy are well recognised and the increasing cultural tourism in the area is largely on their terms.

When I visited last February, the villages were mainly populated with women and children as the men were with the herds looking for pasture. The villages were full of laughter, most of which was at my expense. The fact that I was childless at 33 never failed to cause mirth. In the first village I camped in, I was given a live chicken that they insisted I leave with. At the next village, I was made to dance out stories. There was something magical in being innocently teased in this matriarchal society.

Kaokoland stretches for many hundreds of kilometres from the Hoanib river north to the Kunene river, which is the border with Angola, and one of the least-populated places on earth. In Kaokoland, you cannot fail to marvel at your insignificance. Kaokoland stole my heart on my first foray and I have been looking for an excuse to return ever since.

Fly to Windhoek from London with South African Airways from £615 (flysaa.com). Car rentals from Camping Car Hire (camping-carhire.com). A 4×4 with full camping equipment is available from £45 a day Matilda Temperley is a photographer and writer

Helena Smith on Koufonisia, Greece

Open water: an empty beach on the islands of Koufonisia. Photograph: Alamy

Greece has always been about the light. The shadows lie in its luminosity. For years I have tried to swim into the sun, a days fading rays made sweeter still by waters brush. The quest for light can take you places that you might otherwise never know; beaches you might never see. In the summer of 1984, on a whim propelled by adventure, I holidayed on Naxos, crossed it by bike and got into a little cargo ship that took me to a place that at the time seemed so ethereal, so elemental, so remote, it has remained with me ever since.

That place was Koufonisia, an isle made up of parts upper Koufonisi and lower Koufonisi and over the course of a spring and summer I would come to know both. Before the internet, before mass travel, before Greeks got fat on EU funds, upper Koufonisi had a smattering of white, flat-roofed houses, one fish tavern, one meat tavern, one tourist (a French painter), one road and a girdle of virgin beaches, ornamented by turquoise sea. In the spring its was carpeted with poppies just as Naxos to its west and Amorgos to its east; and in summer covered by herbs carried on a breeze. But although perfect, it was to be trumped by the discovery of lower Koufonisi: uninhabited (bar the odd shepherd), with even bluer seas, better shorelines and a pure light that I swam into with the passing of each day.

Several years later I returned to upper Koufonisi, this time making my home a rented villa looking out to sea on the isles southern extremity. The water was aquamarine, as seductively translucent as it had been all those summers ago, but it was a world away a world discovered by Greeks who had built second homes, Italians who went for the tourist season and beach bars that served cocktails to the dulcet tones of Icelandic composers.

Lower Koufonisi had changed, too: its cave no more (thanks to a landslide), its beaches the preserve of the droves who descended from fishing boats now busily crossing the 200m channel that separated the isle from upper Koufonisi. But the light was still there, the sky and sea co-joined by a brilliance that was unbeatable and blue. And, as I had done all those years before, I swam into the sun at the end of the day, backstroking through the flat blue, eyes fixed on the brilliant skies and the rocks they framed, knowing I had arrived where I had begun, in the magic of Greece.

Fly to Athens from London with British Airways from £104 (ba.com). Blue Star Ferries on the (Athens) Piraeus Amorgos route stop at Koufonisia three times a week (euroferries.com). Sea jets also makes the trip in summer (seajets.gr). Travellers passing through Athens can also book tickets through Grecian travel (grecian.gr) Helena Smith is the Guardians correspondent in Greece, Turkey and Cyprus

Stephen Gibbs on Playa Bacunayagua, Cuba

Crossing the divide: the Puente de Bacunayagua, completed in 1959, takes you to the beaches of Bacunayagua. Photograph: Buena Vista Images/Getty Images

Go to that bar that serves the piña coladas, cross the bridge, then the road to Bacunayagua is on the left. Those were typical driving directions in Cuba in the early 2000s. Then, it was a country without road signs. The reason was never clear. One theory was that every time a sign was put up it was stolen so that its metal could be turned into car parts. Another was that Fidel Castro, determined that the nation remain on a constant military footing, was convinced that road signage would help invaders. It made travelling a challenge. And arriving especially rewarding.

The directions were good enough the first time I went to Bacunayagua in 2005. There were three of us: two Cuban friends, one of whom was a scuba dive instructor, and me. The piña colada stop was memorable. Alongside the road Marco, in a crisp white guayabera shirt, prepared cocktails for thirsty motorists from palm-fresh coconuts, cream and pineapple. He agreed, reluctantly, to go easy on the rum.

After that we crossed the spectacular Puente de Bacunayagua, the tallest bridge in Cuba, completed in 1959. A couple of kilometres later, almost hidden by trees, there on the left was an unmarked, steep concrete road. It dived through a forest towards the sea, bringing us to a complex of run-down 1970s bungalows. In front was the clearest water, framed by an elegant peninsula, and a perfect little hidden beach.

This particular stretch of coastline was also a notorious pick-up point for the cigarette boats that come from Florida and smuggle Cubans back to the US. A few bored young soldiers were there on watch; they were surprised to see us. The offer of a cold drink turned their frowns into smiles. They kept an eye on the car while we explored the pristine waters below.

I returned to Bacunayagua a few weeks ago. A gleaming blue sign now clearly marks that turnoff to the bay. It is as beautiful as ever, but a little noisier. A Cuban family, complete with relatives from Miami, had rented the house the military once occupied. Silence has been replaced by reggaeton.

On the way back to Havana, I stopped at the roadside bar. Marco was still there. Estás perdido, he said to me. That delightful Cuban greeting perhaps best translated as: Where have you been?, offered with equal feeling whether someone hasnt been seen for a few days or a few years. Cuba may be changing, but it still moves at its own pace.

Fly to Havana from London with Virgin Atlantic from £559 (virginatlantic.com). Hire a car using the concierge at one of the bigger hotels, or contact Cuba Diving Now (cubadivingnow.com) to be guided Stephen Gibbs covers Venezuela for Chinese TV and The Economist

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/my-secret-hideaway-foreign-correspondents-reveal-all/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/173213707402

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