
Booming tourism and climate change threaten Albania's coast
From Velipoja in the north where the waves are swallowing a century-old forest, to the tourist hotspot of Golem where galloping construction of hotels and restaurants is accelerating erosion, the country's often spectacular
is under threat.
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"Out of Albania's 273 kilometres (169 miles) of coastline some 154 are affected by erosion," urban planning specialist Besjana Shehu told AFP.
Tourism in the Balkan nation is booming, from 5.1 million visitors in 2018 to 10.1 million in 2023. But new hotels, restaurants and beach bars are also taking their toll on nature.
Rising sea level due to climate change is further complicating the situation.
In Velipoja, a protected area close to the border with Montenegro, the sea is advancing more than five metres a year.
It has already eaten 210 metres into the coastal forest, threatening an entire ecosystem that cannot live in salt water.
Dozens of pine trunks lie strewn on the sand, many uprooted by violent storms late last month.
"Velipoja Park is shrinking," warned Agim Dardha, head of the protected areas agency for the Shkodra region.
"In the past 10 years alone it has lost more than 30 hectares (74 acres)," he said.
Death of an island
Franz Jozeph island at the mouth of the nearby Buna River still figures on the maps and tourist guides.
But it actually vanished in 2012 after being swallowed by the sea.
Named by Austrian cartographers in 1870 after Emperor Franz Joseph I, the island was made up of rich alluvial soil.
Located only 150 metres from the coast, its 19.5 hectares were covered with trees and wild vegetation.
"A paradise for many species of seabirds, a haven of peace for us too... it is totally gone," lamented Lule Coli, who runs a small beach bar nearby.
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But the construction of dams and hydroelectric power plants in the area hastened its death, said Ervis Krymi, geography professor at the Shkodra University.
In Kune, a few kilometres further south, locals are also worried.
There are more big storms every year and the shore now looks like a tree graveyard.
"As a result of climate change in recent years, the sea has become very aggressive, advancing towards the land at a frantic pace that exceeds all forecasts," said Jak Gjini, an environment expert.
In some areas it is pushing 20 metres inland every year, he added.
Flooding
Communist-era bunkers built along the coast in the 1970s have disappeared under the waves.
But the storms also took small seaside bars run by locals. The force of the sea was so strong the sandbag barriers they put up were useless.
"There used to be two bunkers here. Now they're submerged," said Vera Faslliaj, who runs a small restaurant called Poseidon, named after the Greek god of the sea.
"The sea is coming and will take everything... in four or five years there won't be anything left here," she added.
Albanian authorities say that rising sea levels pose severe flood risks to many of the country's urban areas.
By the end of the decade more than a third of coastal areas will suffer direct consequences of flooding, according to the national civil protection agency.
In Golem, just south of the resort city of Durres, hotel owners are worried about the authorities' seeming indifference to finding solutions and curbing uncontrolled building along the coast.
"The sea cannot wait for the authorities to wake up," hotel administrator Edvin Dule said.
Around 70 metres of Golem's beach has been lost in the past 16 years.
Hotels springing up like mushrooms have further exacerbated the erosion and are shrinking the beaches on which they depend to attract tourists, locals say.
"It's a very worrying phenomenon that directly impacts the economy and tourism," Dule said.
"If we cannot offer what tourists expect -- umbrellas, deckchairs and activities on the sand -- we reduce the quality of what we offer, which will translate into lower visitor numbers."

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India.com
15 hours ago
- India.com
6 Hidden Picnic Gems In Delhi That'll Make Your Sundays Insta-Worthy
Delhi is not just a city of monuments and a city of pauses. Of hidden green lungs. Of wide-open lawns where conversations stretch longer than time, and laughter feels unhurried. Most tourists rush to India Gate or the Red Fort. But what if we told you—Delhi's real leisure lies elsewhere? Not in crowded markets or polished malls, but under the shade of century-old trees, beside still lakes, and on quiet stretches of grass where families, friends, and dreamers come together for something timeless: a picnic. Let's step into Delhi's softer side—the one that hums quietly beneath the chaos, waiting for you with a mat, a basket, and a sky wide enough for every story. Why Picnic in Delhi? Because here, contrast is the real magic. Delhi is both a capital of power and a keeper of stillness. Skyscrapers touch the horizon, yet gardens stretch beneath them like secret carpets. In between office towers and historic forts, you'll find spaces where time refuses to rush. Unlike hill stations that demand a road trip, or coastal towns that ask for a holiday plan, Delhi's picnic spots live right next to you. They're accessible, vast, and forgiving. A place where you can leave the week behind, even if just for a few hours. This is not just about leisure. It's about reclaiming balance. For families. For couples. For solo wanderers. And for a city that often forgets it can breathe. Tired of malls and monuments? These picnic spots are waiting for you 1. Lodhi Garden : The City's Timeless Backyard History doesn't have to feel heavy. In Lodhi Garden, it feels over 90 acres, this garden is where Mughal-era tombs rise gracefully among flowering beds, jogging trails, and wide lawns. Families spread blankets under peepal trees. Friends play frisbee. Elderly couples sip chai while pigeons scatter around domes older than memory. Come here with a basket of sandwiches, or just with a book. The garden doesn't demand much—just your presence. And in return, it gives you perspective: life, like the tombs here, can be grand and simple at once. 2. India Gate Lawns : Where the City Comes Together Yes, it's iconic. Yes, it's busy. But sometimes, the obvious is worth lawns around India Gate are not just picnic grounds; they're a slice of collective memory. Children run with balloons. Families unpack home-cooked parathas. Street vendors float by with roasted corn and ice cream. In the evening, as the monument lights up, there's a festive charm in the air. Not private. Not secluded. But deeply human. If Lodhi Garden is for introspection, India Gate lawns are for celebration. Bring along cricket bats, gossip, and a willingness to share space. Because here, you're not just having a picnic. You're part of Delhi itself. 3. Garden of Five Senses : Where Leisure Turns into Art Not all gardens are about lawns and benches. Some are about Garden of Five Senses, tucked in Saidul Ajaib near Saket, was designed to awaken—quite literally—all your senses. Pathways curve around sculptures. Fountains break into gentle applause. Fragrant plants line the trails, while amphitheatre-like spaces often host cultural shows. For a picnic, this means more than food and chatter. It's about discovery. Pack light, because this garden isn't about lying still—it's about walking, observing, pausing, and realizing that leisure can be artful. 4. Deer Park : The Wild Heart of South Delhi Think of it as Delhi's version of a secret in Hauz Khas, Deer Park stretches across meadows, water bodies, and trails where peacocks call and deer move quietly through the trees. Joggers and college kids know it well, but for picnickers, it's paradise. You can spread a mat under gulmohar trees, share a quiet meal, and then wander into the ruins of Hauz Khas fort nearby. The lake, reflecting the sky and heritage walls, is a picnic backdrop few cities can boast. Deer Park is not manicured luxury. It's raw. Free. Alive. The kind of space where a simple picnic feels like an escape into the wild—without leaving the city. 5. Nehru Park : The Diplomatic Enclave's Green Gem In Chanakyapuri, surrounded by embassies and wide roads, lies Nehru Park—a perfectly balanced blend of manicured beauty and free spirit. Sprawling lawns welcome yoga practitioners in the morning, music lovers in the evening, and picnickers all day long. It's not unusual to find classical concerts or art festivals happening here, adding an extra layer of charm to your outing. For families, it's the open space. For couples, it's the quiet corners. For solo visitors, it's the rhythm of a city taking a breath. Nehru Park is versatile, just like Delhi itself. 6. Yamuna Biodiversity Park : Where Nature Writes Its Own Script If you crave something different—something more than just lawns and monuments—head north to Yamuna Biodiversity Park. Here, wetlands, grasslands, and woodlands come alive with migratory birds, butterflies, and native plants. This isn't just a picnic spot—it's an education in disguise. Spread a mat near the water, watch painted storks take flight, and listen as the city noise fades into the hum of insects and wind. It's perfect for families with children, or anyone who wants their leisure to feel meaningful. Because here, a picnic isn't just fun. It's a way of reconnecting with Delhi's natural soul. Why Picnics, and Why Now? Because in a city that's always moving, stillness is rebellion. Picnics remind us to slow down. To cook instead of order. To talk instead of scroll. To notice the way light falls on grass, or how the sound of laughter carries across a park. Delhi, often called chaotic, reveals its tenderness in these spaces. And when you claim them, even for a day, you carry that tenderness back into the week. Practical Tips: How to Picnic Like a Local Pack Smart, Pack LightThink fruits, sandwiches, reusable bottles, and a mat. Skip heavy meals. A picnic is about ease, not feasts. Arrive EarlyMornings are fresh, less crowded, and ideal for photos. Plus, Delhi afternoons can be harsh. Respect the SpaceCarry trash bags. Leave the park cleaner than you found it. Mix ActivitiesBring a book. A guitar. A kite. Or just stories. Picnics are about what you do together, not just what you eat. Stay OpenStreet vendors, cultural shows, or spontaneous conversations with strangers can add charm. Don't plan too tightly. Beyond Leisure: Why These Spots Matter It's not just about green escapes. It's about balance. When you picnic in Delhi's open spaces: You ease the burden on overcrowded malls and eateries. You support local vendors—chaiwallahs, balloon sellers, ice-cream carts. You give these parks and gardens cultural value, making them worth protecting. In a city where construction often wins over conservation, your picnic is a quiet act of preservation. Final Thought Delhi is more than just a city of power and history—it's a space to pause and breathe. On a free Sunday, skip the screens and step into its green heart. In the quiet of Lodhi Gardens, the laughter at India Gate, or the serenity of Nehru Park, you'll find moments that don't just pass by—they stay. A picnic here isn't just an escape, it's a gentle way of connecting, slowing down, and finally belonging.


NDTV
a day ago
- NDTV
113-Year-Old Swedish Church Arrives At New Home After 2-day journey
A landmark Swedish church arrived Wednesday at its new home after a two-day move across the Arctic town of Kiruna, in a move to allow Europe's largest underground mine to expand. The red wooden Kiruna Kyrka, which dates back to 1912 and weighs 672 tonnes, completed its five-kilometre (three-mile) journey around 2:30 pm (1230 GMT). A musical fanfare celebrated its arrival after a meticulously choreographed relocation that began on Tuesday on two remote-controlled flatbed trailers inching forward at a pace of half a kilometre an hour. Kiruna's entire town centre is being relocated because of the giant LKAB iron ore mine, whose ever-deepening burrowing over the years has weakened the ground. A stone's throw from where the structure was inching into place next to the town's cemetery, Lutheran vicar Lena Tjarnberg held a church service for dignitaries in a tent resembling a "laavu", the traditional tent of the region's Indigenous Sami people. "Our beloved, beloved church began its journey yesterday from its unbelievably beloved location. Now it is on its way home," she said. The journey went smoothly for the 1,200-tonne convoy, despite some tricky narrow passages and 90-degree turns, officials said. The relocation has generated widespread interest, with large crowds thronging the streets of the town of 18,000 people. Lisa Weber, a 26-year-old real estate agent, had travelled from her home in Germany to Kiruna to be able to witness what she called a "historical" event. "It's something that you do once in your life, or see once in your life, and it's such a long distance from the old place to the new place," Weber told AFP, adding it was "very interesting" to see the elaborate process. LKAB said the new location had been "chosen with great care to preserve its character and connection to the surroundings." "The building has been rotated 180 degrees, meaning that the altar now faces west -- a symbolic choice that opens the church towards the city and its residents," the state-owned company said in a statement. LKAB added it was attempting to create a "cohesive whole" with other cultural buildings set to be moved. King Carl XVI Gustaf took part in Wednesday's festivities, exchanging a few words with driver Sebastian Druker, an Argentinian, who controlled the trailers remotely with a joystick. The 79-year-old king was also expected to take part in an attempt to break the world record for the number of people attending a "kyrkkaffe", a coffee break in conjunction with a church service. The town's relocation process began almost two decades ago and is expected to continue for years to come. The new town centre was inaugurated in September 2022. - Criticism - The company offered to financially compensate those affected by the town's relocation, or rebuild their homes or buildings. A total of 23 historic buildings have already been moved before the church, according to LKAB. Yet many Kiruna residents are unhappy. Alex Johansson and Magnus Fredriksson, who host a podcast on local Kiruna news, were critical of the mining company. "LKAB maybe didn't read the room so well when they destroyed the whole town, and then they stage this huge street party for the people," Fredriksson told broadcaster SVT, watching as the church rolled slowly down the road. "It's like they said, 'Here's some storage space for you, Kiruna. Now we're going to continue raking in the billions from here," Johansson added. They were happy the church had at least been saved, and hadn't ended up "as woodchips like the rest of Kiruna". - Iron ore, rare earths - LKAB, which is extracting iron ore at a depth of 1,365 metres, announced in 2023 that it had discovered Europe's largest known deposit of rare earth elements right next to the Kiruna mine. Rare earths are essential for the green transition, used in the manufacturing of electric vehicles. LKAB chief executive Jan Mostrom told AFP the deposit was "significant for Europe", as the continent seeks to reduce its dependence on imports from China. Activists argue that the mining operations destroy the area's pristine forests and lakes and disturb traditional Sami reindeer herding in the area. The relocation of the church alone was expected to cost LKAB some 500 million kronor ($52 million). Designed by Swedish architect Gustaf Wickman, the church, which measures 40 metres (131 feet) tall, is a mix of influences and includes designs inspired by the region's Indigenous Sami people on the pews. The neo-Gothic exterior features slanting roofs and windows on each side, while its dark interior has elements of national romanticism as well as an Art Nouveau altarpiece and an organ with more than 2,000 pipes. The church's handblown glass windows were removed ahead of the move, replaced with painted plywood. The bell tower, which stood separately next to the church, will be moved next week.


India.com
a day ago
- India.com
7 Fascinating Facts About Nainital That Will Change How You See the Lake District of India
I stood at the edge of Nainital at 5 a.m., wrapped in a borrowed shawl, watching the fog lift like a curtain from a stage. The lake — Naini Jheel — shimmered under a bruised pink sky, silent except for the distant chime of a temple bell. No crowds. No honking. Just the kind of stillness you don't believe exists in India — until you've lived it. Everyone calls Nainital a honeymoon spot. A school trip memory. A weekend getaway. But what if I told you it's something deeper? A place where mountains whisper, lakes remember names, and narrow alleys lead to conversations you didn't know you needed? This isn't just another hill station. It's a living archive of quiet magic. The Lake That Changes Names — And Moods Locals don't just call it Naini Jheel — they talk to it. Literally. During monsoon, when the mist swallows the hills, older residents say the lake 'breathes.' And depending on the season, it answers back. In summer: glassy, tourist-packed, loud with paddle boats In September: emerald-green, still, wrapped in a soft hush In winter: cold and moody, with a thin veil of frost at dawn I met Rajesh Uncle, a boatman with 37 years on the water. 'The lake,' he said, 'has three personalities. Tourists see one. We see all three.' Fun fact? Naini Jheel is not natural. It was formed in 1842 after a landslide blocked a stream. Yet today, it feels like it's always belonged. The Temple With a Story Even Locals Forget Perched on a hill, the Naina Devi Temple isn't just religious — it's mythological. Legend says the eyes of Goddess Sati fell here. That's why the lake is called Naini — from Naina, meaning eyes. But here's what's rarely mentioned: the temple was rebuilt seven times. Landslides, fires, British-era neglect — it keeps coming back. I visited at dusk. No grand rituals. Just a few elderly women lighting diyas, murmuring prayers into the wind. Pro tip: Skip the midday rush. Go after 6 p.m. The climb is steep (178 steps), but the silence at the top? Worth every breath. And yes — phones aren't allowed inside. A rare digital detox enforced by faith. The Market That Smells Like Butter Tea and Rebellion You'll find it near the Mall Road — a narrow lane locals call Tibetian Market, even if the spelling makes purists wince. This isn't a tourist trap. It's a community. Tibetan refugees started selling here in the 1960s. Today, their children run the stalls — selling momos, hand-knitted caps, and thangka paintings that take weeks to finish. I bought a woolen scarf from Tsering Aunty. She handed it over with a warning: 'Wear it when the wind bites. This one's made for real cold — not Delhi winters.' While you're there: Try the keema momos at Lhasa Kitchen Bargain gently — prices are fair, not inflated Ask about the prayer wheel wall behind the market — few tourists know it exists Why Walking Here Feels Like Time Travel There's no metro. No Ubers. No wide roads. In Nainital, you move slowly — by foot, by pony, or by tonga. I ditched my itinerary on day two and just walked. Up steep lanes. Past colonial bungalows with peeling paint. Through alleys where kids played cricket with a milk carton. One path led me to St. John in the Wilderness — a 150-year-old church where the pews still creak the same way. Another took me to Snow View, reachable by cable car. But I hiked. Took 45 minutes. Was it worth it? The view of the Himalayas at sunrise — yes. The blister on my heel — debatable. The Instagram Myth vs. The Real Vibe Let's be real: most Nainital photos are the same — a heart-shaped lake, a boat, a filter. But the real beauty? It's in the in-between moments. The old man reading a Hindi newspaper under a banyan tree The sound of school bells echoing across the valley A sudden downpour that sends everyone running — then laughing I asked a local influencer, Priya (who has 80K followers), why she posts so little from home. 'People want perfection,' she said. 'But Nainital isn't perfect. It's alive.' What You Should Know Before You Go Because no one wants surprises: Best time to visit: Late August to October. Post-monsoon greenery, stable weather Avoid: July and early August — landslides are real, roads close without warning Stay: Homestays > hotels. Try ones in Ayarpatta or Tallital for quiet views Eat: Try bal mithai from Raja Sweets — but skip the plastic-wrapped ones Connect: Wi-Fi is spotty in alleys. Embrace it And yes — Nainital has traffic. But it's caused by pedestrians, not cars. A problem worth having. Final Thought: This Isn't Just a Destination. It's a Reset. You don't do Nainital. You feel it. It won't give you adrenaline like Manali or glamour like Goa. But if you're burnt out, overconnected, or just need to remember what silence sounds like — this place will find you. I left with muddy shoes, a full camera roll, and something rarer: clarity.