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Record amount of seaweed piles up on Caribbean beaches

Record amount of seaweed piles up on Caribbean beaches

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Tourists walk along a beach covered with sargassum seaweed during its season, in Cancun, Mexico June 4. A record-breaking amount of sargassum seaweed is washing ashore on Caribbean shores, suffocating beaches from Cancun to Puerto Rico. REUTERS/Paola Chiomante Purchase Licensing Rights , opens new tab

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Spanish holiday hotspot hotel is accused of having the 'worst breakfast in Europe' as diner urges tourists to 'avoid' the 'bad tasting' eatery
Spanish holiday hotspot hotel is accused of having the 'worst breakfast in Europe' as diner urges tourists to 'avoid' the 'bad tasting' eatery

Daily Mail​

time11 hours ago

  • Daily Mail​

Spanish holiday hotspot hotel is accused of having the 'worst breakfast in Europe' as diner urges tourists to 'avoid' the 'bad tasting' eatery

One of Spain 's holiday hotspot hotels has been flagged by tourists as having the 'worst breakfast in Europe'. Hotel Atlántico, a four-star hotel nestled in the heart of Madrid, has received scathing reviews from diners on TripAdvisor. 'The rooms are nice and comfortable. Sadly that's where it ends,' one dissatisfied guest wrote. As well as complaining about lack of sleep due to hearing 'every creak and step in this place', the guest who stayed in Hotel Atlántico in May 2025, had strong feelings about the 'bad tasting' breakfast. 'The breakfast is the worst I have come across in all of Europe,' they warned. 'Do not have it.' Describing the food in more detail, a second guest wrote: 'My only complaint is the poor quality of the breakfast experience; self-service machine coffee, wet slices of ham, tasteless slices of plastic cheese and slightly stale bread one morning. 'One member of staff only each day and they couldn't keep up with everything that needed doing.' 'Plenty of Cava though,' they added, 'so not all bad.' Other 'disappointed' reviews pointed to the 'poor selection' at breakfast and its 'weird layout configuration'. More diplomatic TripAdvisor users suggested skipping the substandard breakfast entirely. Instead, they recommend eating at one of the many cafes available a stone's throw away from the hotel on La Gran Via - one of Madrid's most popular shopping areas. There were a range of other opinions on the breakfast with one guest describing it as 'very good' while Mick from Ayrshire in South West Scotland labelling it as 'ok'. 'The lack of chopped fruit and plain yogurt limited out healthy options compared with hotels on our travels,' Mick, who stayed at the hotel with his family in September 2024, penned. 'Otherwise all the staff were friendly and helpful and I would recommend this hotel if you want a central venue in Madrid,' he added. Despite mixed feedback, Hotel Atlántico advertises itself as having an 'excellent breakfast according to clients' on its website. A double room at the central hotel will set punters back around £250 for one night. Breakfast costs an additional £10. Reviews of the hotel breakfast are mixed with one disgruntled guest describing it as the 'worst I have come across in all of Europe' while others said it was 'OK' or 'very good' Eva Garcia, Hotel Atlántico's Assistant Director, responded to one user's scathing review of the breakfast buffet by 'apologising for not exceeding your expectations'. 'We have a buffet style breakfast with hot and cold meals (different types of eggs, sausages, bacon, cheese, cured ham, ham, turkey, cakes, jam, honey, yogurts, different types of bread, fruits, vegetables, coffees and juices, and also Cava),' she wrote. 'We strive to ensure each and every guest experience is satisfying. The rate is 12 euros. Please consider the value for money.'

How the mega rich are making holidays unaffordable
How the mega rich are making holidays unaffordable

Telegraph

time14 hours ago

  • Telegraph

How the mega rich are making holidays unaffordable

Ever feel you're being priced out of your annual trip abroad? For many ordinary holidaymakers the choice of affordable destinations seems to be narrowing by the year. These days anywhere even vaguely pretty has been colonised by luxury brands and their mega-rich devotees. With fewer 'hidden paradises' for them to discover, wealthy travellers are now flocking to places once considered standard holiday fare. And while the rest of us were 'staycationing' in the drizzle, investors were busily hoarding anywhere with a half-decent beach. Oliver Corkhill, co-founder of bespoke tour operator Viadi Group, thinks the definition of luxury travel has evolved significantly in recent years. He says: 'Quality and exceptional service are now baseline expectations, with the focus shifting to what guests can truly take away from their holiday. It's no longer just about indulgence; it's about truly connecting with a destination.' Corkhill believes there's been a mindset shift with wealthier travellers now seeking an 'enriching experience'. He acknowledges that this rise in expectations, coupled with companies competing to attract money-is-no-object travellers, has priced many people out of the market. Globally, the number of millionaires is spiralling, as is their desire for high-end experiential holidays. And destinations – particularly those stung by over-tourism but keen to maintain the income holidaymakers bring – are desperate to woo them. This rush to inhabit the top-end of the market is a relatively new phenomenon. Moneyed travellers have traditionally been quite conservative in their choice of getaway. Old favourites such as Mustique, Monaco and the Amalfi Coast were seen as familiar, reassuringly expensive and far from the gaze of the package holiday hordes. But that was before the great post-Covid land grab. Take one of the more recent examples, the tiny island of Platte in the Seychelles. Thirty years ago this remote idyll in the middle of the Indian Ocean could easily have become one of those lost paradise-on-a-budget destinations beloved of grubby backpackers – think tents on beaches and cheap, palm-fronded bars. But investors have long since hollowed out that meagre revenue stream. In 2024 Hilton Group opened a five-star Waldorf Astoria resort on Platte, filling what had once been a small coconut plantation with imported palm trees and high-end lodges. The gamble appears to be paying off, with no shortage of high flyers lining up to pay around £12,000 a night for a five-bedroom villa. The Seychelles wasn't always a magnet for the super rich. Local expat artist Michael Adams and his wife Heather moved there in 1972, and have fond memories of the islands before the developers arrived. 'For years the place was a hippy paradise with a few arty expats like us living a very simple, carefree life,' says Heather. 'We rarely encountered many tourists other than a few hairy dropouts seeking nirvana. These days it feels more like a playground for rich bankers and swanky wedding parties.' European destinations are also trying to attract the billionaire class. Once known for their bohemian vibes, Greek islands such as Mykonos, Santorini and Ios have been well and truly blinged in recent years, abandoning the needs of ordinary holidaymakers in favour of the luxury end of the market. Santorini feels less like the rustic outpost of old and more a roped-off playground for the yachting fraternity. At Santa Marina, a five-star resort on Mykonos, rooms cost around £2,400 a night. It's all a far cry from the homely mama and baba pensions that once proliferated here. Then there's Montenegro, once seen as one of Europe's most affordable destinations, but now home to fleets of mega-yachts and a plethora of five-star resorts such as Nikki Beach and The Chedi, part of a sprawling new beach community in Luštica Bay complete with luxury apartment blocks, a handsome town square and one of Europe's highest, most exclusive golf courses. Even Benidorm has been trying to shed its less-than-salubrious image. When I visited recently the town felt more like a cross between Miami and Dubai with shiny new high-end hotels looming over the wide, perfectly manicured beaches. These days the old town feels properly cosmopolitan and the Boca del Calvari Museum even had a Goya exhibition. You'll also struggle to find a decent room for less than £200, and up in the mountains overlooking Benidorm, the Asia Gardens and Melia Villaitana resorts are as good as anything you'll find in more traditionally lavish locations. Ibiza's transformation from scuzzy 1970s hippie retreat to the world's most exclusive global party hub has been more gradual but no less dramatic. When I was there visiting friends recently, the decadent vibe felt like a two-fingered salute to all those bearded dropouts who decamped to what was then a remote corner of the Balearics. In July, a room at the Six Senses in Cala Nova will set you back over £1,300 a night. That's assuming, of course, the hotel isn't already fully booked; Ibiza has become the Glastonbury festival of holiday destinations where tickets sell out fast. Many of the older residents I spoke to complained that the island itself had sold out to a new breed of flashy drug-fuelled pleasure-seekers with little interest in island life. While the super rich are expanding their holiday horizons across every nook and cranny of Europe, don't expect long-haul destinations to offer much of an affordable alternative. Back in the early 1990s, if you backpacked across south-east Asia you were still considered something of a pioneer. On Thailand's Koh Phi Phi, I remember being told not to drink the water and to carry a torch with me at all times due to unpredictable electricity supplies. How times have changed. Phi Phi along with neighbouring Koh Phangan and Koh Samui have seen heavy development over the past 20 years with sprawling resorts replacing the tatty beach huts of old. Mexico's Yucatan peninsula has suffered a similar fate, with the unmade but picturesque ocean road from Cancun to Tulum now a gleaming highway lined with upscale hotels. Tulum, once a remote Mayan ruin surrounded by a smattering of camp sites, has been transformed into a glamorous beach resort where rooms at La Valise Tulum will set you back over £300. Wealthy travellers may be shaping the holiday landscape but there are still some surprisingly affordable pockets of Europe that have resisted. The Dordogne, for instance, has some lovely family-owned chateau hotels that don't cost the earth. Rooms at four star hotel L'Abbaye in sleepy Saint-Cyprien start at around £120 and from there you can tour the region's many historic castles where entry costs around £10. Drop by any of Périgord's heavenly villages and you can still enjoy a three-course menu du jour for around £14. But if you're still feeling down about the affordability of your next trip abroad, just remember: the super rich feed on exclusivity. So perhaps they'll grow tired of colonising the entire world and retreat back to their more familiar habitats – allowing the rest of us to rediscover favourite haunts we assumed were beyond our reach.

Who drank all the matcha? How tourism drained a Japanese town
Who drank all the matcha? How tourism drained a Japanese town

BBC News

time20 hours ago

  • BBC News

Who drank all the matcha? How tourism drained a Japanese town

In Uji, Japan's historic matcha capital, demand for premium green tea is outpacing supply. As tourists scramble for tins, locals fear that tradition may be getting diluted. 10:00 is an important time in Uji, Japan. It's when the matcha shops open. The town is just a half hour train ride from Kyoto and is world-renowned for matcha, the pulverised green tea traditionally frothed with hot water. Just before the hour, I stroll off the subway and head straight to nearby Nakamura Tokichi Honten; once the supplier of tea to the emperor and now arguably the most prestigious matcha purveyor in Japan. I've heard securing a table at their cafe can be difficult, so I grow nervous as two girls scamper ahead of me. The cafe hasn't officially opened yet, so I grab a numbered ticket to reserve a spot. Somehow there are already 35 people ahead of me in line. While I wait, I stroll through the shop and browse the many matcha products lining the shelves – ice creams, confections, even matcha-infused noodles. But I'm looking for some of the actual stuff: matcha powder. I notice a lady with a basket full of green tins, and a commotion breaks out in the corner. A diminutive Japanese store worker tries to restock a shelf, but she barely places a tin down before it is eagerly snatched up in the throng of tourists. She is swarmed on all sides by grabby arms, and some people even reach directly into her basket to snag canisters of the precious powder. She yells out in Japanese, but her message is lost on the foreign ears surrounding her. Realising these are the few matcha tins left in the shop, I reach into the crowd to wrap my fingers around a white canister. Someone grabs my hand, then grunts and lets go. A second later, a tall woman with an American accent yells out, "It's gone. All the matcha's gone." My guess is that it's not past 10:05. I join the queue to pay for my 30g tin, not knowing exactly what I've grabbed or how much it costs. I surmise that I didn't get the more potent of matchas, as others have tins of varying shades of green. I watch enviously as a man in the front of the line has 30 or so tins sealed in a tax-free plastic bag. In a German accent he says, "I can't believe I just spent 250 euros on tea." He seems proud. Unlike many of the other prestigious tea purveyors in Uji, Nakamura Tokichi has not imposed a limit on the number of matcha tins visitors can buy. I spend the rest of the morning wandering around town, picking up whatever is still available here and there. Tsujirihei Honten, another prestigious brand established in 1860, advertises 20 or so types of matcha, but only has three or four varieties on offer. Even with a purchase limit, most of the stores in Uji, the matcha capital of the world, are sold out. Rich with antioxidants and with a more tempered caffeine boost, matcha has seen skyrocketing demand around the world. Japan's Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries reports that 4,176 tons of matcha were produced in 2023, a threefold increase since 2010. Ballooning in parallel is Japan's tourism industry: 2024 saw nearly 37 million tourists, a record high. Market reports show that the beverage's popularity is largely attributed to its health benefits, and the grinch-green drinks and desserts also play well on social media. There's no singular grading system for matcha, but many shops will broadly categorise their powders as ceremonial, premium or culinary. Ceremonial matchas are typically made from the newest leaves of the season and are valued for their rich, almost umami flavour, with no bitterness. On the other end of the matcha-tasting spectrum is culinary matcha, which tends to be coarser and has a slight bitter taste – better suited for saccharine confections. Falling in between the two are premium or daily use grades, which are versatile in use. Tomomi Hisaki, general manager at the Tsujirihei flagship store, says that international visitors have a particular proclivity for top-grade ceremonial matchas and often buy stashes in bulk. But she says supply cannot keep up with demand. "High-grade Uji matcha is not something that can be mass-produced in the first place," she says. For one, tea leaves destined for ceremonial matcha are grown in the shade, as the darkness produces a richer, more umami and astringent flavour. "However, if you cover it, it will not be able to photosynthesize, so it will not grow, and the harvest will be small," she says. Another bottleneck in production, Hisaki explains, is the traditional stone mills. These mills produce a particularly fine powder, but each mill can only yield about 400g of tea after eight hours – enough for 13 tins. Matcha production could be boosted by planting more tea farms, Hisaki says, but it would take years for current investments to reach store shelves. This scarcity of Uji-made ceremonial matcha fosters a sense of exclusivity, which further fuels the zeal of tourists. Hisaki says that since the start of the year, their store will sell a month's supply of matcha powder in a single day. And if the frenzy continues, she says, tea ceremony instructors, temples and shrines could have difficulty securing supply. "We have heard reports of ceremonial matcha being used for lattes and smoothies, which can reduce the availability of high-quality matcha for those who wish to enjoy it in its traditional form," says Simona Suzuki, president of the Global Japanese Tea Association. "Our hope is that foreign tourists will consider the intended use when purchasing matcha." I kept thinking back to the man at the front of the line and those like him, hoarding hundreds of dollars' worth of matcha. What could one possibly do with so much of the finest quality tea? I don't know that man, but I suspect he wasn't buying the matcha for tea ceremonies. I suspect that like me, he and the folks back home enjoy diluting the beverage with milk and sugar in the form of a matcha latte, maybe even baking a batch of cookies. I also suspect that most folks, like me, don't have a refined enough palate to distinguish between the top tiers of matcha. Plus, the grassy green product loses its freshness after sitting in a pantry for months. Yet I see that when we're hundreds of miles from home and the opportunity arises, it can be all too tempting to drop our polite inhibitions and allow greed to overtake our graces. How many tins would I have taken, given the opportunity? "I think it's wonderful that the matcha of Japan is spreading," says Hisaki, "I would like more people to enjoy it for health, tea ceremonies and cultural inheritance." But she urges visitors not to hoard supplies for resale. More like this:• The women saving Japan's vanishing cuisine• The eight Asian sauces to keep in your pantry• How the bullet train transformed Japan Shopping in Uji became more stressful than I anticipated, as I spent my time wondering if I should be trying to snag the last remaining tins of matcha in town. But even if visitors miss out on taking home a stash of ceremonial matcha, there's no shortage of other products to enjoy. Suzuki hopes that travellers will turn an eye toward other teas such as vibrant senchas or earthy gyokuros. There's also hojicha, the roasted cousin to matcha that tastes more of nuts and chocolate than chlorophyll, and – in my opinion – tastier than matcha. Despite the shortage of matcha powder, Uji is still like a tea-themed park with an endless diversity of products. At Nakamura Tokichi I order a tea-infused soba noodle and matcha parfait, and from souvenir shops I purchase matcha fettuccine and curry. Eateries dish up matcha gyozas, takoyaki and ramen. At Tsujirihei, I purchase a bag of sweetened matcha powder, a product designed to be easily dissolved in water – ideal for matcha lattes or other sweet drinks. I'm sipping on this sort of instant matcha latte now, enlivened by its verdant greenness and soothed by its warmth. Sure, this drink wasn't served to the emperor, but it suits my purposes just fine. -- For more Travel stories from the BBC, follow us on Facebook, X and Instagram.

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