Farmers introduce charge for tourists on Europe's famous walking route
The fee is a protest against overtourism, which they claim is damaging their land and leaving them with restoration costs.
Farmers reported up to 8,000 visitors on the path in a single day last week, with social media showing long queues of tourists.
They describe the action as a 'cry for help' after receiving no substantial response or compensation from the provincial government for the damage.
The local tourist association has questioned the legality of the charge, suggesting the landowners are simply seeking to profit.
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The Sun
an hour ago
- The Sun
Struggling single mum surviving on just £125 a MONTH fights tears at £250-a-night hotel on Rich Holiday, Poor Holiday
A STRUGGLING single mother who lives on just £125 a month after bills are paid, found herself fighting back tears on tonight's episode of Rich Holiday, Poor Holiday. Kelly, a cash-strapped mum-of-one and her bestie Lewie, took part in the Channel 5 experiment and found themselves in Northern Italy, with go-getting grandmas Jackie and Martine, both former pro dancers. 7 7 7 7 While 29-year-old happy-go-lucky Lewie lives at home with his mum and dad, works shifts for a budget airline and also flips burgers at his dad's truck-stop cafe, his best pal Kelly, 34, is employed by a transport company. Opening up about her hardships as a single mother to an eight-year-old, Kelly, who is from Portsmouth, explained: 'I work as hard as I can. 'Sometimes I'll even work a night shift, just because the night shifts are a bit more money.' But despite putting in the graft, every month after bills and food, Kelly is left with just £125 - so it's no surprise that luxury all-inclusive holidays are out of the question. The brunette confirmed: 'There's so much you want to buy but you can't, so I don't spend on things that aren't necessarily needed.' Kelly and Lewie, who met through friends 11 years ago and have been inseparable ever since, typically go for cheap-as-chips holidays to caravan sites. And to keep costs down, it's self-catering or budget fast food. The mother explained: 'We love Benidorm, or we'll do a nice little caravan break. 'We don't go out to eat that much, if we do we get a sharing platter and it works out cheaper.' But in tonight's episode, the pair were whisked off to live the high life at a majestic castle with Jackie and Martine, both of whom have travelled to the world's most exclusive destinations. I'm a mum-of-5 on £1.5K Universal Credit per month - people think I'm popping kids out to get 'lots of money' but I still have to use food banks - its embarrassing 'We're taking part in this to see how the other half live,' Kelly shared. Unlike Kelly and Lewie, not only are Jackie and Martine used to splashing the cash on fancy food and high adrenaline activities, but Jackie once spent a night in a £12,000-a-night hotel in Sweden. Once they arrived at the Veneto region of Northern Italy, the four best pals stayed in a former castle, the grand Hotel CastelBrando - a lavish hotel fit for a king, nestled in the Prosecco hills. The money you spend on certain things here is a three/four day holiday for us Kelly And it didn't take long before it all appeared very overwhelming for Kelly, as moments after entertaining the £250 a night suite, she admitted: 'It's just something else…quite emotional, there might be some tears shed.' Clearly blown away by the jaw-dropping room, she gasped: 'I don't think I have any words.' Moments later, Martine observed: 'I could see a bit of a tear in Kelly's eye, it's overwhelming for her to see such splender.' 7 7 7 And it wasn't just a posh hotel Kelly and Lewie were treated to - on the once-in-a-lifetime trip they also got a tour of Venice, with a £250 gondola ride and time at the spa, to which Kelly said: 'It's a lot different to arcades.' The shock continued for bargain hunters Kelly and Lewie, who were gobsmacked by the 'disgusting' prices, with £13.80 soft drinks and £430 glasses of Dom Perignon. Why caravan holidays are so underrated CARAVAN park holidays are a British staple. And with the cost of living crisis wreaking havoc on Britain's purses, more of us are turning to them for an affordable break. Josie O'Brien, Senior Digital Writer on Fabulous, weighs in on why she thinks caravan holidays are seriously underrated... WHEN I was a child, my mum used to collect the £9.50 holiday vouchers in The Sun. She'd use them to book a couple of nights away at a caravan park during the school holidays. As an adult, I fully appreciate the convenience of a humble caravan holiday. No faffing about with passports, no luggage limits and no bog-standard hotel breakfast of stale toast and grey eggs. I still love caravan holidays as an adult. In a world of doing everything for the 'gram, a caravan park brings you back to basics. There's no obligation to get dressed up, no stress to fit a million picturesque excursions in one week and I don't find myself flustered in tourist hot spots like abroad. I love going to coastal caravan parks and strolling along the beach parade. My highlight is always fresh mussels, ice-creams and classic pubs to grab an afternoon tipple in. And then, of course, there's the cost. Staying in a caravan is definitely way cheaper than my international trips. With no expensive hotel bills and the ability to cook my own meals, I'm spending hundreds less than I would abroad. I've had some of my best and most relaxing holidays in caravans. Maybe I'll buy my own one day. To this, Kelly claimed: 'The money you spend on certain things here is a three/four day holiday for us.' After dining at a £70-per-head restaurant, Kelly and Lewie were told that their holiday had a total cost of £8,118. To this, the single mother said: 'I'll be honest, it's not what I would expect for the money that's been spent.' I work as hard as I can. Sometimes I'll even work a night shift, just because the night shifts are a bit more money Kelly Whilst Lewie chimed in: 'That's five months worth of wages for me for this summer. An obscene amount for a holiday. 'Astonishing. We would rather stick to our budget holidays. Luxury isn't for me.' Despite her shock at the cost, Kelly beamed: 'It turned out to be an amazing week with beautiful places, beautiful people, friends who are friends for life now. 'That just shows you don't need to have money to have fun.'
BBC News
an hour ago
- BBC News
Italy's undercover pizza detectives
As pizza's popularity spreads around the world, a group of top-secret agents are travelling the globe on espionage missions to determine what "real" pizza is. On a sweltering day bleached by the fearsome southern Italian sun, a group of international travellers have gathered a stone's throw from Naples' San Gennaro catacombs, named for the city's patron saint. But these visitors aren't here to venerate the ancient martyr; they've come in service of something equally important to the city's identity. Hailing from Belgium, France, Japan, South Korea, Canada and Brazil, these men and women are all aspiring pizzaioli (traditional Italian pizza makers), and they are about to take the biggest pizza test of their lives. The trainees are at the headquarters of the Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana (the "True Neapolitan Pizza Association", or AVPN for short). Founded in 1984, this organisation exists to "promote and protect" an exacting vision of the city's most famous culinary marvel, and was instrumental in inscribing "the art" of Neapolitan pizza-making as a Unesco Intangible Culture Heritage of Humanity several years ago. From its humble origins as a Neapolitan street food in the late 1800s pizza has become one of the world's most beloved, ubiquitous dishes. Though there are two traditional types of Neapolitan pizza (the Margherita, topped with tomato sauce, mozzarella and fresh basil; and the marinara, which uses oregano and garlic instead of basil and doesn't contain cheese) myriad contemporary varieties have popped up worldwide in recent decades – from slices dressed with blue cheese and honey to the creamy, lemon peel-topped Crisommola del Vesuvio by chef Franco Pepe. But just as there are strict criteria for determining "authentic" Champagne or Parmigiano cheese, this group of culinary custodians has set out to ensure that the delectable dish stays true to its Neapolitan roots – at least if you're going to call it "real" pizza. "There is a big connection between this kind of food and the soul of Naples," says Massimo Di Porzio, vice president at the AVPN, who is flecked with flour in his corporate profile photo. With its training school, competitions, trade fairs and a large bronze pizza statue shining just outside its headquarters the AVPN has become a veritable empire of pizza authenticity. Its lengthy guidelines dictate that all certified pies must consist of a "roundish seasoned disc" with a high-border, puffy crust (cornicione) no taller than 1-2cm. There should be no "big bubbles" or "burned spots". Pizzas must be "soft", "elastic" and foldable. Pizza-makers can't use a rolling pin or baking tray. Cooking a pizza for longer than 90 seconds is sacrilegious. And the final product must be consumed within 10 minutes after emerging from the oven. On the blistering-hot final day of the AVPN's rigorous monthly training course, the international students will put their newfound pizza knowledge to the test. Attendees have studied dough-leavening techniques and hydration, the ins and outs of yeast, the nuances of picking fresh toppings and ideal salt-to-water ratios. They've practiced the intricacies of placing pizza into ovens – a simple-seeming but deceptively tricky step – all with the goal of baking a consistently perfect pie. "I was quite nervous, especially as people started coming back from their exams," says Gemma Eldridge, a Canadian pizza-maker. "But you're really only there for three minutes. You don't really have time to be nervous." From 10:00 to 18:00 during the nine-day course, Eldridge and her fellow pizzaioli baked as many as 40 practice pies each day. Today, students pick at their rehearsal Margheritas as they await the return of the other trainees from their exams, under the scrutiny of local pizza celebrities Gino Sorbillo and Paolo Surace. The chefs are being judged on an undisputed classic: the Margherita. While the pizzaioli refine their technical know-how through this intensive programme, the course is only their first step towards pizza mastery. The real work begins with maintaining these standards in pizzerias back home – an ongoing test that will continue throughout the rest of their careers, should they one day work in accredited Neapolitan pizza restaurants. While pizza-chef training is available to anyone, the bar is higher for restaurants to get accredited. Pizzerias must first employ an AVPN-trained pizzaiolo. They then have to fill out reams of forms in which they swear to "accept, respect and promote the tradition of the Neapolitan pizza". They must photograph their kitchen, equipment and ingredients, as well as take videos of their head pizza chef preparing dough and making and cooking a pizza. This is all sent off to the AVPN headquarters in Naples with no guarantee of approval. To date, roughly 1,000 pizzerias from Japan to Siberia and Ecuador to the UK have signed up to be part of this elite pizza club and, once accredited, can display their AVPN certificate bearing a striped figure wielding a baking peel, all together forming a global network of pizzerias where travellers know they can get the real deal. Still, a restaurant's scrutiny isn't over once it's accredited, as the AVPN intermittently dispatches secret pizza agents on espionage missions to clandestinely spy on the restaurants. Any pizzeria found non-compliant with the group's standards by these quality-control spies risks de-listing. According to one such agent, who cannot be named: "The most serious error I found was a pizza that was crispy and with dough that was definitely not approved." The Association verified the problem and then promptly removed this restaurant from its list of pizzerias. In Japan, a pizzeria that was kicked out of the organisation – but continued to display its certificate – learned of the consequences the hard way. "We went to Osaka and removed it," laughs Di Porzio, recalling the lawyer accompanying the pizza enforcers. This mission to define authentic pizza has a curious side effect, says Karima Mover-Nocchi, a food historian at the University of Siena, who suggests the whole process is as much about myth-making as it is maintaining traditional like this:• A chef's guide to the best pizza in Naples• How to make pizza like a Neapolitan master• Italy's beloved 'fried pizza' By codifying "authentic" pizza, she says the AVPN creates an "inner circle" of true-pizza certificate holders. In short: all the exclusivity gets people salivating over pizza more. "The AVPN aren't just preserving a tradition, they're producing it," she says. "[The AVPN is elevating pizza] into a transcendental experience. They're safeguarding the dish, but also creating a mystique – and you're made to feel like you're part of something that's enduring." Still, given the high drama of these top-secret cloak-and-dagger pizza investigations, it's ironic that such fussy standards to maintain "traditional" Neapolitan pies haven't always existed. According to Di Porzio, centuries ago, Naples' artisanal pizza-makers each had differing techniques, usually passed down from father to son. But in the late 20th Century, faced with a groundswell of shoddy fast-food simulacra that offered fake-Neapolitan pizza, AVPN founder Antonio Pace – who is from a long lineage of pizzaioli – gathered 16 other pizza-making families to standardise what makes an "authentic" pie. There were bumps along the way for the "17 families", as they are known. A major row erupted over the finer details of dough fermentation, but the initial guidelines were published in 1984 and the AVPN was formed. In 1998, the organisation teamed up with the nearby Università Parthenope di Napoli to study pizza science, cutting-edge baking technology and the broader impact of the food, co-creating the Socio-Economic Observatory of Neapolitan Pizza. A yearly conference of top pizza-makers debate whether new findings, such as improvements to flour manufacturing, necessitate a rejigging of the regulations. But for all this precision and protectiveness over pizza napoletana, Antonio Puzzi, the editor-in-chief of the magazine Pizza e Pasta Italiana, notes that Italy has dozens of different types of pizzas. There's Neapolitan pizza fritta(deep-fried calzone), but also Roman pizza, which is crispier and crunchier than the Neapolitan style and rolled with a pin rather than hand-stretched. Then there's pizza nel ruoto (pizza baked in a pan), cooked in a small baking tin; the hot and crispy deep-fried pizzonta from Abruzzo; and a long list of variations on focaccias and flatbreads. "There are a lot of recognised kinds of pizza in many cities and many states," says Puzzi. "But the only official representation is for Neapolitan pizza." Even with Italy's many pizza varieties, certain faux pas – such as ordering a chicken pizza overseas – remain just as likely to invoke the wrath of Italian purists. Case in point: after trying in vain to open 880 shops in Italy, US pizza brand Domino's famously filed for bankruptcy in the bel paese in 2022 – and never dared to open a branch in Naples. Yet, some argue that Italian tastes arechanging, and despite the AVPN's seeming rigidity, they now seem to be more amenable to modifying their exacting standards than they were in the past. "If we can improve something, we'll change it, so we are very open," says Di Porzio. In 2024, Sorbillo, one of the AVPN's examiners and accredited restaurateurs, controversially debuted a Neapolitan pizza with Hawaiian-style toppings. While critics such as Puzzi describe the pizza as a "provocation" – and employees of the eponymous Naples restaurant Gino e Toto Sorbillo all but refused to serve it to me – Sorbillo believes there's room for both modernity and tradition. "Pizza does not stop at a certain point – it's always developing, changing, cooperating with the Association, there is always something to learn," he says. "The pizza of today is not the same as 40 years ago." Yet times do change, acknowledges Di Porzio, who says the AVPN faced a "lot of criticism" for accepting in 2013 that Neapolitan pizza could be cooked in electric ovens as well as the traditional wooden receptacles. The decision rankled the most hardcore traditionalists, says Di Porzio. Still, even as trends and styles shift and previously taboo toppings become de rigueur, Di Porzio and the AVPN believe it's important to maintain traditional cooking methods too. "I always say, pizza napoletana is not necessarily the best, but the pizza that has its strongest roots in the culture," says Di Porzio. "So it's a skill that we need to teach and preserve." -- For more Travel stories from the BBC, follow us on Facebook and Instagram.
Telegraph
2 hours ago
- Telegraph
Marriage Diaries: ‘My wife is an adventurous eater and it ruins every summer holiday'
It was the lapas that did it—a big, steaming plate of the things, grilled with garlic and butter. For the uninitiated (which included me and most of my family at the time), lapas are limpets. An Azorean delicacy. How can I describe them? Well, you know when you've masticated chewing gum of its original flavour and you're about to get rid of it? Well, they're kind of like that, but a bit chewier and a lot more garlicky and slimy. They seemed to be going down a storm in the restaurant that my wife had dragged us all to. And the reason they were going down a storm was because the restaurant was packed with locals. When I say locals, I mean grizzled old fishermen with no teeth, which is probably why they were being eaten like mini-oysters and slurped down with copious quantities of the local hooch. And, when I say restaurant, I mean a back street choked with tables, chairs, and dogs and cats, around an opening in a wall from which plate after plate of lapas kept appearing. The reason we were there was because my wife is a very adventurous eater, and every time we go away, we are forced to adhere to her mantra of 'eating like locals'. In the past, this has led to us being presented with fish eyes in Greece, octopus in Portugal, blue beef in Spain, and, of course, frog legs and snails in France. Every time we go away, we end up eating another local delicacy. And that's fine with me. I don't regard myself as an unadventurous eater. And the kids aren't picky either. However, what's not fine with me (and the kids) is that our quest for foods that many would regard as challenging now takes place almost every night of our week-long foreign holiday. Thankfully, as I've mentioned, most of the restaurants where we eat these dishes are in back streets, surrounded by dogs and cats which means that the entire family have developed certain sleight of hand techniques that ensure we send a clean plate back to the kitchen so that we don't offend either the local chef or my wife. And the local stray mammal population doesn't go hungry. Then it's every man and teenager for themselves as we find our own ways to fill the groaning holes in our stomachs, bingeing on the bread basket or snaffling secret burgers in town. The situation has even made me wonder if we can afford to venture across to the US, where eating like locals would surely involve burgers, hot dogs, nachos, or we may even have to endure 'low and slow' brisket and ribs, dripping in barbecue sauce. I've even considered a staycation in one of those forest-based holiday villages where our dining would be a mixture of self-catering and traditional English fare, but the lack of guaranteed sunshine is putting me off. However, we all love Europe, so, it's back to the land of adventurous eating and this time Croatia, where I've already researched some of the weirdest delicacies the country has to offer so that the kids and I are fully briefed on what we might be facing on our dinner plates – grilled dormouse or frog and eel stew, anyone? However, this time there is a soft rebellion afoot, because unbeknown to my wife, I have booked an all-inclusive where our breakfast, lunch and dinner will be provided, buffet-style. Of course, we'll still explore the local cuisine to keep my wife happy, our horizons broadened and the local dormouse population under control, but we can now face the local delicacies safe in the knowledge that if they don't get our gastric juices flowing then back at the hotel buffet, in the heart of the Balkans, 'Asia night' is waiting for us.
