Latest news with #seaside
Yahoo
6 hours ago
- Yahoo
Domino's launches Domidog - the K9 robot delivering pizzas to you on the beach
Domino's has created Domidog - a robot K9 designed to safely deliver pizza to customers at the beach. Although the pizza pup won't replace traditional drivers, the prototype is being launched this summer to protect against swarms of seagulls who swoop on food at seaside hotspots. The brand designed the fun robot pooch alongside research, which put seagulls in the top 10 things that bother Brits the most at the beach. It emerged that one in three admit they have fallen foul of the boisterous birds who circle the skies and swoop for food, according to 1,500 polled who visit the seaside. Meanwhile, 59% wish there were a way to easily protect their snacks from seagulls when at the seaside. Domino's creates robot dog to deliver pizza at seaside locations Izzy Gardener from Domino's said: 'Seagulls have claimed too many seaside snacks, and it's time we did something about it. 'We're always exploring new and innovative ways to keep your pizza as hot and fresh as possible on its delivery journey. 'That's why we're trailing Domidog this summer: a tech-driven answer to an age-old beach problem.' Before turning pizza pup, the Boston Dynamics robot has proven its capabilities: supporting search and rescue operations, assisting bomb squads and advancing robotics research in human-robot interaction. What annoys you the most when visiting the beach? (Image: Joe Pepler/PinPep) Now, it's putting those same advanced systems to work on a new mission - guarding your pizza from airborne snack thieves. Complete with a hi-tech spec, it can autonomously navigate its environment using onboard sensors, stereo cameras, and advanced localisation technology. Other features like 360 degree perception also help it to effortlessly avoid obstacles while delivering. From the research, when asked what grated their gears most about the greedy gulls, stealing food (61%) naturally topped the list, followed by their aggressive behaviour (50%). With one in 10 going as far as to say the badly behaved birds have damaged their property, while 19% claim they'd scared small children, according to the data. Additionally, limited toilets (40%), big crowds (37%), and unruly dogs not on leads (17%) also made the top 10 list. Recommended reading: I tested the Aldi robot vacuum against Amazon's top-rated Ultenic - I'm in love Tesco shopper discovers secret hack to get free items with your food shop Aldi expert reveals 5 fridge storage hacks to make food last (and save money) Top 10 things that bother people at the beach Lack of toilets nearby Crowded beaches Litter Expensive/limited parking Seagulls Dogs off the lead Strong winds Getting sun burn Limited parking Sand in food Izzy added: 'Thanks to this prototype, seaside visitors will have a sure-fire way to keep slices safe and secure at the seaside – without them heading off into the sky.'
The Sun
16 hours ago
- The Sun
The seafront hotel right by award-winning beaches in the UK
THERE'S plenty to do at The Seaburn Inn making it a great spot for couples and families to enjoy the seaside entertainment and history of the harbour. Read on to find out about the plenty of seaside attractions near the Inn. Where is The Seaburn Inn? In the prime location between coastal and city life, this rustic inn is right on the beachfront but still near Sunderland's city centre. The Sunderland train station is only a 15-minute taxi to the Inn. Driving to the Seaburn Inn will also be no problem as free parking is offered to all guests. What is the hotel like? The Seaburn Inn is a modern 3* hotel and pub on the seafront in the friendly coastal town of Roker. It is the newest spot to sleep, eat and drink on Sunderland's seafront. Perfect for couples or families, there is a beer garden if you fancy a pint in the sun, whilst your children are in the play area. What is there to do at the hotel? Perfect for couples or families as it is close to seaside attractions, the Empire Theatre, a park, and the city centre if you fancy a spot of shopping. Tyne and Wear boasts Blue Flag award-winning beaches, just a quick twenty-minute walk from Seaburn. Fancy something more historic? Visit the National Glass Centre to learn how glass-making was brought to Sunderland 1,300 years ago and see demonstrations. What is there to eat and drink there? Before dinner, enjoy a cocktail (starting from £9) or a glass of wine (a cheap £4.50) on the outdoor terrace overlooking the beach and sunset. Tuck into hearty British classics (fish and chips £17, toad in the hole £16, and sticky toffee pudding which is to die for £8.50) for an affordable price with a beautiful sea view at their restaurant. Not to worry there is also a kids' menu and a cheaper light bites menu if you want to grab a little something. What are the rooms like at? One night B&B in a double room is from £89. Click here to book. Sign up and get an extra 10 per cent off your booking. There are fabulous sea view rooms with sliding doors and balconies looking out over the beach and North Sea, great for enjoying an al fresco drink. Our room had a cosy bed, toiletries and tea and coffee-making facilities. Is the hotel family-friendly? Yes. It has great spacious rooms to accommodate, and bunk beds for the kids. The Seaburn Inn also extends their invite to your four-legged animal at an extra cost of £15. Is there access for guests with disabilities? Yes. There are accessible rooms and a lift for convenience. Call the welcoming team on 01915803610 to confirm these rooms. Looking for a place to stay? For more hotel inspiration click here. 2
Telegraph
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Frances Barber: ‘Trump is the only politician who doesn't talk like a focus group'
Frances Barber greets me by apologising for wearing dungarees: 'I've changed twice already today. I just don't know what to wear in this heat.' At least there is air-con at the central London hotel where we have met, unlike, she says, in her open-plan Clerkenwell warehouse flat, where she ordinarily likes to conduct interviews, and which is, apparently, fabulous – a roll-top bath standing bang in the middle of the living room. 'There's a picture of it in a magazine,' she says with a throaty purr when I express regret at not seeing this thing, which has allegedly been the centrepiece of many an excellent party. It's the only faintly affected comment that this most glamorous-looking of actresses, whose feline eyes have graced characters from Camille to Cleopatra throughout a four-decade career, makes throughout our interview. In fact, dungarees feel rather apt; they are the sort of thing Barber's character Dolly might wear in the seaside crime comforter Whitstable Pearl, which is beginning its third season on U&Drama. Dolly is a classic Barber role – the interfering, opinionated, rather wacky mother to the eponymous Pearl (Kerry Godliman), herself an amateur sleuth who cracks the inordinate number of crimes that seem to take place in this bougie Kent coastal town with rather more aplomb than the local detective, Mike. Dolly attends CND marches, dyes her hair maroon and likes to tell her daughter how it is, particularly where Pearl's love life is concerned. I suggest Barber, 67, and a political firebrand in her time, is a bit like this, too. 'Perhaps a little. I've always had a bit of a 'Don't give a s---' attitude. I grew up watching Coronation Street, and I only ever wanted to be Audrey in the hairdresser's. These women were witty, spoke their minds, and they were survivors. Women my age don't want to see ourselves on TV as depressed and washed-up people who have lost everything. We want to see women who are carrying on and having a laugh.' There is certainly an indefatigable fearlessness about Barber. She is not afraid to stand up for what she believes. She has spoken out against the silencing of gender-critical views in the trans-rights debate and in 2020 signed an open letter defending JK Rowling after the author received death threats. A brave move, surely, given the prevalence of anti-Rowling sentiment within the acting community? 'I didn't think I was brave, I thought it was common sense,' she says. 'It's sometimes hard to take a stand, but I was lucky – I had no kickback that I know about. I know a lot of women lost their livelihoods in publishing and other occupations [for saying something similar], but I'm still working.' She's also taken a stand over anti-Semitism, resigning from her beloved Labour Party in 2017 because of Jeremy Corbyn. We're speaking the week after Glastonbury and Barber is appalled by the death chants against the Israel Defense Forces led by the rap duo Bob Vylan. 'It's horrifying and I can't bear it. Why didn't the BBC cut it off? I have gigantic sympathy with what's going on in Gaza, but I don't understand the mentality of those who tear down yellow ribbons [put up in solidarity with those kidnapped by Hamas on October 7 2023] and photos of hostages. I'm not Jewish, but my Jewish friends are very scared.' Barber has always been politically outspoken, briefly dallying with the Socialist Workers Party in her youth, and was a vocal protester against Margaret Thatcher during the 1980s. 'My generation, we hated Thatcher. The poll-tax riots, Brixton; we thought she was an abomination.' Yet, earlier this year, she voiced the Iron Lady in When Maggie Met Larry, a Radio 4 drama about Thatcher's covert campaign at the start of her political career to remodel her voice, for which she turned to Laurence Olivier for advice. In researching Thatcher, Barber found her opinions starting to shift. 'I still don't agree with anything she did, but she believed in every single thing she did and said, and she communicated that to the public,' she says. 'She was a working-class girl from Grantham, which was thrown in her face over and over again [by her fellow MPs], yet even though she had changed her voice, that's why people loved her because she felt one of them. Trump recognises this quality, but he's the only politician who does. Everyone else these days speaks like a focus group. Even Farage. And no one says what they really think. Everything is a U-turn.' These days, Barber is a firm moderate. She tweeted in outrage when Keir Starmer last year removed Thatcher's portrait from his study in No 10. 'I thought that was petty. She was a prime minister, she achieved a huge amount, whether you agree with her or not. That sort of point-scoring appeases no one. I want all my politicians to be bigger than that.' She worries that Britain is in danger of losing its political identity. 'At heart, I'm a centrist. And Britain has always been a moderate country. Yet today it seems as though we can't talk to each other anymore. But extremes don't solve anything.' Barber, who has never married and has no children, grew up the fourth of six children on a Wolverhampton council estate and only thought about acting when a teacher at her grammar school suggested it. She studied drama at Bangor University, where she met and had a relationship with the director Danny Boyle and began her career in theatre, later joining the RSC, before branching into films, notably Hanif Kureishi's Sammy and Rosie Get Laid, and Prick Up Your Ears, opposite Gary Oldman. Roles in independent films and mainstream television followed, including Doctor Who and Silk, plus a stint working in French cinema. 'I've always had a bit of a mercurial career,' she says airily. 'I was never the long, blonde ingenue, so it was easier to be a character actress. I was playing the mother of a teenager when I was 25. I thought at the time, 'I'll never get to play Juliet'. Now, I'm delighted I never did.' There's certainly never been anything of the ingenue about Barber, who on stage and screen excels at combining sexual playfulness with a certain gimlet froideur. Later this year, she revives one of her most irrepressible creations, Billie Trix – the fictional rock chick dreamt up by Jonathan Harvey for the Pet Shop Boys musical Closer to Heaven, who, thanks to the solo show Musik, now has a spin-off life of her own. Barber describes Trix as a 'crazed old rock star who may or may not be telling the truth about anything'; with her rebel spirit and raddled cool, Trix also sits in a Venn diagram with Debbie Harry, Nico and Marianne Faithfull. 'People love Billie because she is still doing what she was doing at 20, still snorting cocaine, breaking the rules,' says Barber, who has been anxiously practising getting up off the floor in high heels ahead of Musik's run at Wilton's Music Hall, in London, in October. 'Look at Lulu and Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood at Glastonbury, with a combined age of something ridiculous and yet still having a ball. As someone said, they've probably lived on a diet of cigarettes and Jack Daniel's, and yet they looked amazing. I do think the younger generation, who are into clean living, don't break so many rules. And you think, 'Why is it frowned upon when women my age behave inelegantly?' But the thing is, women my age have everything to celebrate.' There's a streak of similar defiance in Dolly, who always looks as though she's about to crack open a bottle of whisky regardless of where she is. Barber defends Whitstable Pearl against those who might dismiss it as yet another TV cosy-crime snooze. 'Not so long ago, you couldn't turn on the TV without seeing a woman being dismembered in a gritty thriller. I was repulsed by that, and I do think it normalised [a certain level of violence against women] in some way,' she says. 'So thank God we seem to be over that. The news is so horrible, it's nice to watch something that's a little bit relaxing. And I know in America, they really hate Scandi noir. Because that's their reality. They live it.' Barber also has a recurring role in The Chelsea Detective, a tougher police procedural starring Adrian Scarborough. In one episode, the murderer of a pop star was found to be lurking within the police force. Does Barber feel something has changed in the way we think about those responsible for catching criminals in the wake of the murder of Sarah Everard? 'I do feel we are in a massive pickle in this country when it comes to the police. We used to believe we could trust them, and that's been taken away from us. So it's no surprise when you see crime drama going in that direction. It has to reflect the reality. Ninety per cent of the police force is good, but the distrust that now exists towards them has to be tackled.' Barber remains frantically busy – she's just completed filming her first horror film, while another movie, A Mother for an Hour, is in post-production. She can't imagine not working. Nor, you sense, can she imagine quietly withdrawing to the shadows. 'I've just finished a small independent film in which I played a little old woman in a nursing home, smoking spliffs in the corridor. Ian [McKellen, the pair are great friends] told me, 'It's only a matter of time'.' You can well believe it. Even in retirement, Barber will almost certainly still be breaking all the rules
Yahoo
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Heidi Klum Shares New Bikini-Clad Selfie With Her Husband Tom Kaulitz
The Gist Heidi Klum's latest bikini-clad selfie features her husband Tom Kaulitz. She and the German musician have been married since 2019. Klum recently debuted Klum continued her swimsuit pic streak on Thursday, sharing a new post to Instagram. The supermodel poses alongside her husband, Tom Kaulitz, in the sweet selfie. "What day is it? 👙🥰❤️☀️🌴💦🐠❤️😎," Klum wrote. The former Victoria's Secret Angel models a baby blue bikini and a straw bucket hat in the seaside snapshot. Klum married Kaulitz, a German musician, back in 2019. On Tuesday, Klum shared a clip of herself on the beach in a brown string bikini. "Every day 👙☀️ 🌴and ❤️🥰," Klum captioned the post. She paired her two-piece with round sunglasses and full fringe, which she debuted last month. Klum's new look serves up some edgy '70s rocker vibes. But while it may be a big change from her recent long layers, it's hardly her first bangs rodeo. Back in 2021, Klum shared a video of herself cutting her own bangs on Instagram after her husband told her that it was his favorite hairstyle. 'This is clearly not a how-to video,' she said in the clip. Earlier in June, Klum celebrated her son Johan's high school graduation. "Cheering you on today and every day ❤️ CONGRATULATIONS JOHAN 🎓🥳🙏❤️ my heart is full of joy and pride ❤️❤️❤️❤️," Klum captioned an Instagram carousel. She also captured a video of Johan walking across the stage to receive his diploma, as well as a clip of her kissing him on the cheek. The America's Got Talent judge shares Johan, Henry, and her daughter Lou with her ex-husband Seal. She was married to the singer from 2005 to 2014. Klum also has a daughter named Leni with her former boyfriend Flavio Briatore, though Seal adopted her in 2009. Read the original article on InStyle
Daily Mail
a day ago
- Daily Mail
ROBERT HARDMAN: Rocks, petrol bombs and cries of Allahu Akbar - and proof Starmer's new deal to stop the small boats is already doomed
Dawn has yet to break and the rocks are already flying, followed by blazing bits of rubbish. The French police in riot gear are doing their best to hold the line, launching tear gas at the 50 rioters who then turn their attention to the parked car belonging to Mail photographer, Roland Hoskins. With repeated cries of 'Allahu Akbar', they hurl a 20-litre plastic tank of petrol next to the car and then throw flaming projectiles at it in the hope it will explode. Roland runs out from behind the police lines, kicks the tank aside and manages to drive his car to safety as the battle rages on. This is not some lawless inner city sink estate. It is Gravelines, a sleepy (and, at 5am, sleeping) French seaside town which happens to be one of just 287 in all of France to boast the highest four-rosette rating in the nation's annual 'Ville Fleurie' contest for the prettiest communities. Right now, though, it is more like a jihadi war zone. And it's all because of a rubber dinghy. These rioters have been trying to launch an illegal inflatable and sneak 70 migrants across Britain, netting another six-figure sum for the human traffic gangs who despatch up to a dozen of these boats each day. The smugglers are currently enjoying their best year ever – with more than 22,000 illegal entries to the UK thus far. With this punctured boat confiscated and on the back of a police truck, the rioters finally concede defeat and vanish into the dunes (with no arrests). Sadly, though, yesterday's police victory was very much the exception, not the rule, as I have learned during my trip to Gravelines this week. The town is a pocket of old-world charm next to the vast industrial complex of Dunkirk. This year is the 85th anniversary of Operation Dynamo, the heroic evacuation of the British Army after the fall of France. Now, a new fleet of 'little ships' are back on the coast around Dunkirk performing exactly the same role, but with a very different clientele. They used to call these migrants 'les clandestines' back in the days when the smugglers hid them in the back of a lorry. There is nothing remotely clandestine about them any more. This is brazen lawlessness on an epic scale. Rewind to the same part of Gravelines the previous morning. I have been here for all of five minutes when an outburst of Middle Eastern shouting is followed by the 'thwup!' of a 30ft inflatable people-smuggling boat with a huge outboard engine being dropped in the water. The first passengers jump aboard. This is not happening on some remote stretch of windswept beach either. I am in the town centre on the banks of a canal between a main road and the smartest restaurant in Gravelines, L'Eclusier. It is too early for breakfast here but this £1,500-per-person boat will be in Dover in time for brunch, having stopped off en route at a nearby beach to pick up more fare-paying passengers, including plenty of Afghans (the current nationality du jour) plus assorted Vietnamese, Sudanese, Palestinians and Eritreans. They will include four women and two young children but this will be, overwhelmingly, a cargo of young male adults. 'We are all the world!' shouts one passenger, and he has a point. It's why this service has a new name, one which is instantly understandable in every language the world over. They don't call this a 'boat'. They call it a 'taxi'. To listen to last week's bullish tones at the Franco-British summit between President Macron and Sir Keir Starmer, you might imagine that sights like this were a thing of the past. We have been assured French police will now intervene up to '300 metres offshore' to 'stop ze boats'. This is in addition to a 'one-in, one-out' scheme whereby Britain can return rejected asylum-seekers to France in exchange for equal numbers of pre-approved asylum-seekers. On which point, I find miraculous agreement across the board, from the migrants, the charity sector and the French police to Nigel Farage. All are adamant: it is not going to make the slightest difference. So say the locals, too. Expert migration lawyer, Olivier Rangeon, tells me that the new '300 metre' rule still needs European Commission clearance. And, besides, the police have told him they cannot enforce it. 'It's not safe and the migrants are too numerous.' I meet Bertrand Ringot, who has been mayor of Gravelines for 25 years through multiple migrant crises on this coast. 'The only way to resolve the situation is for Britain to reduce its attraction to the migrants and to become more like France,' he says. Nor is he some hardline Right-winger, but a proud member of France's Socialist Party. 'We believe in humanity but with firmness,' adds this 59-year-old ex-member of the French rowing squad. 'Britain needs more severe rules. And, of course, identity cards.' Back at the canal, I seriously wonder if this latest boat will ever reach the sea, let alone to England. The skipper is an utter moron. He reverses the boat straight into the canal wall and it bounces off again just as two men try to jump in. They land in the water inches from the propeller and there is much Arabic shouting. Captain Calamity is still trying to circle round for another go when a blue flashing light tells us the cops are finally on their way. He realises it's time to head for sea. Pronto. We know exactly where the boat taxi is going next – up the canal, out to sea and round to Plage de Petit-Fort-Philippe. This is two miles of beach next to Gravelines and France's largest nuclear power station. It is flanked by sand dunes and bushes, a perfect waiting area for the migrants. Even as we wait to see our boat, a much larger overloaded migrant dinghy is setting off with around 100 on board. Its engine will have enough petrol to get the boat into UK territorial waters whereupon the fuel supply will deliberately run out, forcing the UK authorities to rescue them. A coastguard speedboat keeps an eye on them but makes no effort to intervene, let alone uphold French maritime law. This clearly states that anyone operating an outboard above six horsepower must pass the test for a boat licence called a 'permis bateau', on pain of arrest and/or a fine of €1,500 (£1,300). This engine is at least 40 horsepower. As Reform leader Nigel Farage tells me later: 'Every dinghy should be stopped by the French as any private person would be.' However, the coastguard just waves them off. There is absolutely no chance that Captain Calamity has a 'permis bateau'. But, as he comes into view, the coastguard makes no attempt to check him out either. Whereupon a small army suddenly comes swooping down from the dunes – instantly visible in bright orange lifejackets fresh from the local supermarket. Three smugglers are in charge, each covering his face with a black and white Arab keffiyeh, and trying to keep a semblance of order. As the taxi boat gets within wading distance, a smuggler waves the first group forward, including all the women. Far behind them all, I suddenly spot a family of four coming across the sand. Karwan and Sara Izadi, and their two children, Mohammed, six, and Alina, four, have none of the gung-ho confidence of the young men. Sara is in tears. Karwan appears to be hesitating. They briefly explain they are from Iran, have come via Turkey and Germany, and have spent more than a week living in the dunes waiting for their taxi boat. Either they have paid well over the £1,500 entry-level price or the other migrants are being chivalrous but the Izadis go straight to the front of the queue. Two smugglers hoist the children on their shoulders as the parents follow, their mother now up to her armpits in water. It takes half an hour to fill the boat but there are no police to be seen throughout. As Calamity points his bow vaguely in the direction of England, the coastguard crew come alongside. Are they actually going to check Calamity's papers? Of course not. They want to hand extra lifejackets for the migrants who never got round to buying one. The dozens of punters who failed to get on board today trudge back to the dunes. Some try to remonstrate with the traffickers but there seems little in the way of a complaints department at People Smugglers Inc. I try to talk to those who must wait for another day. One is Kuwaiti. A trio are Palestinian. Where from? 'Gaza.' I ask how they managed to get out of there and they bristle instantly. 'Are you Hebrew?' asks one, before a smuggler barks orders that no one is to talk to the press. It is 6:37am French time and the action is over for another day. Captain Calamity clearly manages to get picked up in British waters because, at 10:35 UK time, the Mail spots the Izadi family stepping off the Border Force patrol boat, Defender, at the Jetfoil Terminal in Dover Harbour, the reception point for migrants. It's been five hours door to door. That's not dissimilar to a Calais-Dover ferry crossing in high season by the time you add in the queues and customs checks. The British Government later confirms today's arrivals: six small boats and a total of 398 new 'irregular migrants' in need of board and lodging. Back in France, I still want to see if Sir Keir's 'crackdown' is hitting morale. It seems not. 'I will be in England soon,' says Ahmed Babeker, 24, from Sudan, who arrived here via Turkey. He is buying food at the makeshift camp in the woods near Loon-Plage. It's a rough spot. A Yemeni migrant was shot here the other day and a British photographer was chased off at knife point last week. But Ahmed is cheerful. 'Each week my family pay a little more,' he tells me, explaining that he has been here since November, waiting for his loved ones to pay a gang the requisite sum via the ancient money exchange system, 'hawala'. Once the account is settled, he'll be on his way. His plan? 'I want an education and then I want to be an electrical engineer,' he says, 'maybe in Liverpool or Birmingham.' At a smaller camp in a disused Calais loading bay, I find another Sudanese migrant, Salah Abdul Salam. He has already been granted asylum in Sweden where he has lived for six years and had a pre-Covid job at McDonald's. He shows me his Swedish residency papers and ID card. However, he's had enough of Malmo. 'Sweden is too cold. I want to go England. The English system is good.' As Gravelines mayor, Bertrand Ringot argues that is the root of the issue. He talks me through the problems in his town, where the daily mess left by the migrants requires six extra cleaners, costing €300,000 (£260,000) per year; where many women and girls are too scared to travel on buses, which are free to all and often full of gangs of foreign youths; where people are fed up with strangers in their gardens gathering firewood and peeping through windows. 'My message to Starmer is: change the conditions for staying in England. Work with us in Europe and make it harder to work in England without a permit. This situation is a time-bomb.' In the meantime, the French could at least enforce their own laws. As mentioned earlier, their rules ban unlicensed use of engines over six horsepower, meaning they could simply apprehend illegal 'taxi' drivers and tow their boats back to port. That's just what happens in European waters, as I know to my cost. Last year, on holiday with my family in Sicily, I sailed my rented boat into an unmarked exclusion zone. I was suddenly apprehended by an Italian patrol boat, held for an hour and ordered to pay a €320 fine or else face arrest. I duly coughed up. We have all heard of 'two-tier' justice. But it is certainly not confined to Britain. It's alive and well here in northern France, too. Welcome to the 'deux etages plages'.
