Delight in the Dolomites and discover a real haven for hikers among the mountain pastures and forests of Val Gardena valley in South Tyrol…

If you’re looking for some wonderful walking this summer, pack your boots and head for Val Gardena valley (Gröden to the German-speaking section of its population) in Italy’s South Tyrol. The stunning landscape of mountain pastures, cool forests and pretty alpine villages stretches beneath the soaring peaks of the mighty Dolomites, providing a natural paradise for walkers. Already a popular winter sports destination, Val Gardena has much to offer its summer visitors too. One of the best ways of exploring this idyllic region is on foot. Walkers can discover trails to suit every ability, from a gentle stroll through the valley’s lush meadows to more challenging treks in the higher mountainous terrain. One of the most popular hiking regions is between the magnificent peaks of the Odle, the Sella Mountains and Alpe di Siusi (the largest high-altitude alpine meadow in Europe). And the unique six-hour trail around the Sasso Lungo massif affords fantastic views of almost all the mountain chains in the western Dolomites. Experienced guides are available for both the leisurely and more challenging routes. And wherever you walk, breathtaking scenery is guaranteed – the South Tyrol has eight nature reserves and one national park. Val Gardena’s climate helps to make a holiday here even more enjoyable in the summer months, and walking in the mountains is possible right up until mid-October.

Of course, walking isn’t the only way to get around here. Other great ways to explore the mountains include cycling along the many mountain bike trails and riding –just hop on an indigenous Haflinger pony. Or, if you feel like tackling something more extreme, why not try rock-climbing? Or try out the via ferrate, the iron rope system originally used to transport people and equipment in the First World War?

For those who want to just take it easy, Val Gardena is also a great place to relax and unwind. Visit the charming villages and check out the area’s world-famous wood-carvers. Enjoy delicious Italian coffee and sample the region’s excellent wines and food specialities such as Speck, the distinctive local ham, crafuncins (a form of ravioli), local cheese and tasty crafons (poppy seed pastries). Classical music concerts take place from July to September, and this summer there will be a celebration to mark the 20th anniversary of the death of Val Gardena’s most famous inhabitant, mountaineer and Hollywood-actor Luis Trenker, with film evenings, exhibitions and a themed walk to the locations where he filmed.

Some time ago, in Goa, I was with a group of British holidaymakers for whom this trip was a grand adventure. Greece was the farthest any of them had been hitherto. For most, the Costas of Spain were all they had experienced. They spent most of the fortnight lounging by the hotel pool, complaining about the price of wine in the restaurant, and the food, which was not what they had expected (having assumed it would be like the meals they ate in the flock-wallpapered familiarity of their local Indian restaurant). As it was a working trip, my colleagues and I departed every morning, returning late in the day with stories of our rides on steam trains, our encounters with villagers, our meetings with storytellers and street hagglers, our visits to tombs and temples, and of all the rich wonders that lay beyond the hotel grounds. With difficulty, we persuaded some of the group to hire a taxi and spend a day, or even just half a day, in nearby Panjim. We explained that, for about the equivalent of 50 pence, the driver would stay with them for as long as needed, and be on hand to return them to the hotel. A few took our advice, but one young lady returned saying everything was “awful, smelly and dirty”, and the best thing about the excursion was that she had found a Benetton shop “where everything was so amazingly cheap”. Some people you just can’t help.

I hope I’m not putting you off, for that is far from my intention. But India is not simply another tourist destination: it is an uncompromising assault upon all your senses. From the moment you step from the aircraft you will encounter unfamiliar sights and sounds, tastes and aromas. And though you will, of course, also encounter standards of service in hotels and restaurants that can stand comparison with the best, do not think that India will make any other concessions to your European tastes. A visit to India – the real, true India, which alone justifies your journey – is full of sights and experiences that will live in your memory for ever. But its jewels are to be found in a very rough setting. India has the Taj Mahal in Agra, the Pink Palace in Jaipur, the ornate palaces of the Maharajahs of Rajasthan, and the mind-blowingly elaborate – and explicit – carved temples at Khajuraho. It has, in the words of Indiaphile and Ramblers Worldwide Holidays tour leader Annette Cotter, “a timeless landscape that is almost biblical, an overwhelming richness of architecture, and a surfeit of faiths and religions”. It also has beggars and poverty and the casual cruelty of crowded city streets. India can break your heart at the same time as lifting your spirit. In fact, when I was asked to write about walking holidays in India, my first reaction was to refuse because I was afraid some readers would react like those Brits in Goa. But then I decided that most walk readers are likely to be of an inquiring, even adventurous, disposition, and prepared to take India as they find it. In the current jargon, you’d be ‘up for it’! The current all-inclusive holidays in the Ramblers Worldwide Holidays brochure are suited to the first-time visitor as well as someone who has sampled India and wants to build on that previous experience.

One 14-day deal, called Tigers, Temples and Ancient Cities, includes the almost obligatory Delhi/Agra ingredient and puts you on a train to Rajasthan for a three-night stay in Ranthambhore National Park, where the tigers of the title are to be seen. Then it’s on to Keoladeo National Park, which claims to be one of the most important bird-breeding and migratory areas in the world. A visit to Khajuraho’s ornate Hindu and Jain temples is also included in this holiday, which is classed as a UNESCO world heritage site. The ancient and sumptuous erotic carvings represent the sexual couplings of gods and goddesses, as well as humans, and leave little to the imagination with their graphic and gymnastic poses. However, in their proper setting and context, they are not shocking and quite beautiful. Southern India is another rewarding destination, and there is a Ramblers Worldwide Holiday that flies you to Bangalore and then takes you by road, rail and internal air service to Hassan, Mysore and Ootacamund. The latter is a hill town that the British, during the days of the Raj, would escape to from the summer heat, and its air of superiority and prim suburban architecture mean it’s still known as ‘Snooty Ooty’ today. The vast nature reserve at Kumarakom is next, then Cochin and, finally, Chennai (Madras) for the flight home. It is a 19-day trip, possibly best for a second or third-time visitor. When I met Annette Cotter recently, she had just returned from yet another visit to the country she loves so much. I suspect she has lost count of the number of visits over the last 25 years, but she was enthusing about an 18-day holiday she had been researching on behalf of Ramblers Worldwide Holidays. A Himalayan Odyssey isn’t yet in the brochure, but, having seen its itinerary, I’d advise you to watch out for it.

A two-week trip to India with Ramblers Worldwide Holidays (✆ 01707 331133, www.ramblersholidays.co.uk) starts at £1,955 per person, including return flights, transfers, half-board accommodation and the expert guidance of a tour leader.

For your chance to win a two-week walking holiday for two, worth approx £4,000, courtesy of Ramblers Worldwide Holidays (new brochure out now), simply answer
this question:  Since which year has Ramblers Worldwide Holidays supported the Ramblers? Complete the entry form online by 31 August 2010 or send your name, address and contact number to: Samos Competition, Ramblers Worldwide Holidays, Lemsford Mill, Lemsford Village, Welwyn Garden City, Hertfordshire AL8 7TR. The first correct entry picked at random after the closing date will win. Prize details and terms and conditions are available at www.walkmag.co.uk/competitions. Find out more about Ramblers Worldwide Holidays at www.ramblersholidays.co.uk

From the Black Forest to the Bavarian Alps, Germany isn’t exactly short of scenic hiking paths. So when one of them is not only voted the country’s loveliest trail of 2009 but is also certified a premium route by the German Hiking Institute – picking up the highest score of any long-distance path in the process – it’s got to be worth a look. The 184km/114-mile Saar-Hunsrück-Steig winds across the Hunsrück hills in west Germany, a region that’s bordered by the Mosel, Saar and Rhine rivers. The three-pointed trail runs from the Roman town of Trier to gemstone-rich Idar-Oberstein in the east, and down to the Saar Bow, where the river loops back on itself for 7km/41⁄2 miles. The route crosses the large Saar-Hunsrück nature park, a mix of villages, forest and nature reserves. It’s been popular since it opened two years ago; now roughly 10,000 people walk here each year, a sizeable number doing the whole thing from start to finish. That sounds wonderful, but it takes up to 12 days and I’ve got two and a half. The best section for a weekend’s hiking, I’m told, is towards the final stages of the Idar-Oberstein stretch, where jasper, agate and copper were once mined. The hamlet of Langweiler (it means ‘long village’ and also, unfortunately, ‘a bore’) has a hotel that sits right on the trail, whichcouldn’t be more convenient.

Storm-torn woods
It certainly looks inviting. A wide, mossy path leads through the forest to the nearby town of Morbach, a modest 6km/4 miles away, and I’m barely a dozen steps inside the tree line when I’m hit by the heady scent of pine. A hurricane-strength storm hit the region just under a month ago, closing parts of the trail for a couple of weeks. Fallen trees line the path, some pulled up by the roots, some snapped like twigs, but most trimmed and neatly stacked for collection by the local lumber yards. It’s peaceful now: a brook babbles away to my left, while a woodpecker drills industriously up ahead. With dense pine on all sides, there’s frankly not much to see. But then I round a bend and spot a viewing point overlooking ploughed fields and gently rolling hills, with Morbach itself down below. Reinvigorated, I press on, crossing a wooden walkway over Ortelsbruch moor and nature reserve. Signs detailing the local flora are dotted along the route and it seems a popular spot – as I make my way into town, I pass families and dog-walkers. It’s been a nice walk, but I feel sure there must be more to come. The next day doesn’t disappoint. Starting at Erbeskopf – the route’s highest peak at 816m/2,677ft – I head downhill, following the trail’s obvious blue and green signs on the 14km/81⁄2 miles back to Morbach through thick woodland. It’s different from yesterday: there are fewer pines and lots of century-old oak and beech. There’s a thick carpet of leaves underfoot, dappled patches of sunlight break up the shade and birds sing and flit across the path. The region is a bird-watcher’s paradise. Everything from jays, doves and woodpeckers to kingfishers, owls, red kites and ospreys can be found here, along with 29 breeds from the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, including hazel grouse, whinchat, woodcock and stonechat.

The path follows a fast-flowing stream, its clear waters fed by the last dusting of snow. After the coldest winter in 30 years, spring is finally in the air and the tightly furled buds on the trees aren’t far from bursting into leaf. Fine strands of cobweb glisten in the sunlight and, here and there, giant clam-like fungi colonise dead and fallen trees. I head uphill until I’m standing on a viaduct that 20 minutes ago I was admiring from below. Shortly down the disused railway is a fantastic view of the valley: evergreens to one side; oak, beech and birch to the other; and the stream running down the middle. Back on the trail, there’s a tantalising glimpse of the next view through the trees. But there’s plenty to see until I get there. Stone and wooden birdhouses hang on the trees and butterflies flit lazily past. The quiet is broken by a sudden cawing of crows overhead, then two startled deer burst across the path, their white tails flashing. Not long afterwards, the forest opens out into a wide meadow, where a few Hochsitze – literally, ‘high seats’ or raised wooden huts – stand by the tree line. Hunters use them during the season to bag deer, rabbit and boar. I scramble up one to admire the view: fields and villages stretch towards the horizon and distant wind turbines peek over the hills. It couldn’t be more peaceful; the only sound is birdsong. Passing between avenues of saplings that will one day be turned into lumber, I follow the signs and skirt past farms and around a village. The houses all look eco-conscious, with solar panels on the roofs and piles of firewood outside. Back into the forest. The now narrow path twists alongside a brook then up to another viewpoint. Finally, I join a loggers’ trail that takes me through a dense section of pine and down a narrow footpath into Morbach.

Ever-changing terrain
The variable nature of the Saar-Hunsrück-Steig is one of the reasons it’s so outstanding, certainly as far at the German Hiking Institute is concerned. It awards its prestigious Hiking Seal based on 34 different criteria, including beautiful views (check), clear and frequent signposts (check), an abundance of nature and points of interest (double check) and varied terrain (to score well, there has to be a change at least every 6km/4 miles: check). Even better, more than 70% of the trail is soft forest floor or grass paths and less than 5% is asphalt. Although the plant life is commonplace, the fauna includes wildcat, marten, badger, fox, two species of salamander, ring snake and blindworm. There are 20 bat species, too, from common pipistrelle and brown long-eared bats to the greater mouse-eared and greater horseshoe variety.

Accompanied by Caroline Conradt from the local tourist board, I set out across the fields and into the woods. We’re now on Germany’s Gemstone Route. “Mining took place here from the Middle Ages to the 19th century, ” says Caroline. “People still find stones – there are guided expeditions for enthusiasts. But even though the mines are just open to tourists, the gemstone industry is still important to the area. The stones are mostly acquired from the Middle East, then worked on by local experts. ” The route is more challenging here – a narrow path strewn with large quartzite rocks leads up a 620m/2,034ft hill to Kirschweiler Castle. “It’s not really a castle, ” explains Caroline, “as it’s made by nature. ” An impressive quartzite formation towers overhead, the moss and lichen-covered rocks standing twice as tall as we are. Through the mist we glimpse the fields and farms we’ve just covered on one side of the ridge, and a large reservoir on the other. On a clear day, we’d be able to see for miles. From here, it’s down a narrow track into the valley. The terrain is much softer: leaves are turning to mulch underfoot and ferns and half-a-dozen kinds of moss grow in abundance. A couple with an enthusiastic spaniel and a lone glove on a fencepost are the only signs of other ramblers. “The trail gets busier in the high season, ” says Caroline, “but it’s always peaceful. ” Crossing the busy road at the bottom of the valley, we start the gentle climb up the other side. The storm damage is worse here. While distant saws suggest the clean-up crew is on its way, we scramble over a few pines lying across the trail.

The final point of my trip is Wildenburg Castle, where a tower was originally constructed as a lookout station in the Middle Ages. The 674m/2,211ft reproduction may lack historical authenticity, but it looks like the real deal. And even through the mist, the view from the top is spectacular. I’ve covered about a sixth of the trail on my three walks – enough to get an idea of why it has stacked up all these accolades. “Winning these awards means more people come to walk here, and that’s important for the area, ” says Jörn Winkhaus, manager of the Hunsrück tourist office. “Thirteen towns along the route helped to pay for it, so things got quite political! But it has really paid off. ” But from my point of view, there’s a lot still to see: Roman architecture in Trier, medieval Grimburg Castle, the largest Celtic stone wall in central Europe, and who knows how many more great views? Germany’s best hiking route? I don’t doubt it. And I’m itching to come back again and walk it all.

Time/Distance: Allow up to 12 days to walk the entire 184km/114 miles of the Saar-Hunsrück-Steig, which is waymarked
clearly throughout.
Travel to: Ryanair flies to Frankfurt Hahn from London Stansted and Edinburgh. Langweiler is a 30-minute drive away.
Accommodation: Klosterhotel Marienhöh, a converted monastery, sits right on the Saar-Hunsrück-Steig (www.klosterhotel-marienhoeh.de). It also runs a shuttle bus service to and from interesting points in the area, as well as the airport.
Further info: www.saar-hunsrueck-steig.de, www.hunsruecktouristik.de.

“Yassas, yassas – kalimera, kalimera…” With these ancient Greek words of greeting hanging on the hot wind did we enter the tiny villages and hamlets that dot the great green amphitheatre, which stretches down from the central ridge of Samos to the island’s verdant north coast. They were spoken – nay, bellowed – by Rupert Mostert, who has been leading Ramblers Worldwide Holidays walks for more than four decades. The man is an expert on Aegean island hiking, speaks fluent Greek, lives in Athens, and is an all-round, larger-than-life, colourful character.

Rupert joined our walking group for just one day of the seven we spent on this most beautiful of Greek islands – but what a day it was. He took us on a fairly arduous 13-miler from a ridge near Platanos, in the centre of the island, down through endless vineyards, forests, gorse and river valleys to eventually reach the north coast near Neo Karlovasi. And in each of the remote communities, Rupert was greeted like a long-lost friend. Indeed, he did more greeting than being welcomed – carrying with him small presents for elderly country folk he’d known for years. He’d phoned ahead to one mountain village taverna to warn them we’d be walking by, and the owners had responded by baking a special cake. At another village, one of Rupert’s ‘girlfriends’ (who must have been all of 90, if not 103) insisted we should all traipse through her humble home, where we were each given an apple from her orchard. Rupert even managed to show us his party trick: carrying a kid goat for some local shepherd he’d known for decades. It was the only Samos walk on which I felt a twinge of exhaustion, but this was easily ignored thanks to Mr Mostert’s vast repertoire of anecdotes, local legends and Greek recipes.

Rooftop swimming
Our main guide for the week was quite different: an amiable retired geography teacher called John, who provided quiet and courteous company and leadership. The accommodation was in the pleasant, family-run Hotel Virginia situated in the pretty harbour town of Vathi. Small, clean and friendly, it was ideal for our purposes and my room had a balcony with fabulous views of the harbour. There was also a small rooftop pool; ideal for cooling off after a hot day’s walking. It was from Hotel Virginia that we set off each day for our treks. On a couple of occasions we simply walked from town and returned from our destination by taxi. But we also took public transport and once
had a special tour bus.

As for the scenery – well, I have travelled to most corners of Greece and I’d say that the island is one of the most attractive places in the whole of that ancient land. Its 184 square miles (43km/27 miles long, 13km/8 miles wide) are located close to the Turkish mainland. The mountain slopes tend not to be the parched, rocky affairs you see in so much of the Mediterranean – many are cloaked in cool woodlands, while others support the vineyards which produce famous wines. Life in the charming hillside villages doesn’t seem to have changed much in centuries. And the large and small communities that punctuate the coast may be slightly more attuned to the modern day, but are not overly developed. Samos was once a prime centre of Ionian culture and by the 7th century BC had become one of the leading commercial centres in the ancient world, thanks mainly to its position near major trade routes. Its navy ruled supreme and its towns were so sophisticated that people like Pythagoras, Aesop (of fable fame) and the philosopher Epicurus all lived here.

Aqueducts and monasteries
The rich sense of history stays with you everywhere you go on the island. You can be on a mountainside and come across an ancient spring that’s served by a cobbled path laid when our Stonehenge was built. One day we walked across the hills to the little port of Pythagorion (named after the classical philosopher) and visited the astonishing Eupalinos underground aqueduct. Nearly a mile long, it was constructed in the 6th century BC. The walk took us 10km/6 miles from the hilltop village of Mytillini, down through lush agricultural vales, and up to the Agios Triados monastery, where an ancient monk invited us into the cool courtyard to eat our picnic. After our break, we continued to the bleached mountainsides of the south coast. As with most of our walks, this route was completed by early afternoon, allowing us plenty of time to relax on a beach. And what wonderful beaches Samos boasts. My favourite seaside spot was the astonishingly picturesque port of Kokkari on the north coast, which we reached after a long, sometimes steep, walk up to – then down from – the mountain village of Vourliotes. We finished in time for a late lunch in one of the many tavernas that line the quaint harbour. Lunching in tavernas on quaysides is one of the greatest pleasures to be had in the Greek islands. Most days I shared selections of mezze (the Greek version of tapas) with my fellow walkers – all friendly, like-minded people. But after his earlier star turn, it was difficult not to hanker for another entertaining local anecdote from Rupert to go with my tasty olives and grilled cheeses.

A one-week trip to Samos with Ramblers Worldwide Holidays (✆ 01707 331133, www.ramblersholidays.co.uk) starts at £725 per person, including return flights, transfers, half-board accommodation and the expert guidance of a tour leader. Walk the world and help the work of the Ramblers, too – Ramblers Worldwide Holidays’ charitable trust is a major contributor to the Ramblers.

For your chance to win this one-week walking holiday for two, worth more than £1,400, courtesy of Ramblers Worldwide Holidays, simply answer this question: Ramblers Worldwide Holidays has a choice of over how many walking and trekking holidays? Complete the entry form online by 1 June 2010 or send your name, address and contact number to: Samos Competition, Ramblers Worldwide Holidays, Lemsford Mill, Lemsford Village, Welwyn Garden City, Hertfordshire AL8 7TR. The first correct entry picked at random after the closing date will win. Prize details and terms and conditions are available at www.walkmag.co.uk/competitions. Find out more about Ramblers Worldwide Holidays at www.ramblersholidays.co.uk

Twenty years ago I took a walk in paradise, so I thought it was time to go back and see if it had changed. Would the cascading waterfalls still be
there? Would the thick green forests have been cut down? Could I still walk through the deep valleys and canyons, echoing with the sound of birdsong and flowing streams? I needed to know that Slovensky´ raj – or ‘Slovak Paradise’ – hadn’t been lost.

It was shortly after Czechoslovakia’s Velvet Revolution in 1989 – the peaceful overturning of the Soviet government that followed the collapse of the Berlin Wall – when my girlfriend and I visited the country. We were there as freelance journalists to document the state of the environment, having heard reports of widespread pollution under the former communist regime. While travelling around and interviewing people, I was offered the chance to visit Slovensky´ raj, which had recently been designated a national park. So, with my two newly found friends, Roman and Dasa – university students from Prague – I took the night train across the country. We travelled ‘student class’ on the overcrowded carriage, taking it in turns to sit down and get some rest. The next morning, having not slept a wink, we set off on a walk that continued over 23km/14 miles into the park.

Along the way, Roman and Dasa talked about their hopes for the future after the collapse of communism, and their worries about the changes ahead. What would become of this and the country’s other national parks? Would they continue to be protected, or would the forests be logged when the land was returned to private ownership? That night we stayed in a wooden hut on a campsite at Podlesok, in the north of the park – and to my surprise it was still there two decades later. The campsite itself, though, had expanded hugely with new restaurants and souvenir kiosks. Visitor numbers to Slovensky´ raj have risen by over a third since communism, when its 600,000 annual visitors were mostly made up of students and wilderness enthusiasts – sometimes camping illegally inside the park. Now, having split from the Czech Republic in 1992, Slovakia’s population is wealthier than ever before, and more and more people choose to go hiking here in their leisure time.

Canyons and waterfalls
One of nine national parks in Slovakia, Slovensky´ raj is smaller and less dramatic than the better known High Tatras, whose peaks reach over 3,000m/10,000ft compared with Slovensky´ raj’s 1,000m/3,000ft hills. But the beautiful central mountain range it protects is home to over 370km/230 miles of hiking trails among spectacular forested canyons, waterfalls and caves. For the first walk on my return to the park, I decided to re-trace a trip Roman, the others and I had done along the Hornád river, which runs east of the Podlesok campsite.

The blue markers and direction signs made it easy to find again. But this was not easy walking: the interpretation boards at the park’s entrances (now in English as well as Slovak) warn you to be prepared with proper walking boots, and I would add a reasonable degree of fitness as well. The muddy path was initially criss-crossed by tree roots, with wooden ladders and iron walkways later on involving the occasional scramble, making it a difficult walk by British standards. Yet this was nothing compared with what was to come. Around the steepest parts of some limestone cliffs, the path became a series
of metal-runged plates with a chain handrail suspended 15m/50ft above the river below. While being cautious, it felt reasonably stable; my memory from 20 years ago was that it was capable of collapsing at any moment. Most of the walkways in the park now appear to have been replaced, but they do sometimes still wobble in their fixings bolted into the rock-face.

After around 4km/21⁄2 miles, I turned off the blue-marked trail to explore the deep valley of Klastorska Roklina. Following the green markers this time, the route passed through a steep gorge whose walls eventually narrowed to within a few metres either side of me. Metal ladders took me up waterfalls that would be impossible to pass without climbing equipment – I counted 50 rungs on one ladder, spaced a foot-or-so apart. Like several gorges in the park, this was a one-way route which only permitted you to walk upwards. Despite the modest altitude, the effects of heat inversion in these deep limestone ravines results in a habitat more akin to high mountains, with mosses, lichen and butterflies more common in alpine environments all found here. It’s one of the main reasons the park was first designated, and the 11 national nature reserves and eight nature reserves within it are usually off-limits to the public, with frequent reminders for walkers to stay on the marked paths.

At the top of the Klastorska Roklina gorge, the forest gave way to a big meadow and a mountain café. It had been rebuilt since my last visit, and was much improved, along with the food and the service (never a communist strong point). Taking first the red route back to the Hornád river, I then continued along the blue trail to eventually ascend the side of the valley up to Tomasovsky Vyhlad – a 680m/2,200ft-high shelf of rock that makes for a magnificent viewpoint. The sheer cliff drops almost 200m/650ft to the river below, with forest spreading out all before you. It was just as I had remembered it. While Slovakia has – like its Eastern European neighbours – been exporting a lot more timber in recent years, the wholesale logging of huge areas that Roman and Dasa feared has thankfully not happened. As if to confirm the forest’s rude health, on the 8km/5-mile walk back to the campsite I disturbed red deer, saw two lesser spotted eagles searching for a roosting site in the fading light, and watched a black woodpecker digging in a tree for insects.

Free-roaming wildlife
While many conservation laws were at times flouted during Czechoslovakia’s communist rule (usually by high-ranking government officials), the state-owned national parks provided a stability that has kept Slovak wildlife relatively safe. In fact, under communism, brown bears were brought back from near extinction, with numbers as low as just 30 in the 1920s; the current bear population stands around 700 (the Slovak Wildlife Society runs bear-watching trips in English – see www.slovakwildlife.org). With more than 20% of Slovakia under some form of protection, large carnivores like the bear, wolf and lynx still roam wild, and there’s a degree of natural balance that disappeared long ago in the UK. However, in the nearby Low Tatras NP I watched as mechanical diggers ripped away at the supposedly protected hillside, constructing a new ski slope. Two other new ski runs were recently built in the High Tatras NP – in one case right through a colony of protected marmots. It seems remarkably short-sighted. Many of Slovakia’s – and indeed Europe’s – ski slopes will soon become redundant due to global warming, so what is the point of building more? It’s a situation Bedrich Hajek, the director of Slovensky´ raj, is keen to avoid, having spent 30 years working to protect the park.

“I have seen what has happened in the High Tatras and will not let that happen here,” he said. “Our biggest problem is tourism numbers and their physical effect on the park. Over the years we have even closed trails to help conserve wildlife – particularly the bears. We don’t plan to build any more.” Roman and Dasa would be delighted to hear the park is in such safe hands. The last time I heard from my two friends, Roman was an ecologist working for a Czech national park, and Dasa was a top official in the Czech Ministry of Environment. As for me, I eventually married a Slovak and regularly visit this beautiful country with our two children. I hope they too will be able to return to a Slovak Paradise that has remained wild and untamed for another 20 years.

Time/Distance: Allow around 9 hours to do the 18km/11-mile circular walk described above. Paths are colour-marked. Direction signs indicate time rather than distance, and assume you walk briskly without stopping. Entrance to the park costs €1.50 per day. Good walking maps are available from local shops.
Travel to: Several low-cost airlines fly to Slovakia. Alternatively, a train from London to Bratislava, via Brussels, Köln and Vienna, takes just under 24 hours and costs around £200 per person. For more info, visit www.seat61.com
Travel around: To get to Slovenský raj, take a train to Poprad, then a train to Vydrnik – the park is a 5km/3-mile walk.
Further info: www.slovensky-raj.sk or www.limba.com for accommodation.

I know it may sound strange, rambling in a city, but there’s really no reason why a ramble should have to be a rural activity. How often have you paused on a walk to admire an uplifting view of distant hills? Who’s to say that a magnificent building — museum, town hall or cathedral — should not inspire the same admiration? On a rural walk, you pause for refreshment in the corner of a sunlit field, or resting against the weathered stones of an ancient boundary wall. But your packed lunch is equally at home in a city park, and a quick break in a convenient snack bar won’t ruin your rambling mood. Obeying traffic signals is just like obeying the countryside code. And as long as you don’t ‘cheat’ by hopping on a bus or taking time off to go shopping, urban rambling is a rewarding occupation.

Impossible to get lost

I do it a lot — mainly in London. But if ever a city was designed for the activity, it’s New York. Its avenues run north–south, its conveniently numbered streets bisect them east–west, and it’s impossible to get lost if you have a decent map and a rudimentary sense of direction. That’s why I really fancy Ramblers Worldwide Holidays’ nine-day trip, which takes you around all five boroughs and is based in a modest but highly thought-of hotel on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. I’ve had varied experiences in New York hotels, including one I was booked into by accident that was more used to renting rooms by the hour. My assistant cameraman freaked out when he found a dead body in his room. I’ve also stayed at ultra-luxurious places, which provided all manner of expensive bells and whistles — and thanked my stars that I was on expenses at the time! However, I like the Hotel Newton, which is at 2528 Broadway Avenue. Although it boasts just two stars and has a very modest exterior, it’s one of New York City’s top mid-priced hotels. But you don’t have to take my word for it, because the Chicago Tribune, Los Angeles Times and Newsday have all said exactly that. It’s close to Riverside Park, Central Park and Columbus Circle — as well as the 96th Street subway station, which you use to get to various locations and the particular walks they provide. Using the subway to get quickly to your various starting points is definitely not ‘cheating’.

Manhattan and morris dancing

Although you spend the most time on Manhattan Island itself, the programme of half-day walks will take you to the Bronx and Brooklyn, to Queens and Staten Island. You’ll also go on a day trip to Irvington and the village of Cold Springs way up in the Hudson River Valley. At this point, you may be thinking you could manage an expedition like this by yourself. No doubt you could. But going with a group is more enjoyable, and having the services of a knowledgeable guide lets you take a hearty bite out of the Big Apple, discovering places and snippets of history you would probably otherwise miss. You’ll get to the Upper West Side, Midtown and the Garment District on one of the half-day excursions, taking in Times Square, the heart of theatre-land, and a ride to the top of the Empire State Building. You’ll go to Ellis and Liberty Islands (you can’t ignore the lady with the lamp when you’re in her city), and take the ferry to Staten Island (did you know there’s a nature reserve there?). You’ll also go to Harlem, where you can visit the famed Apollo Theater and the Studio Museum of Harlem and its displays of African-American art. Other walks will take you to Chinatown, Little Italy, Greenwich Village, Washington Square and Ground Zero. There’s so much to see in New York that one visit can’t do it justice, but the itinerary for this holiday literally covers more ground than any other I’ve seen. And remember that no matter how much you plan, the city will always surprise you. Once, I found a working brewery in a converted electricity sub-station on the southern tip of Manhattan. It brewed very strong ale and was run, of course, by an Englishman, who delivered the beer in wooden barrels to bars throughout Manhattan. He kept a dray and two shire horses for the purpose — they grazed in Battery Park when they weren’t working. On my next visit I’ve promised myself I’ll visit one of the morris dancing ‘rings’ that are based in the city. Morris dancing, real ale and rambling — who’d have expected to find all that in New York? Walk the world and help the work of the Ramblers too. Ramblers Worldwide Holidays’ charitable trust is a major contributor to the Ramblers.

The nine-day New York tour with Ramblers Worldwide Holidays (✆ 01707 331133, www.ramblersholidays.co.uk) starts from £1,275 per person, including flights, accommodation, breakfast and five dinners, plus the services of a dedicated group tour leader.

Click here for your chance to win a cruise and walk holiday like this one!

The view from the summit was suitably dramatic. Vast bays spread from east to west, the blue sea shimmering brightly. It was harvest in Jutland and the hills that stretched to the horizon were dotted with combine harvesters chugging back and forth. Many of the fields were narrow, retaining the medieval strip farming that’s still, rarely, found in the UK. We had climbed to the top of the highest hill in Mols Bjerge, Denmark’s newest national park. All 137m/450ft of it. Danish hikers looking for real mountain experiences must book a ticket to Greenland or one of their Nordic neighbours, but that’s not to downplay their own country’s appeal.

Mols Bjerge is located on the eastern edge of Jutland, and a network of paths totalling 100km/62 miles already snakes around the park, which is distinguished by a mixture of conifers, oak forest and dryland grass. To ‘bag’ the summit of Agri Bavnehøj took just eight minutes, but was part of a four-mile circular walk that began from the nearby village of Agri. We had passed whitewashed thatched cottages, farms as neat and tidy as Legoland, unpaved tracks, solitary oak trees and gurgling streams. Poppies and other chalkland flowers grew wild in the fields. Two parks in two years Mols Bjerge, designated this summer, is only the second national park and is modest in size, at around 180 sq km/70 sq miles. The first, Thy (pronounced ‘chew’), on the west coast of Jutland, was created last year. Denmark was the last country in the EU to designate any national parks, which may surprise those who perceive it to have green credentials, with its commitment to renewable energy such as wind power.

Part of the reason for this, according to Kim Egefjord of the Danish Forest and Nature Agency, was that existing planning legislation offers strong protection to designated areas. “Denmark is an intensively cultivated country,” he says. “But the wildlife was very fragmented and there needed to be more attention paid to nature. Denmark goes around the world with a good environmental reputation. But we looked closer to home and saw that there was a need for a higher level of environmental protection.” Securing the boundaries of Mols Bjerge National Park has proved problematic, with farmers wary that inclusion would require them to change land practices and secondhome owners hostile to the idea of hikers and day-trippers diluting their tranquillity.

“People are always wary,” says Egefjord, who studied national parks in the UK and elsewhere in Europe to establish how to implement policy in Denmark. “They don’t see what the benefits are, or understand that a lot of urban people will spend money to come and walk and explore the parks.” Despite these concerns, access is generally not the same source of contention that it can be in the UK. Denmark does not share the concept of Allemansrätten that allows walkers in Sweden and Norway to walk pretty much anywhere they wish, but the rules are relaxed. On public land, you can walk anywhere, anytime — with seasonal exclusions for ground-nesting birds — while on private land, you can walk with similar freedom between 7am and sunset. Rare dune heathland Matters proved more straightforward 208km/130 miles away in the wilderness of north-west of Jutland, where Thy became the country’s first national park last year.

The walking here can be thrilling, more elemental than in Mols Bjerge. The park comprises 24,400ha and runs for 70km/44 miles from north to south, encompassing the most north-westerly part of Denmark. It is dominated by sub-Atlantic dune heath, a rare ecosystem in which sand dunes pervade the entire landscape — from conventional dunes pummelled by Atlantic westerlies, to dune heathland and dune forests. Dig deep enough anywhere hereabouts and you’ll find golden sand. “Just 200 hectares of Thy is cultivated,” says Ib Nord Nielsen, a ranger for the north of the park. “You can’t farm here as the land is too poor, so it was easy to decide the borders of the park. They begin and end where you can farm — nature drew them for us.”

Thy is home to two sensational wildlife areas, both of which enjoy access to viewing points during the height of the breeding and migratory seasons, and book-end the national park with lonely lighthouses. In the south lies Agger Tange, home to vast colonies and flocks of redshank, oystercatchers and lapwing. And in the far north lies the Hanstholm Nature Reserve. To explore the reserve, I struck out along the forest trail through conifers through the Tved plantation, eventually reaching a clearing overlooking Bleb Sø, a lake symmetrically rimmed with marshland. Red deer patrolled the wooded, leeward banks of the dunes, while two cranes were perched on stumps of trees in the wetlands, trumpeting to each other. Suddenly, a couple of thousand greylag geese erupted as one from the lake, circled mournfully above me and settled once more.

Another, shorter walk, starting near the road that links the towns of Thisted and Hanstholm, makes its way to the remote church of St Christopher, which dates from 1100. It was the centre of the community in the Middle Ages, but the encroaching dunes forced villagers to move east, leaving the church behind in splendid isolation. Inside, a 16th-century chalk painting depicts Adam and Eve in a dune landscape.

“Nature is the main course in the national parks, but they are also about culture and history,” said Nord Nielsen. Across both parks you can stumble upon ancient burial sites, some from 4,000 years ago. Short-walks culture A long-distance trail, the 70km/44-mile Vestkyststien, runs close to the coast for the full length of Thy. This is quite unusual in Denmark where — perhaps, again unexpectedly — the appetite for walking is generally sated by short hikes. I had started to wonder about this after completing the 6km/4-mile walk around Agri Bavnehøj, where we arrived back at the car park to find Danes who had already finished the walk puffing on cigarettes as they queued to buy the ubiquitous polser, or hotdog, from a fast-food outlet.

“People in Denmark run and cycle a lot, but they don’t really go for long-distance walks,” explains Kim Egerfjord. “Walking is not really a Danish speciality. We tend to like to walk for a mile or so from the car park, often with family.” Despite this predilection, there is already a 100km/63-mile route, the Molsruten, which links Århus — the main city on Jutland, 19km/30 miles to the west of Mols Bjerge — to Grenå, a town on the east coast, which ploughs through the national park. And as part of the footpath developments underway, a 27km/17-mile trail, linking Kalo Castle in the east of the park to the main town of Ebeltoft, will be built. In both parks, waymarking and signposting remains embryonic, although this is changing quickly as physical signs are placed on the ground.

In the four days I spent walking in Denmark’s new national parks, I found myself charmed by all they had to offer. On my last afternoon back in Mols Bjerge, I walked out across a causeway to Kalo Castle, a spectacularly broken ruin marooned in the northernmost of the snug bays that distinguish eastern Jutland. On my return, I followed the path across the road and meandered up a track for a mile or so through a delightful broad-leaved forest. I suddenly found myself just two metres from a buzzard, unusually sitting on a low branch and evidently just as surprised to see me as I was him. It flew off a few metres, settling on another branch, and kept flitting back and forth across the hedgerows as I walked up the track.

“If you are expecting mountains like the Pyrenees then the reality is you’ll have to go to the Pyrenees, not Denmark, to see them,” says Egefjord. “Denmark is ‘soft walking’. You’re not going to get lost in an exposed area as you can in Norway. Although there is solitude to be found, you’re never too far away from a village, or a campsite. But if you are interested in different cultures, our history, and scenery that’s a little different from what you have at home, then you should come here.”

Travel to: Train fares from London to Århus, the closest town to Mols Bjerge national park, start at £263 return per person (✆ 0844 848 4070; www.raileurope.co.uk). Travel around: Denmark has a good rural bus based public transport network. Local tourist offices can supply timetables and advice on connections in English. Further info: www.nationalparker.skovognatur.dk. You can also visit the website for the Danish Ramblers Association (www.dvl.dk), which has a useful English-language section and a downloadable map of the Molsruten trail between Århus and Grenå.

There is something undeniably grand about arriving in town aboard a large, gleaming cruise liner. You feel like the king of the castle as you glide into the dock in a stately manner. After almost two days at sea, I and 25 other ramblers were getting ready for our first walk along the streets of Copenhagen. Ahead of us lay some 10 days of crisscrossing the Baltic from city to city, walking in Stockholm, Helsinki, St Petersburg, Gdańsk and on Rügen island in Eastern Germany – as well as this first stop in Denmark.

Danish mermaids
Copenhagen treated us to blazing sunshine as we first set foot on Danish soil. The largest city in Scandinavia, with an easy-going atmosphere, Copenhagen is less stern and severe than some of its neighbouring capitals and is very stroller-friendly. Our guide, Anna, was in her element as we headed towards our first stop on our grand city walking tour: a harbour statue of the Little Mermaid of Hans Christian Andersen fame. To my surprise, I found that she has a much larger, more voluptuous and very impressive sister, outside a nearby restaurant! The tour turned into a 13km/8-mile hike exploring the different parts of the city, from the Royal Palace (Amalienborg) and the curvaceous Marble Church, to the bustling area of Nyhavn and Tivoli Gardens.

Stockholm wasn’t showing its prettiest side when we arrived at our next destination – sheets of rain blighted the view on the morning we docked. But it’s not like ramblers to be deterred by bad weather, so we set off to experience the Swedish capital. Built on 14 main islands, with hundreds more dotting the archipelago, Stockholm is magical in any weather. Our walk from the dock in Södermalm, the southern part of town, took us to Slussen (The Sluice) and into Gamla Stan (The Old City). Dating back to the 13th century, the latter is the jewel in Stockholm’s crown: a mediaeval town of tiny, crooked alleyways, leaning buildings in rust and ochre, stately churches and cobblestone streets. There’s an abundance of souvenir shops as well, but they fail to diminish the city’s charm. There are cosy eateries, cafés and bars and a lively bustle about the main streets. But turn a different corner and you find yourself amidst tranquil solitude in some hidden-away courtyard, inviting quiet contemplation. After exploring Gamla Stan and catching the changing of the guards at the Royal Palace, the sun finally came out for our ‘sail away deck party’ as we cruised through the spectacular scenery of the archipelago on our way to Finland.

Palaces and paella
Helsinki has a more quiet, understated charm than its Nordic neighbours, and we saw the first signs of being closer to Russia – a country that ruled Finland for over a century until 1917. We walked around Helsinki’s main sights: from the stark Lutheran Cathedral to the harbour market selling gorgeous crafts and, bizarrely, reindeer paella. Then it was time to sail on towards Russia and our three-day stop in St Petersburg. Not only did we find the city packed with gorgeous 18th- and 19th-century buildings – many in the intricate Russian baroque style – but it was also St Petersburg’s birthday weekend with celebrations all around. Three days are nowhere near enough to see the splendours of the former Tsarist capital, but we had a few wonderful days scratching the surface of its many treasures. Peterhof, with the Summer Palace and its lavish gardens right on the Finnish Gulf, was perfect for a seaside picnic. The former prison of Peter and Paul Fortress and Cathedral was imposing and impressive, with a ‘gate of death’ that led to the city’s public beach. The Winter Palace and Hermitage Museum were both amazing, and the Nevsky Prospekt offered elite shopping for the prosperous. Then finally I had a day in Pushkin at the spectacular blue-and-gold Catherine Palace. With so much glorious grandeur on display, it’s no wonder the proletariat started that revolution…

A more modern revolutionary past greeted us in Gdańsk as we stood in front of the monument to Lech Walesa’s Solidarity Trade Union. We head to the heart of the old town, beautifully restored after the ravages of the Second World War. It’s the last of our city stops and we’re itching for a good country walk. So thankfully, on the island of Rügen we were let loose in Jasmund National Park: a beautiful forested area, where after a good solid hike we were served excellent hot chocolate in the park café. Sipping it in the sun, I briefly felt like nobility again – and there was still the voyage home to come.

The 13-day Baltic Discovery Cruise and Walk with Ramblers Worldwide Holidays (✆ 01707 331133, www.ramblersholidays.co.uk) starts from £1,375 per person, including Fred.Olsen cruise, all meals, all shore walking excursions and the services of a tour leader. Walk the world and help the work of the Ramblers too – Ramblers Worldwide Holidays’ charitable trust is a major contributor to the Ramblers.

Click here for your chance to win a cruise and walk holiday like this one!

Waterfalls and canyons
My local guide Arnar leads me up the steep steps beside Skógarfoss waterfall. From the top I can see that the sheer cliff-face extends for miles in each direction. Until recently this was all dramatic coastline. But in 1918, the eruption of volcano Katla to the north caused a glacier run so large that it spread rock and debris three miles out to sea, creating the verdant coastal plain that’s there today. Arnar shrugs and tells me Katla is still considered one of the country’s most dangerous volcanoes – not surprising since it’s more than a decade overdue to erupt again. Nearby communities are drilled to evacuate within hours of an eruption warning, but any hapless walker treading on the volcano’s flanks would have no chance of escape.

Ah well, if Arnar’s not worried then neither am I… For the next few hours we steadily ascend the riverside track over terrain that’s sparse and rocky. Only the green of simple, mossy grass and the ochre, weathered soil provide any colour. Every now and then we pass strange, altar-like earth formations, where powerful Atlantic winds have carved away at a hillock to leave a perfectly flat-topped feature. But most eye-catching of all are the waterfalls. Lots of them – over thirty in all – each worthy of a moment’s pause to marvel at the intricate patterns cut into the bedrock and stare into the great swirls of whitewater tumbling down from the snow-capped peaks in the distance. The higher up the valley we get, the more dramatic the canyons become, and eventually we arrive at one spectacular steep-sided example that plays host to hundreds of noisy cliff-roosting kittiwakes. From an exposed promontory, I can look down over 30 metres at the brilliant white-and-grey seabirds gliding through the rainbow spray, which billows up from the rapids beneath.

Arnar gently reminds me I need to stop rubbernecking and focus on walking if we’re to make it to our hut in Thórsmörk by evening. (It’s only later I realise that the 24-hour summer sunlight makes that urgency seem pretty irrelevant and he was obviously just getting bored.) As I start to spot the first patches of snow on the valley sides, we reach a crossing point over the Skógá. We refill our waterbottles in the river’s crystalline glacial waters and I become the very model of the pleasure/pain principle: gulping down the most refreshing drink of my life, while battling the twin pains of acute brain freeze and a marrow-chilled right hand. From here, a 4×4 track takes us over more level, rock-strewn ground. Out of the shelter of the river valley for the first time, the air temperature noticeably drops and the landscape drains gradually of colour into an alpine monochrome of grey scree and snow.

Among the glaciers
It’s not long before we reach the start of the mountain pass at over a kilometre up and draw level with the vast expanses of two glacier ice caps – Eyjafjallajökull and My´rdalsjökull – somewhere in the distances each side of me. I say somewhere, because with the midday sun blasting brilliantly off the snowy landscape, my perception of depth is completely distorted and my only marker is a small, A-framed mountain hut on the horizon. Once beyond it, we strike off the track and head steeply down into a great snow-filled hollow with a frozen lake at its centre. The only tracks to follow are from a trio of Nordic Walkers some way off in the distance, but my guide takes aim instead at a luminous yellow pole standing proud among a cairn of basalt rock on the other side of the basin. The crisp crunch of thick snow underfoot instantly stirs my inner child and I lob a snowball at Arnar, prompting the tiniest of bored smirks. He doesn’t rise to it, so instead I take a good speedy run up and drop sharply to the ground on my arse, sledging down the slope until the ice in my fleece outweighs my forward momentum and I grind to a bum-numbing halt. Arnar bounds past me in bemused silence. I reckon he understands: some things just need to be done.

The patchwork of snowfields around us multiplies and then merges into a single, blinding quilt as we climb progressively higher. The surrounding vistas become more dazzling, too, with peak after peak sweeping north- and eastwards, and I catch my first classic view of a glacial snout on the western face of My´rdalsjökull. Then the apex of the pass was finally in sight; on the other side – like the first glimpse of a new continent – is the head of the breathtaking Thórsmörk valley. A great, snowless plateau lies several hundred metres below, with My´rdalsjökull bookending it to the east and sheer cliff faces dropping out of view to the west – this was going to be a thrilling final stretch home.

Into the hidden valley
A steep ridgeline descent brings us level with the plateau. But to get to it there’s a few hundred metres of exciting via ferrata to negotiate and then a scramble along an arête. It’s difficult to tell which is the more heartstopping while I do it: the perilous drops on either side of me or the stunning views they offer up and down the valley. The stroll over the plateau’s level ground afterwards is a welcome respite and feeds false hopes of a gentle descent to sea-level. Wrong! At the plateau’s edge our dirt track tumbles precipitously into several miles of knee-jarring glacier-forged canyons. Beyond it, though, glistening in the low sun is a silvery fan of rivers and streams spread across the faraway valley floor, drawing us on.

After just a few hundred metres, we tire of the punishing dirt path and bound off onto the more forgiving, springy green mosses that carpet the upper canyons and give toupées to the outcrops of rock towering above us, perfectly suiting their craggy old-man complexions. Bouncing down the moss like men on the moon (is that the faintest of grins on Arnar’s face?), we meet with another via ferrata down a tricky escarpment. After that, both the valley and ridgeline path narrow, with fixed ropes every half-a-mile taking us down into more temperate, sheltered climes. Immediately there’s an abundance of alpine plants: just hardy grasses and shrubs at first, then later whole flowerbeds of pink, purple and yellow flowers. Our oncoming view becomes restricted to each chink and turn in the hillside, so when we emerge from its final flanks, the sudden breadth of the valley floor is awesome. Appropriately named after the Viking god of thunder, Thórsmörk’s scale is reminiscent of a great Alaskan salmon run, with scores of ice-melt rapids crisscrossing the riverbed’s volcanic rubble. Protected from the world by glaciers on three sides, some of Iceland’s last remaining ancient woodland survives here and the only route in or out for vehicles is via the treacherous river. Simply put: it’s magical. And whether it’s knowing we’ve got all night to nurse a beer outside our hut and watch the sun not quite set on this beautiful scene, or pure pride at having shown me one of his country’s best-kept secrets, Arnar is definitely smiling now.

Time/Distance: It takes between 8 and 12 hours to walk the 23km/14 miles from Skógar to Thórsmörk. The weather varies from –5°C on the summit to over 20°C on the lower slopes. Expect rain or snow at any time of year.

Accommodation: Skógar – Hotel Skogar (www.hotelskogar.is). Thórsmörk – Basar Mountain Hut (www.utivisit.is/english).

Travel to: Icelandair (www.icelandair.co.uk) flies from London Heathrow, Manchester and Glasgow to Reykjavik.

Travel around: Skógar can be reached by bus from Reykjavik in approximately 3¼ hours; a return bus can be booked from Thórsmörk.

Further info: www.visiticeland.com

Beautiful beaches, a tiny chapel and “hedge veg”; Rosie Hayes explores the charming channel island of Guernsey

The magical thing about Guernsey is you can get straight off the plane and start walking. No tedious transfers, no highways or barren airport land. This charming channel island is a mere five miles by nine miles and it is possible to walk the entire coastal perimeter (around 30 miles) in a single day.

If exploring the entire island on foot is a little daunting the public transport system is great. Buses are 60p per journey (to absolutely anywhere) and can be flagged down at any point – no need to wait at the quirky bus stops painted on the roads.

Mid May is the island’s Spring Walking Week, a festival of over 40 guided walks, each with varying themes. This year has attracted over 1,000 people, a record number despite the temperamental weather. The walking festival occurs again in the autumn (in 2009 from 5-13 September) and both seasons are a wonderful time to visit.

Among the many sights Guernsey has to offer are an abundance of flowers and birds, pretty beaches that rarely get crowded and a charming, pedestrianised town centre with hotels and restaurants catering for all needs.

It costs £5 for each walk during the walking festival, yet those who venture on four or more get their entire money back (via sponsors Healthspan). A large percentage of walks are attended by Guernsey locals wishing to learn more about their island, though visitors and holiday-makers are made particularly welcome.

Eileen Schnell, a visitor from the UK, enjoyed five of the walks during spring walking week with her friend Daisy Keen. “It’s my first visit to Guernsey and I hadn’t heard of the walking festival until I arrived” she says, “We thought it would be nice to go on one of the coast walks to get a feel of the island, when we realised we could get our money back if we went on four walks we decided to do more. They have been fantastic and this one (the final “Round the Island” coastal walk) is our fifth!”

Unusually for this time of year the weather has been temperamental. “This certainly isn’t normal” local resident Mark Duncan says almost apologetically, gesturing to the torrential downpour prior to Saturday’s scheduled walk “Hidden Hedgerows and Food for Free” led by gold accredited guide Gill Girard. Luckily the rain stops in time for the 2pm start and the turnout is large – roughly 35 people – who meet in the sprawling grounds of the landscaped Saumarez Park.

Guernsey’s rural interior is in surprising contrast to the coastal edges; lush and agricultural with idylic farmhouses, tiny winding roads and small fields of famous Guernsey cows. The “Little Chapel”, possibly the smallest chapel in the world, is worth a visit. It was built by a monk in 1914 wanting to create a miniature replica of a grotto and basilica at Lourdes in France. It is beautifully decorated with seashells, pebbles and pieces of broken china.

Gill is struggling to be heard due to the size of the group, but many Guernsey locals are happy to talk about their island. The history of Guernsey is fascinating; it was occupied by German forces during WW2 and huge numbers of defensive positions were built as part of Hitler’s Atlantic Wall which remain to this day. The islands were liberated in May 1945 and every year islanders celebrate their freedom on 9th May, “Guernsey locals really know how to party” says Anne, a pensioner who has never left Guernsey apart from to visit the neighbouring islands of Helm and Sark,  “there is always a great party spirit here on Liberation Day.”

The walk ends with a tasting session at Gill’s farmhouse. Tired ramblers are rewarded with home-made garlic pesto, loganberry chutney, cheeses and ice cream – all ingredients locally sourced or foraged from the surrounding area. Guernsey has another notable dish – the “Bean Jar”, a savoury stew of ham and beans, the recipe of which varies from place to place and can be adapted to suit vegetarians. It is a must-try dish, accompanied with thick bread and bright yellow Guernsey butter.

So what are the main attractions of Guernsey? It certainly has the character of a continental holiday without the misery of the poor Euro exchange rate – Guernsey has its own stamps and currency although the British pound can be used on the island.

It is a surprisingly cheap place to visit; it is self-governing, a tax haven with no VAT charged on any goods. Free parking everywhere on the island is another significant benefit. Those on a budget can stay at one of the two campsites on the island or opt for self-catering apartments rather than the pricier hotels.

The low crime rate is another appealing characteristic of Guernsey, as Mark Duncan points out “If a thief were to steal a car here what on earth would they do with it?”

Other tiny quirks add to the overall appeal of the island. Instead of having roundabouts cars simply take it in turns to pull out of junctions and vehicles never go over 35mph. Perhaps the best example is the “hedge veg” or “honesty boxes” that can be found by the roadside. Locals put their wares out to sell (flowers, vegetables, and eggs – all manner of things) with a box for the cash and leave it unattended. Buyers simply put the required amount of money in the box and help themselves to the goods. According to Mark it is very rare than anyone abuses this tradition of trust and steals. “I love the atmosphere of Guernsey” says Eileen, “If the rest of the world lived life the Guernsey way everything would be so much easier and more relaxed!”

Aurigny flies daily from Stansted to Guernsey from £70 return including taxes, www.aurigny.com
3 star Les Rocquettes Hotel has rooms from £40pppn B&B, www.rocquettes.sarniahotels.com
More information: VisitGuernsey, 01481 723552, www.visitguernsey.com