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Daily Mail
16 hours ago
- Daily Mail
The new £17 tax tourists will have to pay to visit popular Greek islands
Travellers heading on a trip to a Greek island this summer may find themselves hit with an unexpected expense. Greece 's new 'sustainable tourism fee' has now been introduced to cruise passengers from July 21. Between June 1 and September 30, tourists disembarking a ship at Mykonos and Santorini will have to pay €20 each, equivalent to £17.35. The fee decreases in October and between April 1 and May 31, during the shoulder season, to €12 (£10.41). Between November 1 to March 31, the charge lowers to €4. Charges also apply to other ports on Greek islands and travellers will be charged €5 (£4.34) during the summer months. While in the winter, cruise tourists will be hit with a €1 (87p) charge, and in shoulder season €3 (£2.60). The new fee will be charged per passenger and will apply for each port they disembark at. It will be down to the cruise company to declare and pay the charge on a quarterly basis. Will Sarson, a cruise expert at Riviera Travel, urged people to check what costs are included in their cruise bookings. He said: 'Preparation and conducting checks are key to preventing unexpected charges. 'Being charged for unprecedented costs can leave you short of spending money, restricting your ability to make the most of your trip. 'Tourist tax and port fees are among the costs that could catch you out, so it's crucial to be aware of these fees when going on a cruise. 'While these fees may have been included in the cruise fare, thoroughly review the cruise line's terms and conditions to be aware of what costs are included. 'If you're still uncertain, contact the cruise line for confirmation. Being aware of what fees have been paid will give you a clearer picture of your finances for the holiday.' The new charges have been put in place to help tackle over crowding caused by tourism. Mykonos is expecting to host 900 cruise ships this season with tourist arrivals expected to reach 1.5 million. While footage from Santorini showed thousands of selfie-hunting holidaymakers have packed the narrow streets in a desperate bid to capture sunset views adored by influencers. However, the tax hasn't been welcomed by the port authorities in Mykonos. Speaking to Greek Reporter, Athanasios Kousathanas-Megas, the president of the Mykonos Port Fund, said that the tax was a 'curse' for the island's economy. He said: 'I believe that the price difference will create problems in choosing a cruise ship from 2026.'
The Guardian
a day ago
- The Guardian
A sacred moment at a dried-up oasis: M'Hammed Kilito's best photograph
I travelled to Merzouga in east Morocco three years ago, hoping to photograph some wall drawings and writings I had seen there earlier – markings that showed the distance from the village to Timbuktu, in Mali, by camel. But when I arrived, the markings had vanished. Faced with this absence, I found myself seeking a new story, something unplanned. Mustapha was my guide that day. At first, he took me along the typical tourist trails, which didn't speak to my photographic interests. Then he suggested we explore the sand dunes. Initially, I wasn't particularly interested in these either, but then we came across this old well. I set up my camera, a 1972 Hasselblad 500, and my tripod. As I started to photograph the well, Mustapha stepped forward, instinctively leaning in to look inside. I hadn't imagined him in the picture but he didn't pay attention to me. That spontaneous gesture – part ritual, part desperation – transformed the scene completely. It felt sacred, as though he were praying for the return of something essential: water. This unplanned moment encapsulates the core of my wider project, Before It's Gone: the fragility of ecosystems, the human struggle for survival, the quiet persistence of memory in the face of environmental loss. I began the project in 2018, driven by my growing awareness of how dramatically oasis environments were changing in Morocco. I started noticing patterns: rising temperatures, shrinking water sources, abandoned palm groves and increasing rural exodus. What was once a source of life and resilience for entire communities was slowly being erased. I felt an urgent need to document this transformation – not just ecologically but socially and culturally. Over the years, the project has taken me to dozens of oases and expanded to include Tunisia, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and Mauritania. It has unfolded through travel, extended conversations and long-term engagement with the people who live in these spaces. What drives me is the conviction that these are not just local stories – they are global warnings. The climate crisis is often framed in abstract or future terms. Through this work, I want to make it visible, human and grounded in the present. Including the human figure was essential. Oases are not just geographic features: they are homes, livelihoods and cultural reservoirs shaped over centuries. In this photograph, Mustapha embodies that deep connection. His gesture of looking into the well is both literal and symbolic – it speaks to dependence, resilience and vulnerability, but also to hope and remembrance. This reflects my work, which explores the complex relationship between people and their environments. Whether I'm documenting oases' decline, Moroccan youth, or the sociology of work and migration, I'm interested in how individuals navigate change. Water scarcity is no longer just an environmental issue. It's a humanitarian crisis, especially in regions such as the Sahara, where life has always depended on fragile water sources. I hope images like this can serve as visual testimonies – simple, powerful reminders of what is at stake. Photography has taught me to slow down and pay attention to people, landscapes and silence. This shot is a portrait of loss but also of quiet resistance. Communities are being forced to leave the only homes they've ever known, not because of war but because the water is disappearing. I hope the image evokes empathy and awareness. I want viewers to connect emotionally – to see the climate emergency not as a distant headline, but to recognise the urgent need to protect natural resources and the cultures and communities that depend on them. This was a fleeting moment, entirely unplanned, yet it now speaks to so much. Seeing it enlarged today as a poster in underground stations across London, advertising the Wellcome Trust exhibition Thirst, is humbling. It shows the importance of staying open, of letting the story find you. Born: Lviv, Ukraine, 1981Trained: Master in Political Science, University of OttawaInfluences: Alec Soth, Hakim Belabbes, Carlos ReygadasHigh point: 'Becoming a National Geographic explorer, having my photo on the cover of Nat Geo magazine, and winning the World Press Photo prize.'Low point: 'At a time when I was experiencing financial hardship, a gallery in Marrakech with which I'd planned an exhibition let me down.'Top tip: 'Believe in yourself, do your research, understand your niche, carve out your own path.' The free exhibition Thirst: In Search of Freshwater is at the Wellcome Collection, London, until 1 February. See more images from Before It's Gone at
The Guardian
2 days ago
- The Guardian
A sacred moment at a dried-up oasis: M'Hammed Kilito's best photograph
I travelled to Merzouga in east Morocco three years ago, hoping to photograph some wall drawings and writings I had seen there earlier – markings that showed the distance from the village to Timbuktu, in Mali, by camel. But when I arrived, the markings had vanished. Faced with this absence, I found myself seeking a new story, something unplanned. Mustapha was my guide that day. At first, he took me along the typical tourist trails, which didn't speak to my photographic interests. Then he suggested we explore the sand dunes. Initially, I wasn't particularly interested in these either, but then we came across this old well. I set up my camera, a 1972 Hasselblad 500, and my tripod. As I started to photograph the well, Mustapha stepped forward, instinctively leaning in to look inside. I hadn't imagined him in the picture but he didn't pay attention to me. That spontaneous gesture – part ritual, part desperation – transformed the scene completely. It felt sacred, as though he were praying for the return of something essential: water. This unplanned moment encapsulates the core of my wider project, Before It's Gone: the fragility of ecosystems, the human search for survival, the quiet persistence of memory in the face of environmental loss. I began the project in 2018, driven by my growing awareness of how dramatically oasis environments were changing in Morocco. I started noticing patterns: rising temperatures, shrinking water sources, abandoned palm groves and increasing rural exodus. What was once a source of life and resilience for entire communities was slowly being erased. I felt an urgent need to document this transformation – not just ecologically but socially and culturally. Over the years, the project has taken me to dozens of oases and expanded to include Tunisia, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and Mauritania. It has unfolded through travel, extended conversations and long-term engagement with the people who live in these spaces. What drives me is the conviction that these are not just local stories – they are global warnings. The climate crisis is often framed in abstract or future terms. Through this work, I want to make it visible, human and grounded in the present. Including the human figure was essential. Oases are not just geographic features: they are homes, livelihoods and cultural reservoirs shaped over centuries. In this photograph, Mustapha embodies that deep connection. His gesture of looking into the well is both literal and symbolic – it speaks to dependence, resilience and vulnerability, but also to hope and remembrance. This reflects my work, which explores the complex relationship between people and their environments. Whether I'm documenting oases' decline, Moroccan youth, or the sociology of work and migration, I'm interested in how individuals navigate change. Water scarcity is no longer just an environmental issue. It's a humanitarian crisis, especially in regions such as the Sahara, where life has always depended on fragile water sources. I hope images like this can serve as visual testimonies – simple, powerful reminders of what is at stake. Photography has taught me to slow down and pay attention to people, landscapes and silence. This shot is a portrait of loss but also of quiet resistance. Communities are being forced to leave the only homes they've ever known, not because of war but because the water is disappearing. I hope the image evokes empathy and awareness. I want viewers to connect emotionally – to see the climate emergency not as a distant headline, but to recognise the urgent need to protect natural resources and the cultures and communities that depend on them. This was a fleeting moment, entirely unplanned, yet it now speaks to so much. Seeing it enlarged today as a poster in underground stations across London, advertising the Wellcome Trust exhibition Thirst, is humbling. It shows the importance of staying open, of letting the story find you. Born: Lviv, Ukraine, 1981Trained: Master in Political Science, University of OttawaInfluences: Alec Soth, Hakim Belabbes, Carlos ReygadasHigh point: 'Becoming a National Geographic explorer, having my photo on the cover of Nat Geo magazine, and winning the World Press Photo prize.'Low point: 'At a time when I was experiencing financial hardship, a gallery in Marrakech with which I'd planned an exhibition let me down.'Top tip: 'Believe in yourself, do your research, understand your niche, carve out your own path.' The free exhibition Thirst: In Search of Freshwater is at the Wellcome Collection, London, until 1 February. See more images from Before It's Gone at
