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The Guardian
2 hours ago
- The Guardian
Surfin' USA? Not this year: 10 European alternatives to classic American holiday destinations
Sprawled on a towel, observing silhouetted surfers chasing the ocean-plunging carmine sun, I don't need to squint to imagine I'm in the Golden State. But my sandy toes and salty hair are products of the Atlantic, not the Pacific. And this Santa Cruz belongs to Portugal's Costa de Prata, not California. Mutual monikers are not the only parallels: this coast has 300 sunny days a year, top-notch surf (after Malibu, nearby Ericeira was the second place to be designated a World Surfing Reserve), and blond sands stretching towards wave-carved coastal bluffs and ocean arches. In this former fishing village, just an hour's drive north-west of Lisbon, tranquillity flows like the tides. A soul-healing clutch of low-slung, whitewashed streets waymarked by an out-of-place beachside crenellated turret – the sole remnant of a palace plan thwarted by the 1929 Wall Street crash – it's the kind of delightfully textbook Portuguese place you stumble upon serendipitously. And once you do, you won't want to leave. Japanese poet Kazuo Dan visited in 1971 to have a 'conversation between Heaven and Earth' – a chat he continued for 16 months. If you're a surfer, you'll instantly agree. If not, lessons will leave you convinced. Check-in at chic Noah Surf House (room sleeping four from €320 B&B), complete with an ocean-view infinity pool and skate park, and arranging all-age surf classes is effortless. Flawlessly renovated Villa Galega (doubles from €115 B&B) affords a more homely escape. Santa Cruz and surrounding Torres Vedras boasts 11 beaches certified as pollution-free – more than any other Portuguese municipality. Tread the dune-crossing boardwalk to river-wrapped Praia Azul to flop on the finest sweep. Back in town, beachside feasts don't come better than breezy Bronzear. Split a steaming pot of arroz de peixe, a seafood-stacked rice stew, or take plump, signature crabs as your table's centrepiece during September's Festival da Sapateira. California cravings? Noah's grilled cheese and portobello burgers hit the spot. Pair with a local Touriga Nacional red wine – a robust stand-in for a Cali Cab Sav – or slip away to the family-run winery Quinta da Almiara for a vine-hemmed, in situ tasting. Evenings usually end ringing the doorbell of Manel, the town's oldest bar, for jazz-accompanied candlelit cocktails and Lisbon-brewed IPAs. Out front, an engraved stone shares Kazuo's words contemplating chasing the setting sun to the end of the sea – the haiku that Santa Cruz's surfers now scrupulously James Clarke Almost two centuries after it was written, Walden; or, Life in the Woods, Henry David Thoreau's book about the two years he spent living in a self-built cabin on a lake in Massachusetts, still inspires generations of Americans to go in search of what he called the 'tonic of wildness'. It's an American dream of simplicity and self-sufficiency that was also beautifully captured in the 1981 film On Golden Pond, in which Henry Fonda and Katharine Hepburn fish, paddle and ponder life for one last summer in Maine (though it was filmed in New Hampshire). But North America doesn't have a monopoly on this kind of bucolic escape. The Nordic countries know all about the appeal of cabin life – and Finland, with 19 hours of sunlight in midsummer and sublime wild landscapes, is an idyllic alternative. Mökki, or Finnish summer cottages, sit on lake shores or on rocks by the seashore and are often passed down through families. With about 20% of Finns living within the Helsinki metropolitan area, these cabins are a sanctuary for spending time in nature: fishing and messing about on the water in summer; skiing, ice-swimming and snowshoeing in winter. Many are off-grid, so part of the ritual includes splitting wood, gathering water, warming up in the wood-fired sauna … and letting your phone battery die. You're free to roam the coast or forage in the surrounding forest too – the Jokaisenoikeudet or 'everyman's rights' law gives everyone the freedom to wander and collect wild food. You don't need to have friends or family with a mökki to stay in one – there are an estimated 500,000 of them and only a fifth of Finns own one outright, so many are available for those new to mökkielämä (Finnish cottage life). Lomarengas and Finland Cottage Rentals allow you to rent directly from owners, while on Sviskär in the southern Åland archipelago you get a 28-hectare (69-acre) island all to yourself – perfect for foraging, sea dipping and the 'tonic of wildness'.Sian Lewis In 1948, Earl Shaffer, a US second world war veteran, set off on a long walk. He had his ex-army rucksack and some old boots, but no tent or cooker. His goal was to be the first person to complete the 2,200 miles of the Appalachian Trail in one continuous yomp, a thru-hike as it came to be known. When 67-year-old grandmother Emma Gatewood repeated the feat in 1955 (with even simpler kit), the Appalachian Trail was on its way to becoming the world's first long-distance celebrity footpath. These days about 3,000 people attempt a thru-hike every year (about a quarter of those succeed) but the experience is now very different, with huts every six to eight miles, water stashes left by 'trail angels', and well-established support logistics. In Europe it can be harder to find sustained remoteness, but the 2,050-mile Scandinavian section of the E1 long-distance footpath is about as close as you get. This full 4,420-mile route had its origins in post-second-world-war rapprochement ideals and was devised by a team from the then European Ramblers Association led by the British walker Arthur Howcroft (who died in 2023 aged 96). The path starts at Norway's North Cape and officially finishes in Palermo, but it is in Scandinavia that it crosses the greatest amount of wilderness. The early stages are well inside the Arctic Circle and not to be underestimated, with navigation, river crossings and snowfields constant challenges. Long stretches are unmarked. There are some concessions to practicalities: both Norway and Sweden have excellent systems of mountain huts. Once you reach Halmstad on the Swedish coast, you have almost one Appalachian Trail's worth of walking under your belt, but there is no need to stop: in E1 terms you are not even halfway. A ferry crosses to the Danish port of Grenaa, and the path begins again, continuing across Germany and the Alps with several long, tough days. Some great stages then cross Tuscany and Umbria, but once in southern Italy the path, by all accounts, can be a bit sketchy and seems to fade away in Campania, though route-marking is improving. After his failed attempt to complete the Appalachian Trail, author Bill Bryson described the benefits of long-distance trails succinctly: 'For a brief, proud period I was slender and fit. I gained a profound respect for wilderness and nature and the benign dark power of woods. I understand now, in a way I never did before, the colossal scale of the world.'Kevin Rushby Buzzy and culturally rich, with extensive museums and galleries, oodles of nightlife and concerts – from classical venues to techno clubs – lush green spaces, family-friendly activities and striking architecture, New York and Berlin have plenty in common. But as someone who knows both cities well, Berlin gets my vote. While NYC's nightlife is diverse – and has bounced back since Rudy Giuliani's ugly, destructive campaign against it in the 1990s – it's way more commercial than Berlin, whose underground electronic scene, especially techno, is edgier and more experimental. From Berghain to Sisyphos, Berlin's clubs also stay open longer (sometimes for days; it truly is the city that never sleeps, at least on weekends). They also don't tend to have dress codes – unless you count skimpy lingerie and kinky harnesses. VIP areas and even mobile phone photography are strictly verboten. Berliners can quaff beers openly on the streets, and indulge in a bit of public nookie at nightclubs – as distinct from official swinger or sex spots such as KitKat. Berlin gives great gastro, too, excelling at affordable, mid-range restaurants that tick all the trend boxes – small plates, natural wines, plant-based menus found at buzzy neighbourhood spots such as Kreuzberg's vegan haven Happa, Neukölln's La Côte and Sorrel, and Prenzlauer Berg's Estelle. And while it doesn't have a Chinatown or a Little Italy, you can find every national cuisine on the planet (albeit with less spice, to appease the sensitive German palate). NYC certainly has fantastic cultural big-hitters, from the Guggenheim and the Met to Moma and the American Museum of Natural History, but Berlin has the Unesco-heritage Museum Island, Mies van der Rohe's slickly modernist Neue Nationalgalerie and its own natural history and German history museums. It also excels in unusual venues that New York doesn't have, such as the Hamburger Bahnhof, in a former railway station, the Boros Collection inside a second world war bunker, and Silent Green, an art and concert space in a former crematorium. As for green space, New York's Central Park may be one-and-a-half times the size of the Tiergarten, but Berlin has vastly more green recreational spaces overall, with about 2,500 inner-city parks and unique areas such as the sprawling Tempelhofer Feld, a former airport, and the massive Grunewald forest. One last thing: with much lower population density and fewer tourists (12.7 million people visited Berlin in 2024 versus the 64 million who went to New York), there's more room on the streets and fewer queues for the major sights. Bis bald (see you soon) … y'all. Paul Sullivan Let's get one thing straight: size wise, the Grand Canyon sprawls for 278 miles along the Colorado River, whereas the Tara River Canyon covers a mere 51. But what the Montenegrin canyon lacks in size it makes up for in depth: as Europe's deepest gorge, it plunges 1,300 metres (4,300ft), only 300 metres less than the average depth of the Grand Canyon (and just over 500 metres less than its deepest point). As this Unesco world heritage site slices through northern Montenegro's Durmitor national park and eventually slides across the border into Bosnia, it adds even more drama to this section of the Dinaric Alps' forbidding mountains and glacial lakes. For adventurers who like a challenge, Tara means one thing: white-water rafting. The choice of excursions all around the region is enormous, but you can get a taste of it in a few hours by joining one of the trips from the town of Žabljak, which in winter is one of Montenegro's ski centres. Eventually, you'll be rafting under the soaring concrete arches of the awe-inspiring Đurđevića Tara Bridge, whose beauty is best admired from below. There's a whole mini industry set up around the bridge, including ziplining and stalls selling souvenirs. As someone at the opposite end of the daredevilry scale – and thanks to speeding cars and a concrete path that's barely a foot wide – I found it scary enough just walking on the bridge to take in the admittedly extraordinary view. But there are other ways of enjoying the beauty of Tara without worrying about Montenegrin motorists. Not far from Žabljak is the car park for the Ćurevac mountain peak and viewpoint, which is reached after a 40-minute hike and offers sweeping views of those magnificent gorges. It's only one of scores of hiking routes that wind above and alongside the river, some of which are part of the 1,200-mile Via Dinarica trail that goes from Slovenia all the way to Albania. Right by the border with Bosnia and the confluence of the Tara and Piva rivers is another collection of rafting centres as well as campsites offering mellower ways of exploring Tara. Boat trips along gentler stretches of water give you the chance to swim in absurdly clear waters, lunch on organic food and drink cold beer brewed with spring water. And in this land of €3 pints, you'll find your euro going way further than your dollar ever would. Stay at Green Top near Žabljak, which has well-equipped one-bedroom self-catering wooden chalets with gardens, barbecues and mountain views from £95 a Novakovich When the Italian film director Sergio Leone chose to shoot his westerns in Europe, there was only one place that could convincingly double for the American west – the Tabernas desert in south-east Spain. With its dry riverbeds snaking through arid mountains and sandstone canyons, it's easy to imagine yourself in California's Mojave desert. Tabernas might not have the Mojave's famous Joshua trees, but it is home to flora, fauna and a landscape reminiscent of the US desert. Prickly pears, giant aloe and palm trees line the trails, while lizards scuttle among otherworldly rock formations and eagles soar in the vast sky. Tourism is still low-key here. For decades this barren part of Andalucía was not on the radar of the Spanish tourist board, and large areas are monopolised by swathes of plastic greenhouses. But with a growing appreciation for Tabernas' unique status as Europe's only desert, as well as the renaissance of Leone's movies, its charms are being re-evaluated. You can take a guided horseback ride through the desert with the Malcaminos ranch and pitch your tent at Camping Fort Bravo (€45 a night), one of the original movie sets still in use today. For a little more comfort –and to live out your California homesteading fantasy – you can book into one of their western-styled log cabins (from €80). Sign up to The Traveller Get travel inspiration, featured trips and local tips for your next break, as well as the latest deals from Guardian Holidays after newsletter promotion It's an easy sell for me. Bewitched by cowboy lore as a teenager, I rode across the American deserts in search of the mythical west (admittedly on a motorcycle rather than horseback), seduced by the romance of life on the trail – billy cans boiling over campfires and a wide-open wilderness that promised a freedom unimaginable in fenced-off, old-world Europe. Joshua Tree national park in the Mojave desert became my go-to destination each time I found myself in California. But in recent years, I've been exploring Spain, scouting routes for the forthcoming Spaghetti Western Trail, and finding the same magic in the Desierto de Tabernas. The scale is of course smaller than the Mojave, but the silence, the stillness, the hint of sage on the warm air and the sense of exploration are as thrilling as my early US road trips. Leone was enthralled by American style and myth but always from a distance. 'I can't see the US any other way than with a European's eyes,' he said. 'It's a country that fascinates me and terrifies me at the same time.' If you feel the same way right now, but still yearn for a cowboy adventure, you could do worse than follow in his footsteps and head for Pryce The jaw-dropping landscapes of the US's 63 national parks lure millions of visitors to the great outdoors each year. Yellowstone, established in 1872, is the oldest of them all – a sprawling 3,472 square miles of dazzling scenery including canyons and active geysers. Mostly in Wyoming but stretching into Montana and Idaho, it's home to wildlife from grizzly bears and wolves to bison and antelope, and is crisscrossed by thousands of miles of trails. Although it can't compete in size, the rugged, forested Făgăraș mountains in Romania offer a thrilling taste of the wild and exciting wildlife-spotting opportunities closer to home. This area of Transylvania, on the southern edge of the Carpathians, is among the wildest places in Europe, where brown bear, wolves, lynx and – recently reintroduced – bison roam. It's where the Foundation Conservation Carpathia is working to create the continent's largest forest national park, buying land for conservation and reforesting clear-cut areas on its mission to establish a 200,000-hectare wilderness reserve, which has been dubbed a 'Yellowstone for Europe'. As I hike through forests on steep zigzagging paths with my guide Răzvan, the thrill of the wild is real – we see a viper and pass fresh bear prints. Gouge marks on a tree and overturned stones reveal the bear's hunt for food. I watch with bated breath as a group of bison wander on a hillside close by – thankfully upwind of our scent. We stay at Bunea hide, a wooden shelter overlooking a lake, with bunks, a double bedroom, a kitchen and huge soundproofed windows that make the most of the views. As night falls, I stare into the dark as if glued to a movie. Something moves in the half-light – and slowly a young female brown bear wanders into view, sniffing the air, rubbing against a tree. It's not long before a large male appears, just metres away from the hide. I'm mesmerised as I watch him pawing the ground for food before sloping off into the woods. Unlike the vast lodges in Yellowstone, staying in these tiny cabins mean you're close to the action, engulfed by the landscape. We hike higher to Comisu hide, at 1,600 metres, with sweeping views over the mountains as a storm rolls in. Owls call out in the moonlit night as I drift off to sleep, dreaming about this vibrant wild DunfordVisit Foundation Conservation Carpathia for more information For all our sniffiness about American cuisine, few people dispute the quality of the country's seafood. Although you can no longer get a lobster roll at McDonald's in New England, the fast-food joint is one of the few places in the region where they're not on the menu. Cycling down the Atlantic coast last summer as part of research for a US travelogue, I rejoiced in the casual abundance on offer at the roadside – baskets of fried clams in Connecticut, oysters in Maine, crab benedict in Massachusetts … 3,000 miles and a world away from the grand silver fruits de mer platters of Europe. You don't have to fly across an ocean to get your shellfish fix, however. While you're unlikely to find yourself tempted by a lobster surf and turf burger in France, seafood can be surprisingly accessible if you swerve Parisian bistros and go straight to the source. La Cale, in Blainville-sur-Mer on Normandy's Cotentin peninsula, an easy drive (or a day's cycle) from Cherbourg, is typiquement français for its pride in local produce (oysters, whelks, clams etc, as well as galettes and spit-roast meat), but rather less so in its casual feet-in-the-sand ethos and informal service. Remi, the proprietor, is described online as 'eccentric' – his van is graffitied with the words 'Rosbeefs welcome … frogs too'. Do not pass up the moules frites, or the teurgoule, a traditional Normande spiced rice pudding. Further down the coast, in Brittany, I've earmarked Cancale, in the Bay of Mont Saint Michel, for a return visit, because if you ever wanted proof that the French can let their hair down, look no further than the people sitting on the sea wall with paper platters of oysters and plastic cups of cold sancerre. The oysters come from the seafront marché aux huîtres, which offers a bamboozling selection, all shucked to order, and the wine from an enterprising booze van parked nearby. The shells, once you've finished, are thrown on to the beach. One step up, in that there's table service, but with no more steps between sea and plate, is Maison Quintin, on the Atlantic coast near Saint-Philibert, where you can feast on the family's own oysters under the pines as the sun sets over the estuary, supplemented with skewers of plump prawns and langoustines, crab, grilled lobster, and their homemade seafood rillettes on toast. Reservations essential – laid-back vibes CloakePeach Street to Lobster Lane: Coast to Coast in Search of Real American Cuisine by Felicity Cloake is published by Mudlark (£16.99) It was on a slow journey through the extensive wetlands that border Italy's Adriatic that I first came upon the little-known Laguna di Marano, a carefully preserved eco-paradise, barely touched by tourism. This gossamer web of interlocking lagoons, canals and river deltas stretches from Venice all the way up to Trieste. Local legend has it that Ernest Hemingway called these wetlands and the adjoining sandy beach resort of Lignano 'piccola Florida', because it reminded him of the Everglades and the Florida Keys. The US author first came to this part of Italy as a volunteer at the end of the first world war. He returned in the 1950s to find inspiration for his book Across the River and Into the Trees while duck hunting and fishing on the Marano Lagoon – though for sea bream and mullet rather than marlin, his favourite quarry in the waters around Florida. At the bar of the rustic Trattoria Barcaneta in the bustling medieval port of Marano Lagunare, I order a glass of refosco dal peduncolo rosso, a rustic local red wine favoured by the writer. It may not be as glamorous as sipping a Hemingway martini in a Key West cocktail bar, but it was the perfect aperitivo before tasting chef Claudio Moretti's exquisite cuisine, a delicate carpaccio of sea bass and grilled eel from the nearby Stella River delta, both freshly caught by the port's many fishers. Marano Lagunare is the perfect base for exploring the surrounding wetlands. The tourism office can arrange activities from canoeing and kayaking to walking and horse riding. Renting a small boat with a guide is my choice, a retired pescatore (fisher) for the perfect insight into local life on the water. While the vast, open expanse of the lagoon is breathtaking, dotted along the edge of the water is something you will never see in Florida – traditional casoni thatched huts still used today by fishers. The landscape changes dramatically as we enter the protected reserve of the Stella delta. Here, the freshwater channels become narrower, bordered on both sides by tall golden reeds – definitely a feel of the Everglades – as we catch glimpses of pink flamingos, purple herons, egrets, cormorants swooping down and a neat squadron of geese flying past. It may be smaller than the Everglades (62 square miles as opposed to 2,357), but the one thing truly different from a Florida nature excursion is that there is no need to look out for Brunton My left foot shook on the clutch – not from tiredness, but from something resembling fear. Conor Pass had seemed like a good idea at breakfast. One of Ireland's highest and narrowest mountain roads? Why not? The car seemed to float as the road narrowed to a one-lane ledge between cliff and sky. No turning back now – just a slow crawl upwards with mist curling over the bonnet from the valley below. Still, this is the scenery the Wild Atlantic Way promises – and delivers. It's a 1,600-mile coastal drive from Malin Head, the country's most northerly point, in County Donegal, to Kinsale in County Cork in the south-west – and Ireland's answer to California's Highway 1, the 656-mile Pacific Coast route that skirts sea bluffs, redwood groves and epic coastal views. Big Sur's iconic Bixby Bridge resembles the Mizen Head footbridge in West Cork. Highway 1's 'million dollar view' is eclipsed by the Atlantic sweep from Slieve League, or the cliffs that tower above powder-white Keem beach on Achill Island. Connemara's Sky Road and the Burren's Atlantic Drive echo Big Sur's drama, winding between limestone and ocean. However, my favourite stretch – the Dingle peninsula – is hard to match. Its mountain-to-ocean setting is visual theatre dialled to max. Inch beach, a long curve of sand stretching three miles into Dingle Bay, is a gentle introduction before I turned north to hair-raising Conor Pass (optional and clearly marked) and descended into Dingle town. The road then turns otherworldly along the Slea Head Drive with Ventry beach's three miles of bone-white sand perfect for barefoot walking – somewhat like Highway 1's famous Moonstone beach. As I drove on I stopped at every layby I could, because there's always something around the corner; a hidden cove or early Christian monument. At Coumeenoole beach, I stepped out on the headland and watched the surf pound the shore ferociously as if it was punishing it for some ancient grievance. And then came Dunquin Pier – the lane zigzags down a steep slope like a spiral staircase that plunges into the ocean, which was enough of a reason to ditch the car on the roadside and walk down. This is where the boats leave for the Blaskets, and it feels like the edge of the world. Offshore, the Three Sisters – three jagged peaks rising from the ocean floor – remain in focus, their silhouettes a reminder of the sea stacks off Big Sur. About halfway along the Slea Head Drive, the magnificent Blasket Centre delivers staggering island views. Vic O'Sullivan
Yahoo
7 hours ago
- Climate
- Yahoo
Deep cuts to hurricane data could leave forecasters in the dark
Forecasters are set to lose some of their sharpest eyes in the sky just a few months before Atlantic hurricane season peaks when the Department of Defense halts a key source of satellite data over cybersecurity concerns. The data comes from microwave sensors attached to three aging polar-orbiting satellites operated for both military and civilian purposes. Data from the sensors is critical to hurricane forecasters because it allows them to peer through layers of clouds and into the center of a storm, where rain and thunderstorms develop, even at night. The sensors don't rely on visible light. Losing the data — at a time when the National Weather Service is releasing fewer weather balloons and the agency is short on meteorologists because of budget cuts — will make it more likely that forecasters miss key developments in a hurricane, several hurricane experts said. Those changes help meteorologists determine what level of threat a storm may pose and therefore how emergency managers ought to prepare. Microwave data offers some of the earliest indications that sustained winds are strengthening inside a storm. 'It's really the instrument that allows us to look under the hood. It's definitely a significant loss. There's no doubt at all hurricane forecasts will be degraded because of this,' said Brian McNoldy, a hurricane researcher and senior research associate at the University of Miami's Rosenstiel School of Marine, Atmospheric, and Earth Science. 'They're able to detect when an eye wall forms in a tropical storm and if it's intensifying — or rapidly intensifying.' Researchers think rapid intensification is becoming more likely in tropical storms as the oceans warm as a result of human-caused climate change. The three satellites are operated for both military and civilian purposes through the Defense Meteorological Satellite Program, a joint effort of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and the Department of Defense. While hurricane experts said they were concerned about losing the tool, Kim Doster, NOAA's communications director, downplayed the decision's effect on hurricane forecasting by the National Weather Service. In an email, Doster said the military's microwave data 'is a single dataset in a robust suite of hurricane forecasting and modeling tools in the NWS portfolio.' Doster said these models include data from geostationary satellites — a different system that constantly observes Earth from about 22,300 miles away and offers a vantage point that appears fixed because the satellites synchronize with Earth's rotation. They also ingest measurements from Hurricane Hunter aircraft missions, buoys, weather balloons, land-based radar and from other polar-orbiting satellites, including NOAA's Joint Polar Satellite System, which she said provides 'the richest, most accurate satellite weather observations available.' A U.S. Space Force official said the satellites and their instruments in question remain functional and that the data will be sent directly to weather satellite readout terminals across the DOD. The Navy's Fleet Numerical Meteorology and Oceanography Center made the decision to stop processing that data and sharing it publicly, the official said. The Navy did not immediately respond to a request for comment. Earlier this week, a division of the Navy notified researchers that it would cease to process and share the data on or before June 30, and some researchers received an email from the Navy's Fleet Numerical Meteorology and Oceanography Center, saying that its data storage and sharing program relied on a processing station that was using an 'end-of-life' operating system with vulnerabilities. 'The operating system cannot be upgraded, poses a cybersecurity concern, and introduces risk to DoD networks,' the email, which was reviewed by NBC News, said. The move will cut the amount of microwave data available to forecasters in half, McNoldy estimated. This microwave data is also used by snow and ice scientists to track the extent of polar sea ice, which helps scientists understand long-term climate trends. Sea ice forms from frozen ocean water. It grows in coverage during winter months and typically melts during warmer times of the year. Sea ice reflects sunlight back into space, which cools the planet. That makes it an important metric to track over time. The extent of summer Arctic sea ice is trending lower because of global warming. Walt Meier, a senior research scientist at the National Snow and Ice Data Center, said his program learned of the Navy's decision earlier this week. Meier said the satellites and sensors are about 16 years old. Researchers have been preparing for them to eventually fail, but they weren't expecting the military to pull the plug on data with little warning, he said. Meier said the National Snow and Ice Data Center has relied on the military satellites for data on sea ice coverage since 1987, but will adapt its systems to use similar microwave data from a Japanese satellite, called AMSR-2, instead. 'It certainly could be a few weeks before we get that data into our system,' Meier said. 'I don't think it's going to undermine our sea ice climate data record in terms of confidence in it, but it's going to be more challenging.' The polar-orbiting satellites that are part of the Defense Meteorological Satellite Program provide intermittent coverage of hurricane-prone areas. The satellites typically zip around the globe in a north-south orientation every 90-100 minutes in a relatively low orbit, Meier said. The microwave sensors scan across a narrow swath of the earth, which Meier estimated at roughly 1,500 miles. As the Earth rotates, these polar-orbiting satellites can capture imagery that helps researchers determine the structure and potential intensity of a storm, if it happens to be in their path. 'It's often just by luck, you'll get a really nice pass over a hurricane,' McNoldy said, adding that the change will reduce the geographic area covered by microwave scans and the frequency of scans of a particular storm. Andy Hazelton, a hurricane modeler and associate scientist with the University of Miami Cooperative Institute for Marine & Atmospheric Studies, said the microwave data is used in some hurricane models and also by forecasters who can access near real-time visualizations of the data. Hazelton said forecasters are always looking for visual signatures in microwave data that often provide the first evidence a storm is rapidly intensifying and building strength. The National Hurricane Center defines rapid intensification as a 35-mph or higher increase in sustained winds inside a tropical storm within 24 hours. Losing the microwave data is particularly important now because in recent years, scientists have observed an increase in rapid intensification, a trend likely fueled in part by climate change as ocean waters warm. A 2023 study published the journal Scientific Reports found that tropical cyclones in the Atlantic Ocean were about 29% more likely to undergo rapid intensification from 2001 to 2020, compared to 1971 to 1990. Last year, Hurricane Milton strengthened from a tropical storm to a Category 5 hurricane in just 36 hours. Some of that increase took place overnight, when other satellite instruments offer less information. The trend is particularly dangerous when a storm, like Hurricane Idalia, intensifies just before striking the coast. 'We've certainly seen in recent years many cases of rapid intensification ahead of landfall. That's the kind of thing you really don't want to miss,' McNoldy said, adding that microwave data is 'excellent at giving the important extra 12 hours of lead time to see the inner core changes happening.' Brian LaMarre, the former meteorologist-in-charge at the National Weather Service's weather forecasting station in Tampa Bay, said the data is also useful for predicting flood impacts as a hurricane comes ashore. 'That scan can help predict where the heavier precipitation and rainfall rates can be,' LaMarre said. 'This data is critically important to public safety.' Hurricane season begins June 1 and ends Nov. 30. It typically starts to peak in late summer and early fall. NOAA forecasters have predicted a more busy 2025 hurricane season than typical, with six to 10 hurricanes. This article was originally published on
Sustainability Times
11 hours ago
- Business
- Sustainability Times
'France Shocks the Seas': World's Largest Luxury Sailing Cruise Yacht Finally Floats Out from Massive Shipyard
IN A NUTSHELL 🚢 Orient Express Corinthian is the world's largest sail yacht cruise ship, combining historic elegance with modern technology. is the world's largest sail yacht cruise ship, combining historic elegance with modern technology. 🌊 The vessel spans 727 feet, featuring three balestron rigs and a hybrid propulsion system utilizing wind and LNG. and a hybrid propulsion system utilizing wind and LNG. 🔍 Equipped with an AI-powered detection system , the ship prioritizes safety and environmental sustainability. , the ship prioritizes safety and environmental sustainability. 🏨 Accor leverages the Orient Express brand for luxury expansion, offering opulent suites and dining by a multi-Michelin starred chef. The launch of the Orient Express Corinthian marks a new era in luxury cruising, combining the elegance of the historic Orient Express train with the cutting-edge technology of modern shipbuilding. This extraordinary vessel, which recently floated out from the Chantiers de l'Atlantique shipyard in France, is set to redefine luxury travel on the high seas. As it prepares for its maiden voyage from Marseille, sailing through the Mediterranean and across the Atlantic, the Corinthian promises an unparalleled experience for its guests. With state-of-the-art features and opulent amenities, this cruise ship is not just a mode of transportation but a destination in itself. The Marvel of Modern Engineering: A Giant of the Seas At 727 feet long and weighing 26,200 gross tons, the Orient Express Corinthian is the world's largest sail yacht cruise ship. This colossal vessel was meticulously crafted from 14 structural blocks and showcases an innovative design with three balestron rigs—each mast reaching an impressive height of 328 feet. These masts are equipped with 16,146 square feet of sail surface, ready to harness the power of the wind. When not in use, the sails can be neatly folded down, showcasing the ship's blend of aesthetic appeal and functionality. Constructed at the renowned Chantiers de l'Atlantique shipyard, the ship's engineering is a testament to modern ingenuity. The Corinthian employs a unique propulsion system that allows it to operate entirely under renewable wind power when conditions are favorable. For times when additional power is needed, the ship is equipped with a hybrid system utilizing liquefied natural gas (LNG). This combination of renewable and traditional energy sources underscores the vessel's commitment to sustainability and efficiency. 240 miles in 20 minutes: this mind-blowing Chinese hyperloop leaves Musk's vision in the dust Innovative Technologies: Setting New Standards in Safety and Sustainability The Orient Express Corinthian is not just about luxury; it's also about innovation. The ship features a groundbreaking AI-powered floating object detection system, designed to prevent collisions with marine mammals. This technology, developed in collaboration with the Chantiers de l'Atlantique shipyard, highlights the ship's dedication to environmental stewardship. Additionally, the vessel is equipped with dynamic positioning technology to eliminate the need for anchoring, thus protecting fragile seabeds. The inclusion of the BIO-UV Group's chemical-free, UV-based BIO-SEA ballast water treatment system further emphasizes the ship's focus on maintaining ecological balance. These pioneering features set a new benchmark for safety and environmental responsibility in the cruise industry. 'UN Defies US Threats': Global Carbon Tax on Shipping Passed in Historic Move That Shakes Oil Giants and Trade Routes Accor and the Heritage of the Orient Express Accor's acquisition of the Orient Express brand in 2022 was a strategic move to expand its luxury portfolio. With its rich history and iconic reputation, the Orient Express brand brings a touch of classic elegance to Accor's offerings. The Corinthian's design reflects this heritage, with opulent interiors and five exquisite restaurants curated by multi-Michelin starred chef Yannick Alléno. The launch of the Orient Express Corinthian is part of Accor's broader strategy to revive the grandeur of the Orient Express in a new format. In partnership with LVMH, Accor plans to open its first Orient Express hotels, leveraging the brand's legacy to attract discerning travelers. This expansion into the luxury cruise sector is a natural progression, following in the footsteps of other luxury brands like Ritz-Carlton and Four Seasons. Japan Plans 310,000-Ton Crude Oil Giant: World's Biggest Methanol-Powered Ship Set to Revolutionize Global Energy Transport The Future of Luxury Travel: A New Dawn The Orient Express Corinthian is more than just a cruise ship; it symbolizes the future of luxury travel. With 54 lavish suites ranging from 485 to 2,476 square feet, the ship offers an intimate and personalized experience for its 110 passengers. From the French and Italian Rivieras to the serene Caribbean, the Corinthian's itineraries promise breathtaking vistas and unforgettable adventures. As this majestic vessel embarks on its journey, it invites guests to experience the world in unparalleled comfort and style. The combination of historical charm and modern luxury ensures that the Orient Express Corinthian will be a sought-after destination for those seeking a unique and enriching travel experience. How will this groundbreaking fusion of history and innovation shape the future of luxury cruising? Our author used artificial intelligence to enhance this article. Did you like it? 4.7/5 (22)
CTV News
11 hours ago
- General
- CTV News
First at Five: Multiculturalism Day
Atlantic Watch Maritimers come together to celebrate the diverse communities that make up the country.
Sydney Morning Herald
13 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
Last stop, end of the world: Take a train to the tip of Tierra del Fuego
This story is part of the June 28 edition of Good Weekend. See all 21 stories. Standing at the end of the world felt a lot like home to me. At the train depot, overlooking evergreen forests and a bay of mountains, I stopped to grasp the scene. The piercing morning sun stalked low, out of sight behind the summits of Tierra del Fuego National Park. But for the signposts in Spanish and unfamiliar trees – Magellan's beech, not Atlantic oak – I could have been on Scotland's rugged west coast. I'd come south – all the way south – to the Argentine city of Ushuaia, at the southernmost tip of South America, in search of epic landscapes, adventure and a historic frontier in train travel. Tierra del Fuego National Park, the shoreline trails of which I was exploring, is home to the 'End of the World' train (El Tren del Fin del Mundo), and it is a fragile leftover from one of the world's most remote penal colonies, of which more later. It also represents a profitable money-spinner for the blossoming tourist industry in this complex region of wild sea channels, twisting fjords and ferocious winds on the borderlands between Argentina and Chile. For my part, I've had similarly thrilling train experiences across the continent. A journey on the Machu Picchu train 25 years ago in Peru; a rooftop ride on Ecuador's zig-zagging Devil's Nose railway; a sunset visit to Bolivia's 'Great Train Graveyard', near the pearly salt pans of the Salar de Uyuni. But this one on Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego is by far the toughest to get to and so has a particular air of abandon – and freedom. The irony is that this is the railway line first built in 1909 by convicts as a 24-kilometre freight line to transport materials by steam locomotive between sawmills and Ushuaia prison. As local guide Grisel Guerrero tells it, no one wanted to live in this far-flung region with little or no opportunities in the 1890s. But the overflowing jails in Buenos Aires, nearly 3200 kilometres away, presented the unlikely solution. 'It was our Siberia,' Guerrero told me, while we strolled Ushuaia's waterfront that morning. 'Like the history of the British in Australia, our government formed a penal colony, sending many of the worst offenders here. It would take up to six months to arrive by ship, so before then it was almost impossible for the Argentinian government to populate this land.' Surrounded by the Beagle Channel and hemmed in by the Fuegian Andes, the landscape is far more dramatic than Russia's vast and unwelcoming North Asian province. As improbable, hard-to-believe-in places go, it's also worth the expense and time to get to. Lining this largely unpeopled coast are empty beaches and river estuaries teeming with brown trout. There are silvery sawtooth peaks and abrupt glaciers. In such beautiful surroundings, it's small wonder that many prisoners decided to stay after earning their right to freedom. By 1952, following an earthquake and landslide, the train had closed. These days, the UK-built convict train – revived in the mid-1990s as a heritage railway – wouldn't rival many for glamour. Nor would it match any Tube line in London for efficiency. The distance you travel is only eight kilometres, with one intermediary stop at gently gushing Macarena Waterfall. Besides that, the toy-town-like train takes one hour to reach the end of the line. In Ushuaia itself, the former prison complex, Museo Marítimo y del Presidio de Ushuaia, now charts the intriguing time line of the country's early penal colony. But the rewards of riding the slowest train in South America are profound. After the clanking of gears, there is the screech of wheels on the 500mm gauge track and the shrill blow of a whistle carried on the wind. The ride from platform to national reserve is admittedly the stuff of a theme park, with staff garbed in cosplay inmate uniforms, but you realise, excitedly, that this is also an invitation into one of the wildest corners of the Americas. Loading For me, the highlight was the intricacy of land and sea that surrounded us at journey's end within Tierra del Fuego National Park. On board, you only have to look out of the window to feel awe. 'This is the end of the world for us,' Guerrero told me, upon the train reaching its last stop. 'Some say that's a negative way of describing Ushuaia, so now we also say it's the beginning of everything. South America, the Pan-American Highway, the start of our lives here. There is no shortage of opportunity and adventure.'
