Puglia, Italy

The summer has left the water deliciously warm. We paddle into sea caves as stunning as cathedrals

The huge Pizzomunno rock, in the Puglian town of Vieste, feels warm from the September sun as I gaze southwards, watching Castello beach shrug off the weight of high summer. There are a few people in the water or lying on the sand, but the sunbeds and umbrellas have started disappearing, and this two-mile stretch of pale sand is getting back to its unspoilt self.

The 25-metre Pizzomunno sea stack was once, according to legend, a handsome fisherman of the same name, who would meet his sweetheart Cristalda on this spot. Unfortunately, the local mermaids fancied the pants off him too, and in their jealousy dragged Cristalda to a watery death, leaving Pizzomunno petrified by grief.

The ill-fated pair are said to come alive again once every 100 years on 15 August, but if they do so any summer soon, they’ll struggle to find a quiet spot for their tryst. For two or three weeks every August, Vieste – with its old town on a high promontory, its narrow streets and archways, and its newly restored romanesque cathedral – is a magnet for (mainly Italian) holidaymakers. The town receives 80% of its annual two million visits in the space of less than a month. By the time of the Settimana dell’Olio olive oil festival in late August, Vieste is noticeably quieter, and in September peace returns.

We’re staying 25 miles to the south in the small town of Mattinata. Here, about a mile from the coast, it’s “tranquil even in August”, a local tells us. Agriturismo Giorgio (doubles from €59 B&B in low season – 16 September to 31 October) stands on its western edge, walking distance from great restaurants such as Locanda del Maniscalco.

Temperatures climb to 28C most days, and the summer’s heat has left the sea deliciously warm. On our first full day, we drive 10 minutes to Mattinatella beach, where we’ve rented a transparent canoe from local operator Dove Andiamo Sul Gargano (full day €60). We are aiming for Baia delle Zagare (Citrus Blossom Bay), a couple of miles up the coast, but it takes us half the day to get there because we stop to paddle into sea caves as stunning as cathedrals, and picnic on an otherwise inaccessible little beach. The bay itself is famous for its sea stacks, one called “the scissors” for its curious shape, eroded by sea and wind.

This south side of the peninsula is sheltered from any northerly winds, so perfect in autumn. Another day, we swim out from Baia di San Felice to admire the natural sea arch that guards it, and particularly enjoy a trip on hired ebikes (half-day €30) to view these white beaches from the clifftop Sentiero dell’Amore.

The other advantage of early autumn in the Gargano is that it is, paradoxically, a livelier period. The hard graft of summer done, locals prepare to party. Every September Vieste in Love expands on the tale of Pizzomunno and Cristalda, hosting free shows, concerts and children’s events across the historic centre. Mattinata celebrates its patron saint in mid-September with so many parades, concerts, magic shows and fireworks we catch just a fraction of what’s on. And that’s before it goes really mad with its October olive harvest festival.

September is also busy in Unesco-listed Monte Sant’Angelo, whose Archangel Michael festival on 29 September attracts pilgrims from all over the world. The fun bit is a torchlit reenactment the Sunday before, with splendidly costumed angels, archers, bishops and even God himself giving their all in the main square.

Later in the autumn there’s leaf-peeping in the Foresta Umbra a few miles inland. Fast forward to spring in the Gargano and you’ll be rewarded with one of Europe’s highest concentrations of wild orchids, plus more festivals – one celebrating rosé wine in Vieste, for example. Which makes it all the more strange that everyone crowds here in August.
Liz Boulter

Alentejo, Portugal

It’s hard to beat as a base for catching late-summer sun – you may have a pristine beach to yourself

The “queen of fado”, Amália Rodrigues, said Portugal’s melancholic, passionate ballads “came from the sea, the vast sea in front of us”. No surprise, then, in the 1960s, that Amália chose an Alentejo clifftop overlooking the Atlantic to build a creative retreat.

Small waves of artists and sun-seekers arrived in the 70s and 80s, and this south-western coastline continues to attract those looking for a different life; incomers who live side-by-side with locals whose families have been there for centuries, united by the rhythm of the land and the sea. The peaceful, slow ways of rural Portuguese life contrast with the raw natural landscape, and the best part is that it is still blissfully undeveloped.

Take a look at a map and you’ll notice an absence of cities or large towns in this corner of Portugal. The main motorway south from Lisbon heads deep inland, before continuing down to Faro. Even the national roads steer away from the coast. There’s no fast way to reach Alentejo, and when you do, you’ll find time slows down.

Odeceixe (pronounced “oh-deh-shay-sh”) is hard to beat as a base for soaking up late-summer sun. On its beach, black cliffs rise on both sides, the Algarve to the south, the Alentejo to the north. The large, golden beach is a tale of two halves, with the clear, shallow waters of the river ideal for paddleboarding and kayaking, and the sea offering consistently good waves for all surfing levels. Water Element offers surf classes year round, plus hire of surfboards, bodyboards, canoes, kayaks, as well as umbrellas, sunloungers and a massage area.

Those in the know return to Bar da Praia, year after year, in a hidden-away spot (tip: follow the blue umbrellas) perched above the beach at Odeceixe with fabulous views. For 12 years it has been delivering a menu of classics such as Amêijoas á bulhão Pato (clams in garlic, coriander, white wine and lemon).

The village of Odeceixe is two miles from the beach and has a life of its own. Social life moves to the village square after the sun goes down and its bakeries and cafes open early. The village is made up of small houses painted white with coloured borders around the windows and doors. There’s a working Iberian windmill, painted in white and Alentejo blue, with views of the River Seixe snaking through a flat valley to the Atlantic.

With the intense summer heat subsiding, the temperature is ideal for daily walks on the Rota Vicentina – a network of trails taking in nature and historical villages, with inland and coastal routes. Once used only by locals to access secluded beaches and fishing spots, the single-track Fisherman’s Trail is now a well-marked route. There are also 24 circular routes covering more than 155 miles, and some shorter out-and-back stretches ideal for combining with an afternoon on the beach. In late summer, it’s not unusual to have a pristine beach to yourself.

For those looking to pick up the pace, Adventure Riding offers horseback tours for all levels along clifftops and through the countryside (as of 2025, beach rides are no longer permitted in the nature park), including at sunset and in the moonlight.

Tucked away are special places celebrating a simpler way of life, far from big cities and mass tourism. The pair behind Casa Ateliê, Samer Haidar and Lisa Müller, offer pottery workshops and Lebanese food at their bed and breakfast in a village setting to the north of Odeceixe – well positioned for exploring Zambujeira do Mar, Vila Nova de Milfontes and Almograve.

Italian Filippo Pozzi arrived in the area with classical winemaking experience in south-west France and California’s Napa Valley. He set out to restore neglected parcels of land and is producing “unconventional” single vineyard wines. On top of a small hill, surrounded by olive trees, vineyards and cork oaks, Atlas Land quinta (from €100 a night, room-only) is bathed in sunlight from dawn to dusk. There are two double rooms and wine-tasting sessions can be arranged. The nearest town is Aljezur, with ruins of a 10th-century castle and a Moorish village.

Inland from Odeceixe is Monte West Coast (from €104 B&B, two-night minimum), a collection of restored rustic buildings on a farm, with a saltwater pool, kitchen gardens, orchards, and tables and chairs dotted about the wild grass meadows.
Emma Balch

Corsica

I wander deeper into the maze of alleyways where restaurants spill out and diners clink glasses

It’s not just summer that clings on in southern Corsica, so too does the precipitous citadel that hangs on the cliff edge in Bonifacio. It’s a wonder that the walls haven’t tumbled into the Mediterranean in the intervening millennium, but this jumble of terracotta-roofed homes and shops stands proud atop 70-metre-tall white limestone cliffs, on a narrow promontory, to create one of Corsica’s most impressive sights.

It’s a hot Saturday afternoon when I arrive and the narrow, shaded streets within the old town offer a welcome relief. After checking into the Hotel Le Royal (doubles from €76 room-only), a bright, modern hotel, I wander deeper into the maze of alleys where restaurant terraces spill out on to the street and cheerful diners clink glasses. It isn’t long before I’ve reached what feels like the summit, but to get a better view I need to climb up the steps on the citadel walls.

From the corner of Rue des Bocche, the view is spectacular: the inner harbour below and a jagged coast that zigzags into the distance, framed by a hazy backdrop of mountains. A few steps away on Rue du Palais, an enticing bar, L’Assaghju, is serving aperitifs, including the owner’s homemade chestnut liqueur, a sweet and moreish tipple I sip from a stool in the cool stone arches of the bar. She tells me about other liqueurs she’s created from the island’s many signature products, such as clementines. “Have you tried the local wine?” she asks, pouring me a glass of the muscat pétillant, a delicately sweet and gentle sparkling white.

I make my way back to the hotel’s restaurant feeling a little tipsy, gazing at the towering palm trees in the Place Carrega and peering into the ladder-like stairways of the imposing buildings, so steep I wonder how they get any furniture into the apartments.

The next morning, I venture west to the Plage de la Tonnara, 20 minutes’ drive along the coast, to enjoy a different side of Corsica. The surrounding landscape is rocky and arid, but the beach is a crescent of blond sand that descends into a shallow bay of crystalline water warm enough for swimming in October. I spend an hour paddling, reading and people-watching.

Lunch is booked a further 50 minutes around the coast and inland towards the perched town of Sartène, where the landscape changes again. Steep mountains lie ahead and I stop at La Bergerie d’Acciola, a laid-back bar-restaurant serving barbecued dishes under a rustic, timber-framed roof, with a terrace offering views of the surrounding peaks. I order a platter of cheese and charcuterie, including a prisuttu ham, with fat that melts in the mouth like butter; the goat and sheep cheeses are salty and moreish. I banish the thought that my journey will end soon and savour the flavours of the island, clinging on to the joy of its many faces for as long as possible.
Carolyn Boyd

Essaouira, Morocco

Camel rides, kayaking, surfing and horse riding are all on offer on the long, sandy beach

Visitors beware. I went to Essaouira for a day trip and ended up living there for a year. I had driven down from Marrakech (it’s just three hours by road), where the temperature was in the high 30s. I swept round the final roundabout and on to the corniche. The sea was a deep, glittering blue framed by imposing maritime pines, and the sand was sprinkled with coloured umbrellas. A cool breeze wafted in through the window – such a welcome change from the furnace of Marrakech. At that moment, I decided to move and set up home there.

In the summer, the city is rammed with Moroccans on their holidays, but by late September and October it’s much quieter with temperatures down to about 24C.

Essaouira has two distinct parts: the medina, enclosed within high walls, and the new town, which has grown up around it. The medina is small and much more navigable than the Marrakech equivalent, but still with that heady African/Arab mix. Two main streets lead off Place Moulay Hassan, the main square by the port. Avenue Sidi Ben Mohamed Abdellah is known as “tourist street” and parallel is Avenue de L’Istiqlal, “market street”. I like to stroll along market street around 5pm, when all the Souiris (locals) are out shopping for dinner, and fat dates, spicy olives and fresh fruit from surrounding farms are out waiting to be tasted.

To be in the centre of the action, base yourself in the medina at Dar Adul (doubles £59 B&B), a typical riad; or Salut Maroc (doubles from €200), a riot of pattern and colour with rooftop bar and restaurant.

The city has always been a trading port, the transit point for gold, cloth, leather and ostrich feathers coming out of the Sahara and going on to Europe, and there are many treasures to be found, including the distinctive Saharan throws and blankets dyed a deep blue or patterned in sand and black. Halfway up tourist street, traditional and fusion music plays from a shop whose knowledgable owner can introduce you to the rhythms of gnaoua (also gnawa), the music brought to Morocco from west Africa. Dozens of small galleries sell work by local artists, and on Sundays many artists open their studios to visitors in the joutiya flea market in the new town.

Essaouira is also a vibrant fishing hub, and at lunchtime stalls at the port sell a variety of seafood (the sardines are often freshest and cheapest – head to the less touristy stalls farthest away), which you then take to be cooked over charcoal for a few dirhams. Eat your catch with homemade bread and sweet tea, watching the seagulls and cats fight for the scraps.

But it’s the long, sandy beach that attracts most visitors. There’s plenty for the active: kite surfing, surfing, kayaking, quad biking, camel rides and horse riding are all on offer. It is also a great beach for kids and swimming, as the waves and tides are not strong.

My favourite thing to do is to walk along the beach to the town of Sidi Kaouki. It’s about 16 miles (25km) and will take most of the day (or jump in a taxi) but you’ll see horses galloping past and pass locals fishing for octopus perching patiently over the rock pools. Sidi Kaouki is becoming known for wellness as well as surfing. Little boutique hotels such as Kasbah d’Eau (doubles from €340 B&B for two nights), which has just opened, offer lots of sea- and land-based activities.

Every day in Essaouira has to be a sundowner day. You are in Morocco’s most westerly city and the sunsets are glorious. Sipping a chilled glass of wine at one of the beach restaurants, like Ocean Vagabond, while watching the camelteers take their animals home is the perfect prelude to dinner.

There are some great small restaurants in the medina and new town, offering tagine, couscous and grilled sardines, but I love the beef wellington at Umia and the grilled fish of the day at La Coupole. If you’re up for some fun, try the fire show and magicians at Caravane Cafe.

Essaouira has lots to offer but it doesn’t foist itself on you. The people are relaxed, the weather is mild and you get to enjoy Morocco at a slower pace. Writing this has made me realise that it is high time for another visit.
Alice Morrison

Axarquía, Spain

This is the highest of Andalucía’s pueblos blancos, in a land of caves, valleys and ancient trails

There’s something delightful – and practical – about planning your next few days’ activities just by looking out from the terrace of your hotel. At the Hotel Rural Olivia Verde (doubles from €90 room-only) in the village of Comares, you can do just that. Comares, an hour’s drive north-east of Málaga, is the highest of the pueblos blancos, the white villages that dot the Andalucian landscape. It’s in the heart of the Axarquía, a land of valleys, caves, limestone outcrops, white villages and ancient – Roman, Arabic and possibly Phoenician – trails that crisscross them.

Thanks to the village’s many vantage points, including the terrace, you get a 360-degree view of your forthcoming activities.

The hotel (also home to the best restaurant around) is a converted olive mill. From its terrace, there’s a steep 100-metre drop to a dusty road below and to the south is the glittering Mediterranean. But if you’ve made it up the winding road from the plain to Comares, then you’re likely here for the mountains, the walks and the adventure.

Let your gaze drop down and turn inland along that dusty road. Round the bend, you will join up with one of the well-signposted paths that hem the village. Close to the aquifer that has sustained the village for centuries, you’ll probably see climbers scaling a rock face. The village also has its own zip wire.

Now walkers can really get excited. Heading inland, the route called La Teja passes another huge outcrop. In about an hour you will reach the remains of an Arab settlement at Masmullar.

Drop into a cafe in the hamlet of Los Ventorros, or head back to Comares up the track for rest and refreshments at the excellent Mirador de la Axarquía restaurant on the village outskirts. That should be enough for day one.

Lots of people know that the Costa del Sol is barricaded by mountains, but most tourists don’t venture further than crowded places like Ronda. That is a huge shame because the Axarquía needs visitors – no overtourism here – and because a lot of people who appreciate clean air and empty, epic country are missing out.

If you have a bike, head into the campo (countryside) and explore the villages of Cutar and Benarmagosa. If your tyres can take it, bump along the riverbed of the Riogordo towards Colmenar. It will almost certainly be dry, but if the rains do come, beware – the river and the villages that lie along its banks is flash-flood territory.

The majestic peak of La Maroma, the local mountain, is walkable, but at over 2,000m, it’s best to get a guide. The quiet village of Canillas de Aceituno is a good base camp.

To venture beyond, you will probably need a car. The main village on La Maroma’s southern flank is Cómpeta, which is good fun and bustling. I’ve always enjoyed a visit to the long-established El Pilón restaurant.

But most villages have a bustle about them once the summer heat has passed: gone is the ghost-town atmosphere of the remote pueblos blancos, where everyone stays indoors with the blinds down in the hot weather. While many of the annual village ferias (fairs) take place in summer, Nerja’s is mid-October, Comares has its Night of the Candles in early September, while Cutar offers the Moorish-themed Fiesta del Monfi in October.

And the season is lengthening. In late November I was still in my shorts. November used to be when the rains came.
Mark Jones

Konitsa, Greece

The river, fed by mountain springs, holds the most luminous blue when I open my eyes under water

A small bell still hangs beneath the Konitsa bridge to warn those crossing the cobbles of strong winds. Built in 1870 and curving 20 metres above the translucent green waters of the Aoos River, this astonishing stone bridge is thought to be one of the highest single-arched spans in the Balkans. I look upstream from it into the Aoos gorge as the sun rises over the towering mountains.

The summer heat of Greece has mellowed to a warm September glow – and soon autumn will begin to yellow and bronze the leaves of the canyon trees. It’s my favourite time of year to be in this land of mountains, water and stone.

About 40 miles north of the city of Ioannina in north-west Greece, the historic town of Konitsa spreads like an amphitheatre over the lower slopes of Mount Trapezitsa. A zigzagging road from the river leads to its leafy squares and evocative upper town with Ottoman-era mansions and Orthodox churches. I’m staying at the wonderful, family-run Konitsa Mountain Hotel (doubles from €90 room-only), and each afternoon I savour wild mountain tea on the terrace with a panoramic view of the Albanian mountains and the Aoos winding across the plain towards the border.

As part of Unesco’s Vikos-Aoos Geopark, Konitsa is the perfect base for exploring the wider region. The next morning, I drive 15 minutes south to the Voidomatis River. There I follow a marked path along the riverbank upwards from another elegant stone bridge near the village of Kleidonia through a beautiful gallery forest of plane trees that bend low over the water. In the canyon walls above the trail are rock shelters once used by Palaeolithic hunters; below, fish fin slowly against the swift currents in the shadows of the trees. I always succumb to a swim in this river. Fed by deep mountain springs, it’s freezing whether high summer or late autumn, but holds the most luminous blue when I open my eyes underwater.

After a riverside lunch of grilled trout and fresh Greek salad at O Voidomatis taverna (open daytime only) I drive up into the Zagori region. The stunning stone houses and plane-shaded squares of Papingo and Mikro Papigko sit beneath the limestone mass of Mount Tyymfi, but my destination is the village of Vikos, on the edge of the Vikos Gorge – one of the deepest and most extraordinary geological forms in the world. The cooler temperatures of late September and October make walking the path down to the gorge’s turquoise springs far easier than in summer, and the reward after the ascent is a cold drink at the welcoming Viewpoint Garden cafe, set on a natural balcony above the chasm.

During the years I’ve been coming to Konitsa I’ve visited the atmospheric monastery of Molyvdoskepastos near the border with Albania and explored the beautiful villages of Monodendri, Kipoi and Vitsa at the southern end of Zagori. I’ve watched river-rafters on the Voidomatis, swum in the rock pools of Papingo, and listened to long-distance hikers talk about the alpine lakes and mountain refuge on Mount Tymfi. But I always return to the remarkable bridge over the Aoos before leaving.

I stop for coffee and traditional walnut cake at the cafe of the Gefyri Hotel by the bridge, and then walk the path towards the Panagia Stomiou monastery perched on a promontory by the narrowest point of the gorge. Pale boulders break the green-blue torrents while still pools by the banks reflect the craggy cliffs. Kingfishers fizz upriver and dippers dive into the flow, as the immense geological drama of the canyon and its current unfolds. This is a place where the ancient contours of earth and water are close enough to touch.
Julian Hoffman
For information about conservation work on the Aoos River, visit med-ina.org.

The accommodation prices quoted are for October 2025 and were correct at the time of publication