I’m lured by luxury travel, luscious food and wine, and lazing around in the spa. So I was thrilled to discover all of the above – and more – when I went to explore Cognac.

What is the difference between cognac and brandy? Do you know? For those who don’t (and I didn’t before I went), all cognac is brandy, but not all brandy is cognac. Only brandy from the Cognac region is called cognac. And it has to follow a distinct set of distillation and ageing processes.

I was in Cognac to learn about cognac and visit the distilleries. Moving around the region, all the big names jump out at you from every winding road through the vineyards: Martell, Rémy Martin, Courvoisier, Hennessy… but there are loads of smaller independent producers too. The region supports both – those vineyards not big enough to make their own cognac sell their grapes to the big houses.

Cognac Vineyards, Petite Champagne, Charente-Maritime

Employment and the economy in the area is hugely driven by the industry – that and tourism. In 2024, there were over 4,400 winegrowers, 120 professional distillers and 270 merchants operating within the Cognac area. And many of the Cognac houses are still family-owned.

Many – probably most – offer some kind of tour and tasting experience. I was lucky enough to visit (in order) Chateau Montifaud, Hennessy, Delamain, and Rémy Martin. They’re all hugely different, with each visit offering a completely unique experience.

Visiting Cognac

The Cognac region is about halfway down France on the lefthand side. The closest airports are Bordeaux and La Rochelle, but you can reach the area by train and road. I’d recommend hiring a car as it’s a rural region.

Arriving into Bordeaux after a very quick hop and a skip from Gatwick (it’s less than two hours in the air), I was very pleased to see that we were immediately headed for lunch. If there’s one thing – of many things – the French do extremely well, it’s lunch. And I was not disappointed.

Lunch at Restaurant Cave La Quincaillerie

Weaving our way into one of those tiny little restaurants you might easily pass, on an ancient street flanked with shuttered houses, we headed upstairs at Restaurant Cave La Quincaillerie for their set lunch. This little cave of joy is in the Michelin Guide, and deservedly so. An hour or so later, I was happily stuffed with melty goat’s cheese on toast, slow cooked pork with pommes puree, and a greedy plate of cheese from the trolley, all washed down with a bottle of excellent Sancerre.

What a way to kick off the trip. Rubbing my fat tummy, I climbed back into the charabanc for our next stop, Chateau Montifaud.

Chateau Montifaud is a family-owned house that has been with the family Vallet for six generations, notching up more than 150 years of experience. We had a lovely tour, bumbling around the distillery learning about the processes. Nice touch with this tour was having a cocktail shaker handed to us at the start, and with each stage of the tour, a new ingredient added, relative to the information of the moment, resulting in a good shaking at the end of the tour, and a lovely cognac-based cocktail to quaff.

Chateau Montifaud

Where I stayed

After such a good lunch, and more than a little sampling of cognacs at Montifaud, I was pleased to arrive at our hotel, and even more pleased when I saw my absolutely stunning room.

Hotel Chais Monnet & Spa is a gorgeous five-star property right in the heart of Cognac. Sprawling across a wide area, the house used to be a distillery, and the hotel buildings are all comprised of the former cellars, cooperage, ageing halls (chais) etc. The conversion has been beautifully handled, and the property is rich with the tapestry of its history. It has a relaxing spa area complete with inside/outside pool, and several spaces in which to eat and drink in luxury. It’s also a perfect base from which to explore the Cognac region.

My fabulous room at Hotel Chais Monnet Hotel & Spa

After a bit of very welcome down time to digest and unpack, we were treated to an absolutely majestic tasting menu at the hotel’s Michelin starred restaurant, Les Foudres. Course after course came out, delivered with theatrical aplomb, interspersed with amuse-bouches and palette cleansers, and every course paired with a beautiful wine. It was a masterclass in quality and delivery, and it very nearly had me beaten.

Up the next morning and still feeling full…

I launched a rather pathetic attack at some coffee and a skirmish with an egg before we hit the road to visit Maison Hennessy. And what a wild trip this was. I had expected to view the cellars, try some cognacs, hear some history, and we did have all that. What I wasn’t expecting was a fantastic mind-bending virtual reality trip through the Hennessy journey with full AR headsets on, a boat ride over the river to the Hennessy cellars, and a chance to visit the cooperage and watch an apprentice cooper make a barrel from scratch.

An excellent morning at Hennessy

Hennessy is one of the few houses left that have a cooperage on site. And the mathematical and physical balance it takes to make a cask without glue, bind it all together with metal hoops, heat it and bend it to fit, and get the lid on with all its groovy grooves… my little mind was blown. Yours truly, being the sort that gets stuck in, even had a go on the ratchety machine thing that draws the slats together. This was a bit of a once-in-a-lifetime kind of morning – I will forever be able to say that there are glasses of H-dawg circulating that has been laid in a barrel I helped make.

After all this activity, we had a tasting – got to love quaffing Hennessy XO at 10am – and we finished up, sitting in the Hennessy café, eating cognac and raisin ice cream. And this brings me to an important point.

The French aren’t fussy about how you drink your cognac

The French take their food and drink pretty seriously, as we all know. So what I hadn’t expected was to find that absolutely no one is precious about how to drink cognac. They’re happy to adulterate it with water, mixers, ice… There was almost no balloon swirling or pontificating.

The most popular way for the locals to drink it – if they drink it at all, mostly it’s exported – is as a long drink with tonic water and ice. And this is nicer than it sounds. There are all sorts of cocktail variations using cognac. My favourite was a margarita with the tequila swapped out.

Back to the hotel for lunch in their La Distillerie restaurant, and conscious of making such a poor fist of breakfast, I went large on lunch. I felt it my duty to ensure that I tested out their skills. So, appetite sharpened by Hennessy intake, I had canapes, a melange of salmon things, and duck that was so fresh it nearly flew away off my plate.

Lunch at La Distillerie

After a necessary post-prandial forty winks, we were back at the hotel’s excellent bar, the 1838, for a cocktail masterclass. Remember when I said the French weren’t prissy about the cognac? Well, here was more proof, pun intended. Using the local fire water, we made cognac Sidecars, Negronis, and Margaritas. Then got a fantastic tour of the bar, including all the secret back bar areas.

Making (and drinking) cognac cocktails in 1838 Bar

Then into the hotel’s minibus for a short trip to Poulpette, a tiny gem of a restaurant tucked away in Cognac village. Another restaurant that you can find in the Michelin Guide, one of those absolute treasures that has a small but perfectly formed menu. I loved that they had no traditional wine list but all the wines you could order lined up on a shelf, with the price handwritten on the bottle. Like browsing a grapey library, you could have a good nose before choosing.

The restaurant is small enough to feel like you’re having a dinner party with friends. And once I’d shovelled in homemade tarama, a slab of foie gras with a giant oyster mushroom in a citron bouillon, line-caught cod with chorizo and veggies, and (ye gods) a selection of ices – chocolat, marron, saki, sesame – I could barely even breathe. What a way to go though. Have you seen La Grande Bouffe?!

Dinner at Poulpette

Day three

Today kicked off with a trip to the spa at around 11am for a massage and some relaxing time kicking around in the pool. What a cracking way to start the day, and a really good massage too. Having worked up an appetite, er, lazing around in the jacuzzi, we had another utterly dreamy lunch at the hotel’s La Distillerie restaurant, before walking the short distance from the hotel to Rémy Martin.

Rather than visiting a vineyard this time, we were in the Remy historic house and boutique in the centre of Cognac itself. And this was a very slick, almost clinical look at Remy, its history, its artwork, and ultimately a chance to taste its cognac. Paired with dark chocolate truffles, my favourite was the XO (obviously I have expensive tastes). This tour was again completely different to both Chateau Montifaud and Hennessy, and I appreciated that. If all the tours had been the same, it would have felt less special, and less interesting.

Learning history (and tasting cognac) at Rémy Martin

In the early evening we embarked on an extraordinary trip into the countryside, firstly via Maison Delamain, who had laid on a beautiful ‘candle’ lit tasting with oysters and heavenly meaty snacks. It’s a real privilege to see the old distilleries like this, and I urge anyone visiting the area to get to a few different houses. The rich history of Delamain is matched only by the quality of its cognac. Even I was beginning to develop something of a palette for it by this stage.

L-C Chateau Delamain private tasting in the cellars, and R tasting pineau and watching the show at Cognaço Musica

On from Delamain to Distillerie Pinard Frères, in Jarnac, not for a tasting this time, per se, but for a singularly unique theatrical performance, Cognaço Musica. An immersive experience combining music, theatre and (yay) tastings of both pineau (the grape-must drink that’s kind of the stage before cognac), and cognac itself. Although I had very little idea what was going on, it was hugely entertaining. And it’s part of a wider cultural celebration that takes place each autumn, the Ban de la Distillation. It’s a two-day festival of the cultural heritage of the Cognac region, celebrating producers, makers and visitors through tastings, talks and experiences.

Our final port of call was for dinner this evening was Restaurant du Chateau a Jarnac – one of those quintessentially French restaurants that do literally everything properly. And I didn’t even have to think about the arduous task of ordering dinner – they’d laid on a special menu for us: a cognac/bubbles cocktail, fish soup, salmon fillet with creamy risotto, and cognac cake with pears and ice cream. Thank you, and good night.

Dinner at Restaurant du Chateau a Jarnac

Why go to Cognac?

Like much of France, this is a region that really shines when it comes to food and drink. But it’s a particular pilgrimage for those who really want to dig into cognac. The area is understandably saturated with it, literally and figuratively. I had an absolute whale of a time learning about the processes at the various houses we visited, as well as drinking a lot of cognac and eating a lot of stunning food.

It is always a real treat to eat at the little restaurants that you know are always tucked away in ancient French villages but not always easy to find. So if you head to the area, take my advice and try all of the eateries I went to. Also try the cognac and tonic – it works better than you’d expect, I promise.

Everything we ate and drank was faultless, although I did gain about half a stone in the space of about four days, but it was well worth it. And base yourself at the Hotel Chais Monnet and Spa for a real treat. Frankly, I never wanted to leave.

DETAILS

Explore Cognac www.explore-cognac.com
Hotel Chais Monnet Hotel & Spa
Restaurant Cave La Quincaillerie
Chateau Montifaud
Maison Hennessy
Poulpette
Rémy Martin
Chateau Delamain
Ban de la Distillation
Restaurant du Chateau a Jarnac

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Exploring Cognac. Hidden wonders and a feast for the senses appeared first on Silver Magazine.

In Chinese astrology, each year blends one of the twelve zodiac animals, coupled with one of the five elements. When the Horse meets Fire, the result is a powerful double dose of yang energy. It is outward-looking, restless, and fuelled by a desire for freedom and self-determination.

This is not a subtle year. Fire Horse years tend to coincide with periods of rapid social change, cultural shifts, and personal turning points. The last Fire Horse year in 1966 is often referenced for its global turbulence and radical rethinking of established norms. And while history never repeats in neat cycles, there are always patterns.

The Fire Horse represents movement away from what feels constrictive, and towards what feels vibrant, even if you’ve got no real clue where you’re going.

What does this mean for you?

On a personal level, many people may feel an internal ‘nudge’ – something that becomes increasingly harder to ignore. Have you been thinking of change, or a dream you’ve wanted to fulfil? You might feel a growing impatience with situations that once felt tolerable and a persistent awareness that something has to change. The Fire Horse is not about gentle awakenings. It brings urgency, and action.

Many will find themselves questioning where they have been shrinking, compromising too much, or living according to other people’s expectations. Career paths that once felt secure may suddenly feel limiting. Relationships may be reassessed through a sharper, more honest lens. Creative urges often re-emerge after long dormancy. None of this necessarily means burning everything down, but it does suggest that complacency becomes uncomfortable.

What the Fire Horse brings into focus

The Horse is associated with independence, stamina, charisma, and a strong instinct for self-preservation. It dislikes confinement, both literal and emotional, and thrives when it can make its own choices.

Fire magnifies these traits. It heightens passion, ambition, and the need for expression. Together, they create a year that sticks personal freedom firmly at centre stage.

Fire Horse years often coincide with louder voices, stronger opinions, and less patience for systems that feel outdated or unjust. People speak more plainly (fingers crossed for ChatGPT to pick this up).

Innovation booms, particularly in areas tied to communication, technology, and culture. There could be a sense that the world is speeding up, even when day-to-day life remains much the same.

This heightened tempo can feel exhilarating, but it might also feel destabilising. The Fire Horse is a catalyst. It exposes what is no longer sustainable and pushes it into view.

Harnessing the energy without being consumed by it

The most constructive way to work with Fire Horse energy is through conscious direction. The year supports action, but not aimlessness. It favours people who are willing to take responsibility for shaping their own course of action, rather than waiting for permission or perfect timing.

Start with clarity. Not a rigid thing like a business plan, but an honest understanding of what you want more of. And what you want less of. When you know which direction feels right, even loosely, the Fire Horse provides momentum to move that way.

Small, decisive steps matter more than grand gestures. A conversation you have been avoiding. A course you finally enrol on. A proposal you put forward. These actions compound that forward motion. They signal that you are willing to harness that momentum in your own life.

Fire Horse physical energy is strongly indicated. So physical movement becomes especially important. Regular walking, stretching, strength work, or any form of exercise that feels sustainable can help regulate nervous energy and sharpen focus.

And as you’d expect from such a showy animal, visibility is another recurring theme. This is a year that rewards showing up. Sharing ideas, taking up space, finding your voice. That does not mean shouting the loudest, but it does mean resisting the urge to stay hidden out of habit or self-doubt.

Fire burns hot, but it also burns out, so build in some rest. Protect your sleep, and maintain boundaries around work and digital noise.

Portents, pitfalls, and the bigger picture

Fire Horse years can be unpredictable. They are associated with sudden shifts, surprising reversals, and events that alter the course of things quickly. Symbolically, they tend to expose weak foundations. Anything built on weak structures underpinned by easy convenience, denial, or imbalance will struggle to stay solid.

This could mean the end of a job, the breakdown of a relationship, or the collapse of a plan that once felt concrete.

The main shadow of the Fire Horse is impulsivity. Decisions made purely on adrenaline can lead to unnecessary fallout (watch out anyone with ADHD). There is a difference between courageous action and reactive madness. Take a deep breath and check in on those wild ideas!

Overwork is another risk. The drive to do more, be more, and move faster can push people past healthy limits. Sustainable growth beats frantic expansion, even in a year that celebrates speed.

Despite its volatility, the big promise of the Fire Horse year is liberation. Liberation from situations that no longer fit, or from self-imposed restrictions. Also, from who you have perhaps shrunk to become.

If you meet the year with curiosity, courage, and a willingness to generate your own (r)evolution, this could be a stormer.

Time to saddle up, and ride out.

Bunty Whitstable

The post What does the Year of the Fire Horse mean? appeared first on Silver Magazine.

There’s a raft of data suggesting that many women are having more sex after the menopause. Good. Excellent in fact. Long may this continue.

And yet, the same time, changes to the vagina and vulva may be setting in, leading to increased UTIs, leaking, splitting skin, night-time loo trips…and painful sex. To my intense irritation, women are unlikely to be told about this at any point in our lives. Or the straightforward, effective and cheap solutions available to fix this.

Vaginas aren’t embarrassing, they’re a fact of life, and now is the time to tend them as carefully as any other part of your body.

The deeply unappealing cluster of symptoms is known – rather horribly – as Genitourinary Syndrome of Menopause (GSM), and they are basically down to a lack of oestrogen. It’s also something that’s historically been spoken about in hushed voices, laughed at, or totally ignored. Studies suggest that it affects around eighty per cent of women. In reality, from years of interviewing menopausal women, I’d say that number is more likely to be 100 per cent, and especially as we head into our fifties and beyond.

I do know what I’m talking about…

I shan’t go into too much personal detail, but I have some experience here. After treatment for breast cancer, and having to come off HRT aged 51, the main menopause symptom I noticed – within just a few weeks – was vaginal dryness, pain, and skin so dehydrated that it split and bled. It felt like the ultimate insult to be honest. What’s more, nobody had so much as mentioned it as a possibility. It’s only because I write about menopause that I joined the dots myself.

I am grumpy about my experience, because anything to do with cancer treatment makes me feel cross. But I am far more angry about the sheer number of women suffering in silence. This is why menopause education is so vital. If you are reading this with a sense of recognition, please make a GP or practice nurse appointment. Yes, it’s awkward speaking to a healthcare professional about your private parts; but they have honestly heard it all before.

Once you develop GSM it is not going to resolve on its own. Left untreated, it will worsen. As I say, too few of us are even aware that a) the vagina and vulva are affected by peri/menopause, and b) that the best solution is appropriate for almost everyone.

You will perhaps have seen many remedies advertised, and I’d recommend avoiding most of them. You do not need expensive salon treatments. There is research on-going into laser treatments but it’s mostly pretty inconclusive.

What you do need is vaginal oestrogen

This is available on prescription and is applied directly to the area. It comes in the form of a cream, pessary, or ring. Normally you use it once a day for two weeks, and then twice a week indefinitely. Even if you have had a hormonal cancer, it is almost always considered absolutely safe (these are official guidelines obviously, I’m not a medic). There are very few women who are not allowed to use it, as it’s not systemic, meaning that it doesn’t affect the whole body. And you can also use it alongside HRT. There is no breast cancer risk (if you are wondering).

Between doses, a decent vaginal moisturiser can help with extra hydration and comfort. Again, you can ignore expensive options (though there are some rather nice ones available). They can be prescribed or bought over the counter. You may wish to use a lubricant during sex to reduce friction, and here I’d recommend the YES Water-based personal lubricant or Sutil Luxe.

If you can’t bear the thought of discussing this, all the solutions are available over the counter or even online. Including vaginal oestrogen, although this isn’t a cheap route.

Alongside all this, do your pelvic floor exercises, and do them religiously. The pelvic floor is a muscle just like any other, and it needs working out.

What I find staggering is how profoundly GSM can affect our lives. I have interviewed women whose relationships, confidence and daily comfort have been wrecked by it, as well as women post cancer who aren’t ‘allowed’ vaginal oestrogen.

Once I had a prescription my symptoms entirely resolved within a couple of weeks. Easy. But also, so pointlessly and time-wastingly hard.

Alice Smellie

Alice Smellie is a journalist writing for many national publications, including Daily Mail, Telegraph, and Marie Claire, and is co-author of Cracking the Menopause and Menopause Is Hot: Everything You Need to Know to Thrive with Mariella Frostrup, and a co-founder of campaign group, Menopause Mandate. She lives in Somerset with her three children and two dogs.

The post There’s a reason why your vagina is dry and unhappy appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Tinned fish is having quite the moment. Open Instagram or TikTok and you’ll see neatly stacked sardine tins, glossy anchovies laid out on toast, tuna dressed with olive oil and lemon rather than hidden in mayonnaise. What was once a quiet cupboard staple now feels insanely fashionable.

This is not just social media hype; UK sales figures tell the same story. Over the past couple of years, the value of tinned and ambient fish sales has risen, with shoppers buying more tins and, crucially, better ones. Sales of MSC-labelled tuna in the UK & Ireland jumped by 78% year-on-year in 2023, for example. This suggests rising consumer interest in higher-end, sustainable, and certified options. Tuna still dominates by volume, but sardines, mackerel and anchovies are growing fastest. Premium tins and certified options are leading the charge.

So why is tinned fish suddenly so popular?

There’s a few things at play here; social media, of course. Standout tinned fish stans like the fez-wearing Marcus Ansell and his dog, King Arthur, from Tinned Fish Reviews are hard to avoid, with millions of views across all platforms. You can even buy t-shirts sporting his catchphrase, “Let us decant the fish.” Power to this bloke actually for getting through some surströmming recently. He’s a braver man than I.

@tinnedfishreviews I tried Surströmming for the third time. It was not nice for me. #surströmming #tinnedfish #cannedfish #tinnedfishreview #fyp #fermentedfish #surstromming ♬ original sound – TinnedFishReviews

Apart from social media chatter, there are also dedicated shops popping up, such as The Tinned Fish Market, in Borough Market, or online stores like Fish Tins.

Part of this is economic perhaps. When food prices rise, people look for ingredients that stretch. But it also reflects how many of us eat now. We want food that lasts, is easy to use, and which feels like a conscious choice rather than a last resort. Tinned fish fits neatly into that space.

It also suits modern cooking habits. Fewer ingredients, faster meals and less waste – or at the very least, packaging that can actually be recycled. One tin can become lunch or supper without much thought. That practicality explains the growth, and the health benefits explain why people stick with it.

Personally, I also really love a lot of the packaging design. What is it about a tin of fish that can look so appealing if it’s wrapped in a beautifully designed paper outer? I know it’s not just me.

The health benefits of tinned fish

Tinned fish is an easy way to add high-quality protein to your diet. It contains all the essential amino acids your body needs for muscle repair and maintenance. That matters at every stage of life, but it becomes even more important as we age.

A standard tin of tuna contains around 25 grams of protein, which is comparable to a chicken breast. Sardines and mackerel offer similar benefits. Protein helps you feel full, stabilises energy levels and reduces the urge to snack. If you want meals that actually satisfy, this matters more than calorie counting ever will.

Then there are omega-3 fats, one of the biggest reasons nutritionists continue to recommend oily fish. Sardines, mackerel and anchovies are naturally rich in these fats, which support heart health, help reduce inflammation and play a role in brain function and mood.

UK dietary advice encourages eating oily fish at least once a week, yet many people struggle to do this with fresh fish alone. It spoils quickly, costs more, and potentially requires planning. It also, to some degree, requires cookery skills to prepare. Tinned fish removes those barriers. The canning process preserves omega-3 content remarkably well, meaning you lose very little nutritionally while gaining convenience.

Bone health is another area where tinned fish quietly shines

Sardines and salmon canned with their bones provide a meaningful source of calcium. During the canning process the bones soften, so you eat them without noticing, but your body still benefits from the minerals.

A single tin of sardines can supply over a third of your daily calcium needs, alongside vitamin D, which helps the body absorb calcium properly. This combination supports bone density and becomes increasingly relevant for women as they age, particularly post-menopause. For those who eat little dairy, this is a good way to fill a nutritional gap.

Vitamin B12 is another nutrient many people underestimate. It supports nerve health, red blood cell production and energy levels. Deficiency becomes more common with age and among those who eat less meat. Tinned fish provides a reliable source of B12 without any extra effort. Tuna, sardines and mackerel all contribute useful amounts, which can make a real difference if you often feel tired, despite eating what you think is a balanced diet.

You also get iron and selenium. Iron supports oxygen transport in the blood and helps prevent fatigue. Selenium supports immune function and thyroid health. These nutrients become particularly important if you have reduced red meat intake or are navigating periods of stress or hormonal change.

There is also the matter of shelf life

Tinned fish lasts for months (or years, if you look in my cupboard). On busy days, having a tin in the cupboard often makes the difference between eating real food and reaching for something ultra-processed. It’s also dead easy to use – even if you can’t get it together to make a proper meal, sardines on toast – for example – is delish, and super quick.

Sustainability plays a role too. Many tins now carry recognised certification, reassuring shoppers who care about sourcing. Smaller fish such as sardines and anchovies reproduce quickly and sit lower in the food chain, which often makes them a more sustainable choice. Choosing these fish supports marine balance while still meeting nutritional needs, something many people now consider part of everyday decision-making.

Sustainability plays a role too. Many tins now carry recognised certification

What makes this tinned fish revival feel different from past food trends is its staying power. It is not novelty-driven. It reflects a broader shift towards food that is affordable without feeling cheap, nourishing without being complicated, and practical without losing pleasure.

It also suits how we live now. And, of course, it photographs beautifully. Neat tins, glossy fish, golden olive oil, great packaging design. Social media amplifies the aesthetic, which feeds interest and keeps the category visible.

The biggest change, though, is perception. Tinned fish no longer feels like something you eat because you have to. It feels like something you eat because you want to. The rise in interest in more unusual tinned fish and seafood bears this out too.

How to buy the best tinned fish

When buying, look for simple ingredient lists and fish packed in olive oil or spring water. Rotate types to spread the nutritional benefits. Tuna for protein. Sardines for bones and calcium. Anchovies for intensity and omega-3s. Mix everyday tins with one or two better-quality options across the month.

And don’t forget the more exotic options. Caviar, squid, shellfish and even baby eels all fit into tins nicely – so get brave and branch out a bit.

Ultimately, the rise of tinned fish tells a wider story about how we eat now. You want food that supports your health without demanding time you do not have. You want value without compromise. And apparently you want to see a man in a fez feed his dog bits of tinned octopus and mackerel for your entertainment.

If you already eat tinned fish regularly, you are ahead of the curve. If you don’t, it’s time to get on board.

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Why is tinned fish so popular all of a sudden? appeared first on Silver Magazine.

You don’t need weeks of planning to give something she’ll genuinely love. These are some of our favourite last-minute Valentine’s gifts for her that still feel thoughtful, indulgent and special.

Elemis Superfood Essentials set, £54 (products worth £84 separately)

We love Elemis anything, but this is a fabulous gift for someone wanting a treat for their skin. A big old dose of ‘superfood’ hydration and glow, designed to feed your skin and nurture your complexion. Set includes Superfood Midnight Facial, Multi Mist, and Facial Oil.
Get it here

Laura Mercier Caviar Hydra Crème Lipstick – 520 Flame Challis, £36

Does anything say super-sexy as provocatively as a daring red lip? Providing up to eight hours of pigment-true wear, this hydrating formula resists creasing, feathering and fading, and is a win for more mature skins because of this. Drying down with a sculpting satin finish, it helps to nourish the skin, minimising the look of fine lines and dryness.
Get it here

Molton Brown Fiery Pink Pepper Eau de Parfum, 100ml, £140

Part of the exciting Molton Brown Pink Pepper range. Imagine a humid dusk in the tropics. Jewelled birds of paradise flaunt across warm air. The scent of crushed sweet spices drift over colourful rooftops. Entice curiosity with aromatic adventure. Smouldering. Sultry. Stirring. That’s what this scent is like…
Get it here

LUSH – You Are Lush bath bomb duo gift set, £12

Let your Valentine know how lush they really are with the creamy ‘Love Letter’. Then sweep them off their feet with the uplifting Life In Rosy Light bath bomb — sure to melt hearts and soften baths. Love this little limited edition set – grab it while you can.
Get it here

St. Tropez Cherry Macaron Self Tan Kit, £40

We’re a sucker for anything St. Tropez, and this limited-edition duo is a joy to use. The Classic Mousse delivers that familiar streak-free, natural-looking glow the brand does so well, while the new Cherry Hair & Body Mist adds a playful, indulgent scent that feels like a proper treat. A great pick for glow-getters who like their tan with a little extra fun.
Get it here

Givenchy Irresistible Eau de Parfum Nectar, 35ml £72, 50ml £100

This new addition to the Irresistible family is playful, indulgent and seriously moreish. Think juicy rose, creamy pistachio and a warm vanilla-wood base that lingers beautifully on the skin. It feels romantic without trying too hard, and we can’t stop spritzing it.
Get it here

Odylique Organic Rose Gift Set, £68.50

A beautifully put-together set for anyone who loves rose or craves calm, comforted skin. Inside you’ll find Odylique’s most-loved organic rose products to cleanse, tone and moisturise, all gentle, nourishing and quietly luxurious. A thoughtful, easy win.
Get it here

Subversive Scents by The Rolling Stones Sticky Fingers Gift Box, 100ml £105

This one’s bold, sultry and a little bit naughty. Patchouli, bourbon and deep, lingering warmth make this a fragrance that shifts effortlessly from day to night. The gift box and cheeky card seal the deal. Lazy gift? Maybe. Brilliant gift? Absolutely.
Get it here

KIKO Limited Edition Flirt Alert Heartstopper Shiny Lipstick, £22

Creamy, glossy and scented with cherry, this is pure Valentine energy in lipstick form. Shades range from everyday nudes to statement reds, and the formula feels rich without being heavy. Plus, the kiss-covered bullet is almost too cute to use. Almost.
Get it here

Neal’s Yard Remedies Vegan Wild Rose Beauty Balm, £43

A cult classic, now vegan. This multi-purpose balm cleanses, hydrates and boosts radiance in one simple step. We love it for dry patches, glow days and that gorgeous wild rose scent. One of those products you’ll keep reaching for.
Get it here

bareMinerals GEN NUDE Blonzer Blush + Bronzer, £27.50

A clever hybrid that gives skin a soft, rosy warmth, like a natural flush rather than full-on bronzer. Buildable, easy to blend and flattering on everyone. A grown-up upgrade from the bronzers we lived in back in the day, and we’re very into it.
Get it here

Marc Jacobs x Murakami Eau de Parfum, 50ml, from £90

A joyful reimagining of a classic, with Murakami’s iconic flowers decorating the Daisy bottle in vibrant colourways. The scent itself is creamy coconut, soft white peony and sweet praline, pretty, playful and very wearable. A collector’s piece that also smells lovely.

The pink, green and yellow will be available at Selfridges from 28 Jan, and will then launch on 25 Feb nationwide alongside the blue fragrance, but this one will remain exclusive to Boots. Shop Marc Jacobs other products here.

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The post Last minute Valentine gifts for her appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Over a roast in the local pub last Sunday I found myself literally gritting my teeth in frustration. One girlfriend told me that she only flosses twice a week. Another merrily confessed that she has an annual dentist appointment, but ‘sometimes I forget’! Oh, so funny. I, meanwhile, see the hygienist every three months, and the dentist twice a year. I brush and floss at least twice a day. Who has the best teeth of all? Guess. Not me.

I put this firmly down to menopause. Oral health symptoms are only too common at this time of life, and I seem to have most of them; dry mouth, shifting teeth, and less than optimal gum health (according to my hygienist).

I am obsessed with teeth. Absolutely obsessed. And never more so than now, aged 53, firmly postmenopausal and peering into my mouth like it’s a crime scene. As I say, I put most of this down to menopause, with a grumpy nod to the actual ageing process. Every part of the body is affected by oestrogen, or a lack of it, including the mouth.

Dr Sam Jethwa at Bespoke Smile (and the 19th president of British Academy of Cosmetic Dentistry) tells me that many of his patients come to see him in their forties and fifties, baffled by the changes in their once-excellent teeth.

So what goes wrong, exactly?

Hormonal changes, he points out, can decrease salivary gland output, causing some women to experience a dry mouth. What’s more, saliva protects our mouth, so when there’s less of it, bacteria can breed faster and food debris is less likely to be washed away. This can lead to tooth decay, bad breath, infections and gum problems.

This last is – annoyingly for me – not just about mouth health. Develop periodontitis, or end-game gum disease, and not only might you lose teeth, but the associated inflammation can spread throughout the body and raise the risk of heart disease, diabetes and even Alzheimer’s. In spite of my efforts, every time I see the hygienist she patiently tells me how to brush my teeth. I am 53. Neither of us enjoys my visits.

Next up – shifting teeth, again linked to hormones. Bone loss in the jaw may decrease, leading to loose, or even lost, teeth. Anyone else have braces in their teens and think that meant you’d have good teeth for ever? Yeah, me too. And in the early nineties they didn’t give you a retainer. I had braces in my late thirties (for the second time) and in spite of wearing a nightly retainer, they are once again inching inwards.

And finally – teeth chip and stain, meaning they are now less than sparkling. You might find the trend for perfect white teeth annoying. Why should we have to bow down to societal pressure and exhausting standards? But it’s a fact that good teeth mean a comfortable mouth, easier eating (seriously – you don’t want to be stuck on soft foods) and are a good indication and impression of overall health. There’s no need to go full Hollywood smile by any means, but maintenance matters.

Read more: Why people lie about their tweakments to their other halves 

Thankfully, there are plenty of solutions

Sam recommends reducing alcohol and caffeine, which both dry the mouth. Try chewing sugar free gum, drinking plenty of fluids (though not alcohol and caffeine and rinsing with water after eating. So far, so obvious. As is flossing daily and brushing teeth twice a day – before breakfast and before bed.

I think that the strangest menopause mouth problem is what’s known as burning mouth

When it comes to cosmetics, Sam points out that a little can go a long way – veneers and composite bonding can help to both strengthen the teeth, and allow them to appear aesthetically pleasing.

I think that the strangest menopause mouth problem is what’s known as burning mouth – where it feels as though your mouth has been set on fire from the inside. Here, you might want to avoid toothpaste containing sodium lauryl sulphate or SLS (this is what makes it foamy, but can also increase the burning), as well as swerving spicy foods and alcohol.

Here’s the good news. Sam says that there is a solution for almost every menopausal mouth problem. Teeth can be strengthened, straightened, whitened and – if necessary – replaced. Habits can be changed.

I second this. What I’ve learned in years of writing about the ageing mouth (so glam) is that the mouth is a constantly evolving story and it’s never too late for a happy ending.

Go on love, give us a smile!

Why not try….

TePe Hydrating Mouthwash, £8
Dentek Easy Brush Eco Friendly interdental brushes, £9.25 for 6 packs or £2.33 individual pack, boots.com 
Biotene Dry Mouth Toothpaste, £4.32
Whites Rose Gold Sonic Electric Toothbrush, £39.99

Alice Smellie

Alice Smellie is a journalist writing for many national publications, including Daily Mail, Telegraph, and Marie Claire, and is co-author of Cracking the Menopause and Menopause Is Hot: Everything You Need to Know to Thrive with Mariella Frostrup, and a co-founder of campaign group, Menopause Mandate. She lives in Somerset with her three children and two dogs.

The post What the hell has menopause done to my teeth? appeared first on Silver Magazine.

It’s early December and I’m realising that, although the sun is shining, perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to wear a short-sleeved summer dress on this particular expedition. One of the group lends me a thin scarf which keeps the chill off my chest and neck, but the slightly biting wind still whips about my goosebumped bare arms.

The guide and locals are in winter mode ready for our trek – puffa jackets, snoods and woolly hats – so I’m sticking out like a sore thumb. But I just tell myself the 12-degree breeze is positively bracing, and that a bit of air to the bottom never did anyone any harm before proceeding to hike up the steep slope to the Acropolis.

Yes you read that right – the Acropolis in Sicily…

Founded as a Greek colony in 580 BC, ancient Akragas (now Agrigento) rose to become one of the Mediterranean’s wealthiest city-states. Its Doric temples – seven in total, built between 510 BC and 430 BC – symbolise its golden age under tyrants like Theron, who commemorated victories like the 480 BC Battle of Himera against the Carthaginians.

Designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1997, the 1,300-hectare park remains Europe’s largest archaeological site, where tales of Carthaginian sieges in 406 BC left scorch marks on temple walls, still visible today.

We visit four ancient monuments, each more inspiring than the last

First comes the Temple of Heracles, the oldest on the site, built in the late 6th century BC and now reduced to eight columns after an earthquake. Then there is the vast Temple of Olympian Zeus, begun in 480 BC, once more than 110 metres long and famed for its colossal telamons standing up to 7.5 metres tall.

The tour then takes in the instantly recognisable Temple of Castor and Pollux, marked by four columns reconstructed in the 19th century, before ending at the Temple of Concordia. Built in the 5th century BC and later converted into a church in the 6th century AD, it is the best preserved of them all, its survival owed to that later life.

We also got to admire the metal sculpture of a fallen Icarus, a new addition to the site by artist Igor Mitoraj. The Polish sculptor’s monumental 2011 bronze installation hugs a 1000-year-old olive tree, its gnarled trunk a living relic from the site’s medieval olive groves, symbolising Sicily’s enduring agricultural heritage since Phoenician times.

Our guide Luigi tells us there’ll be an exam at the end of the tour but, fortunately, he’s just messing with us. What actually waits at the culmination of the trek is something far more pleasant.

Time to roll up our sleeves…

Deep within an oasis of cacti and palm trees was a beautiful cooking school and restaurant. In the kitchen area, we’re introduced to the chef and watch reverentially as she tosses dough in flour, pats the resulting pizza bases into shape, and deftly arranges a few toppings. Olives, tomato passata, spinach and cheese, before she tosses the pizzas into the fiery oven. Then it’s our turn.

One of the group gets a bit over-enthusiastic and piles his toppings way too high, causing a near-disaster in the oven. The pizza catches fire and, as the chef tries to rescue it, it collapses and has to be tossed into the embers! Despite me not being the greatest of cooks, I’m relieved my creation emerges in one piece. Within a minute or so, the sizzling results are shovelled out onto wooden boards, ready for consumption.

My pizza, even though I say so myself, is not only easy on the eye (I got a bit arty) but is also absolutely delicious with all the same toppings but arranged differently. After wolfing down our creations in the restaurant, we’re presented with a vegetarian smorgasbord of delight: pasta with lentils, roasted potato wedges and cubed pumpkin, followed by a dessert of almond tart and Sicilian orange mousse. And lashings of local vino of course.

Too stuffed to walk back, we thankfully get a lift from the lovely Adler hotel/spa driver Adriano, who tells us that in a past life he was a session musician touring with the likes of Emeli Sandé. That’s a whole another story.

In a single five-day winter’s trip to Sicily, I saw so much

I was privileged to stay in the capital Palermo at a beautiful private residence/palazzo – the Palazzo Pantelleria, run by the charming and accommodating Francesco Cazzaniga, nephew of the owner. And I also got to attend a talk by author Francesca Campioli on her book – A Parigi Con Stile – about fashion designer Coco Chanel.

I visited the local marina and ate the most delicious ice-cream I’ve ever tasted; I had salted caramel and dark chocolate and Francesco had mango and prickly pear. Our choices were chalk and cheese. That was after the breakfast of local croissants, fresh fruit and coffee that Francesco had kindly prepared for me. Needless to say, eyes bigger than belly, I couldn’t finish the ice-cream.

Back at the palazzo, l had a wander around the property

Housed in the 14th-century fortified outpost, built in the late 1300s and later owned by the Spanish Requesens family under Charles V, the palazzo was rescued from ruin in 2002 by Francesco’s collector uncle Massimo Cazzaniga. Cazzaniga transformed it over two decades into an 11,000-square-foot home museum of Baroque frescoes, Venetian tiles and eclectic antiques from global ports.

In the backstreets behind the Palazzo Pantelleria, on our walk to the marina, Francesco told me about the days of the Spanish Inquisition, when prisoners were executed outside the nearby Palazzo Chiaramonte Steri – the 14th-century Gothic stronghold turned Inquisition tribunal from 1604 to 1782. Legend says the local executioner had to scurry, hooded and incognito, through the narrow alleyways, hoping he wasn’t spotted or recognised by locals who disapproved of his actions and choice of career.

Under Spanish Habsburg rule from 1479, the Holy Office targeted Jews, Muslims and “heretics” in Sicily’s diverse melting pot, leading to mass expulsions in 1492 and brutal interrogations in Steri’s graffiti-scarred cells, where desperate prisoners etched poems in Sicilian, Latin and Arabic-Judaic, invoking Dante’s Inferno amid tortures like the rack and waterboarding.

I didn’t think a night at the Palazzo Pantelleria could be surpassed

But then the taxi arrived ferried me to the heavenly Adler Spa Resort Sicilia two hours away from the capital. I say ‘heavenly’ because this stunningly-designed eco-spa is perfect in every way. When I wasn’t pinching myself awake from the blissful dream I thought I was having, I did actually feel like I’d died and gone to heaven.

On a hillside overlooking the Agrigento coast in Siculiana, sitting alongside the Torre Salsa Nature Reserve, this eco-luxe retreat, built with humidity-regulating Sicilian clay walls and volcanic rock cladding, offers thalasso pools, Pilates sessions and farm-to-table Sicilian fare in a serene Mediterranean paradise.

The highlights of my five-day trip most definitely included the pizza-making in the Valley of Temples, but then there was the wine-tasting at the Donnafugata winery – where the Rallo family’s 170-year legacy, revived in 1983 by Giacomo and Gabriella, yields acclaimed vintages like the passito Ben Ryé from UNESCO – protected Pantelleria vines; the swimming in the heated infinity pool at the Adler Spa resort; the one-night stay at the Bella Palermo and that overall feeling of living in the most beautiful dream. I can’t imagine I’ll ever again feel such pleasure in such a short period of time.

December travel info:

Jacqui travelled with Ryanair from Stansted to Palermo airport, return flight £130. She stayed at Travelodge Stansted prior to the flight.

She enjoyed her one-night stopover in Palermo at the Palazzo Pantelleria residence. Contact Francesco Cazzaniga at info@labellapalermo.com  for more details and check out the website

The wine-tasting and Valley of Temples excursions were arranged via the Adler Spa Resort Sicilia.

Jacqui Deevoy

Jacqui Deevoy has been a freelance journalist for over three decades, starting out on teenage magazines, then later working for women’s magazines worldwide, and national newspapers including the Daily Mail, the Mirror, Express and Telegraph. These days, as well as writing for magazines, papers and websites, she produces documentaries and hosts a Monday night talk show for Unprecedented TV.

The post A Sicily holiday in winter: ancient wonders and everyday joy appeared first on Silver Magazine.

And they’re not wrong; 20 degrees, blue sky, sea warm enough to get in without completely the ability to breathe, and even coming back with a tan line. But is it worth the five hour flight? In short: yes. But there’s definitely a few things to note…

Me and my wonderful best friend searched Lastminute, scouring for an affordable December holiday, some much-needed rest before the height of holiday season. Working in hospitality and events is a lot this time of year.

We wanted sun, but we were on a bit of a budget. Neither of us have any particular pull to Dubai, and South America and Asia are a little too far for a long weekend.

So why did we choose Cyprus?

Apart from the fact that with careful booking, this little holiday cost us a very respectable £150 each, we got nicely timed flights from Gatwick to Paphos and back, and a two bed apartment about a 20 minute walk from the main strip.

This was both our first time visiting the island so we didn’t know what to expect. We knew it was going to be low season, but we weren’t sure how much so. Would there just be locals, immigrants and expats, or would there be lots of tourists too? We also wondered if there was going to be an overwhelming amount of British people since it’s definitely a place that has been British-ified.

Cyprus from the air

We stepped off the plane at Paphos airport, which was small with parts still being built, from what we could tell (a recurring theme, as you will find out). From the landing strip to the walk inside, you could see brown hills spanning everywhere you looked, with dotted green trees. It was still a very Mediterranean landscape but it reminded me of hills from Chihuahua in Mexico. A welcome change from England’s cold, grey skies.

The first day, it rained

Not Mediterranean storm rain, but a smattering. Met Office hadn’t mentioned rain, and we quickly learnt not to trust the forecast. I’d say take a light raincoat though. Luckily it stopped pretty quickly, and the sun made an appearance.

The flight time from Gatwick was estimated for around 4.5 hours but it felt like we were landing for about an hour. You have to do a loop around the island to get to Paphos airport and it just felt endless. A cab via Bolt (their version of Uber) set us back €38 so not too bad. There is a bus, the 612, but it was too confusing to understand when it was coming, and we wanted to get in the sun as soon as we could.

The sun in Cyprus is in the sky for much the same time as England for winter daylight…

…maybe a little earlier in the morning, but by 5pm it’s dark, and pretty cold. It’s still 16/17 degrees but it’s definitely not micro shorts and summer vest weather.

We were staying at Arthemus Cynthia Complex which has 6/7 blocks of rooms and apartments, and four pools. I can imagine every pool is packed in the summer, but they weren’t heated and were colder than the sea. So there were a few sparse tourists (and some cats) sunbathing, but no one swimming.

I don’t know what you’d pay in high season, but for a two bed with a nice balcony and all the amenities, including a bath and a washing machine, we were very happy.

The view from the balcony wasn’t anything special, we could see the below pool, a couple of the other blocks, the Amazon Mini Mart at the end of the street, and a new block of buildings being constructed.

We were a 20–30-minute walk away from Katos Paphos main area, which houses a long strip of cocktail bars and restaurants. And even in December there’s a large number of men outside these places offering a 10 per cent discount because “you’re a such a pretty lady, oh my god.” Maybe it’s more intense because there’s fewer people, but honestly some of them would not take no for an answer. No, I don’t want to eat at the restaurant you’ve got a captive pelican outside of, thanks.

Paphos strip at night

Our first night

By the time we’d checked in, dropped our bags off, made our way down to the strip for the first time, it was already dark, and it was cold. We settled for a cocktail and one of the trashiest and cheapest looking bars, and headed off to bed.

Now, me and my friend are not big partiers. I’m more of a get up early and go on a hike kind of girl, and she’s more of a read a book in a hammock in the sun kind of lady, so we weren’t there to club, and it’s a good job too.

In December it’s like a ghost town in large of parts of the back streets. Desolate bars taken over by colonies of cats, restaurants with no lights, and the occasional sports bar with five loud British men yelling at the screens.

The main strip however is all open. There’s a large selection of places to eat, from seafood to pasta, but not much choice for genuine Cypriot food, and definitely not all that great for a vegan. I mostly ate veggie burgers, which are nice, but not anything I can’t have at home.

Vegan burglar

On day two we started the day late, I had an online zoom interview at midday, so we didn’t go anywhere prior to this for fear of not making it back on time (it went well, thanks for asking).

We decided to take a stroll down to Paphos Castle, see the tombs and all the historic bits, which was all very nice. But very quiet and not all that accessible this time of year. It’s not like stepping off the bus and seeing the pyramids, but it’s nice to see some of the islands culture. Although I feel most people holidaying in Cyprus aren’t there to learn about its history.

Read more: Why Anguilla is the best place for a Big Birthday

The walk along the strip in the day was a lot nicer than at night. Don’t get me wrong, you’re still bombarded with comments and invites, but everything looks a lot prettier. There are people busking Christmas music, iguanas and their owners sitting by the port side, and warm enough you could walk around in shorts.

I feel like they try to be festive, there’s Christmas music playing everywhere, weekend Christmas markets, light up led… boats, whatever Christmas is to you, hey? But I think being English, my idea of Christmas is cold and wet and dark, and hearing a samba remix of Feliz Navidad on repeat everywhere did feel surreal.

We went to The Harbour restaurant for dinner, where there’s a great beach biew, and they had a solid five vegan options. At this magic place, my friend got a chicken gyro filled with salad and chips for less than €4. What a win!

We enjoyed a couple of cocktails there, and then wandered on, deciding to head back up to the apartment and get evening ready. For us this doesn’t mean getting glammed up in skimpy dresses and makeup, but more extra layers as the sun was going down.

Later that evening…

We discovered  Pingouino, a lush lounge with a heated outdoor space. They showed the football but it felt so far from a sports bar, and we returned for another evening. The cocktails weren’t too expensive either; I think the classics were all around the €9.50-€10 mark, which was a little more pricey than a lot of places, but the couple of extra euros made all the difference to the quality of the drinks. It also seemed to be the place that (at this time of year), wasn’t full of just British tourists, and rather locals, which was a much nicer vibe.

Pingouino, Paphos

We got a little tipsy and headed to bed, ready for a beach day ahead

Now, to spare you some disappointment if you decide to venture to Paphos, Coral Bay is not so named because of its abundance of coral, but because they thought it sounded nice.

It’s a lovely beach, about a 25–30-minute cab ride, or two busses away, with sandy and clear waters. We got there around 10am and it was still quiet, just locals going for a picturesque run or morning swim. Quite a few of them in – dare I say – the skimpiest Speedos I’ve ever seen.

The pictures of the bay in summer shows thousands of people lounging under umbrellas and the sea heaving with swimmers. In December, it’s not so much like this. The beach bar and the activity centre was well and truly closed, although you could still shower, and there were changing rooms and toilets. But if you were hoping to hire a lounger and umbrella or even a glass bottomed canoe, you’ll be disappointed.

By this point we’d learned not to trust Google Maps. A few long walks met with closed and very much not-opening-any-time-soon bars and restaurants taught us this. My best advice is maybe don’t go to that really far out of the centre, even if Google says it’s open. Because chances are it might not be – the Google listings are not always up to date.

We were determined to get in the sea

So we’d come with sandwiches and boxed wine, bikinis and rented towels, what more could you need? Obviously we got in the sea, it was crystal clear blue, and you could see shoals of little fish. The tanned locals were saying it’s too cold, but we were never going to listen.

It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold by any means. I’d say it’s about as warm as late June in England. I think we stayed in for a solid 15 mins, and then lounged on the beach for a few hours, downing dodgy Cypriot box wine, and got our tan on.

We’d heard of caves the other side next bay, so we decided to walk along the coast to find them. Unfortunately we never did, and I was sad to have missed out. Maybe it was blindingly obvious, but we were too sun- and wine-kissed to see the signs?!

Either way, lots of locals and other tourists told us we’d missed out, so if you’re there, go and have a look for me?!

From beaches to donkeys

On our final day, we decided to visit Animal Rescue Cyprus, which was a 10-minute walk from our apartment. This is Cyprus’s oldest no-kill shelter, which offers sanctuary to animals like cats, dogs, horses and of course donkeys. What they do is fantastic, they help to minimise over-population in animals by neutering them. They feed them, take care of them and give them medical attention. The sanctuary can be overwhelming; there are a LOT of animals. Some of the dogs are tied up, and look intimidating, but they all love the attention. They’re tied up because they don’t always get on with other dogs, but they all have beds, food, water and shelter.

When you arrive, you just go straight in, making sure to lock the gate to stop donkeys escaping, and I would recommend only bringing food if you are confident around animals. The second you whip out some food, you’ll be surrounded by an array of large animals. I almost got my head kicked in by a horse while sitting on the floor feeding some cats, so watch out!

It was a lovely visit, but it was a hard one. They’re doing everything they can for the animals but they’re not working with much so it can feel a little bare. But like I said, all the animals were happy there and loved some pats and snacks. We made a cash and food donation, and went on our way.

Heading back to Pingouino we enjoyed some dinner, a few drinks, stroked a few passing cats before calling it a night. We had an earlyish flight and not much idea on how fast security would be through the airport. I have some nightmare flights before!

Chicken at Pinguino

On our last morning, we got booted out at 10am

So we read books in the sun by the pool and grabbed a cab to the airport. The airport is small and the technology feels like Gatwick used to when I was a young kid. No liquids over 100ml, everything separated, the oldest scanners, a whole two rows of security. It’s a small airport, but it’s got some good food options, and even an outside café/bar area.

The flight back was bumpy, we got unlucky on turbulence, but otherwise it was fine. The flight each way is just under five hours, which is a little long for a 5-day trip, but with a glass or two of wine, and a late night behind you, you can sleep through it, as I discovered.

Cyprus is well worth a visit for some winter sun. It’s cheap, it’s accessible, it’s not as far or as pricey as other locations for winter warmth, and it’s got a certain British charm. Check it out, but take a real map with you as well as your mobile.

• • • We stayed at the Arthemus Cynthia Complex, which was €xx per night – obviously expect to pay more during the high season
    • Flights were by xxx and cost € / £ from Gatwick to Paphos – again, prices will vary
    • Holiday booked via Lastminute.com
    • Bolt from the airport to the resort €38

Lili Lowe

Lili works across all the channels; writing articles, taking photographs, creating content, and designing eye-capturing imagery. She’s an animal-lover who cries just seeing a picture of a baby sloth.

The post Cyprus for winter sun – is it actually warm and sunny enough!? appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Age UK’s recent statistics show that over 1 million older people are spending Christmas day alone this year. More than 1 in 10 people (11%) will eat Christmas dinner alone, and 5% won’t see or speak to anyone the entire day.

It’s hard to be alone for the holidays, but there are ways to beat the loneliness. Here are a few of our suggestions on how to still make the most of the season.

Find local events

There are plenty of local events on at Christmas time to help communities connect and enjoy the holidays together. Local hubs, churches, libraries, pubs and more are often hosting festive events.

You could attend a Christmas dinner hosted at a local community hub, or a carol service at your local church. Or you could pop down to a nearby pub and see what events or live music are happening that day.

There are also charities designed to help communities come together to improve wellbeing and beat loneliness. Ramblers offers wellbeing walking groups, while Reengage have social groups for older folks looking to make new friends in their local area.

Chat online

If you’re able to reach family and friends online, video calls are a great way to stay connected when you’re apart. But for those who can’t, there are plenty of other ways to use our phones and the internet to connect with others.

Charities like The Silver Line (run by Age UK) offer support for people aged 55+ who are experiencing loneliness. You can give them a call, and they’ll happily chat with you, offering support and friendship in difficult times.

Whether you’re feeling down, or just want a quick chat, their lines are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, so there’s always someone to talk to.

Make Christmas day special, just for you

Some of us aren’t up for going out on Christmas, or maybe don’t have the means to do so. But that doesn’t mean Christmas can’t still be a special day.

Why not make a delicious Christmas dinner for one (or order your favourite takeaway), or put on your favourite film with a nice glass of wine. Dust off some of the things tucked away for a ‘special occasion’ and use them to make the day a little more special.

Try to reframe the day not as one where you’re stuck by yourself, but as a day dedicated to you. Whether it’s some nice food, a good book or just a cozy pyjama day in bed, make the most of it and do something special for yourself.

Make Christmas special for someone else

Volunteering is a great way to give back to others at Christmas. Local food banks, shelters and more are always looking for volunteers, especially during the cold winter months.

By volunteering, you can chat with fellow volunteers and those you’re helping, all while making a real difference to people’s lives. Consider spending Christmas morning dishing out food at your local soup kitchen, spreading warmth and joy to those who need it most.

Not only will you be helping those around you, but you’ll boost your own mood by seeing the positive impact of your work. It’s a truly rewarding way to spend the holidays.

For more information on finding local volunteering opportunities, click here.

Let yourself feel lonely

Keeping busy can be a great way to distract yourself from feeling lonely, but it can also be good to stop and take time to feel these feelings too.

Loneliness is something a lot of us will experience this Christmas. It’s important that we allow ourselves to feel this loneliness, to take control of it so that we can lessen the power it has over us, and continue with our lives. After all, if you shine the light on darkness, it disappears.

Accept that you feel lonely, take time to understand and process these feelings. And, when you’re ready, choose to carry on.

You can find support and advice on dealing with loneliness here.

Aiden Winn

Aiden is an editorial and production staffer at Title Media. He’s constantly looking for opportunities to have fun and get creative, whether it be art, baking, storytelling… you name it!

The post How to beat loneliness at Christmas appeared first on Silver Magazine.

The Dolomites rise like jagged cathedrals from the South Tyrolean landscape, their blindingly white faces scarred by a forever of wind, frost and snow. So, remind me again why I’ve decided to go winter trekking here?!

Designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2009, these mountains, part of the Southern Limestone Alps, are not just a picture-perfect backdrop for a pretty holiday snap. They’re a living part of the once-Austrian landscape, exhaling mist at dawn, inhaling the shadows at dusk.

In winter, they don a mantle of snow that transforms them into a vast expanse of whiteness, where every ridge has a story to tell. One of the peaks – the Sassolungo – which I saw as a giant upright foot, rocky toes pointing skywards, was shockingly steep. Yet I’d heard that many locals had climbed it.

The beauty of the mountains and the icy air was a literally breathtaking combination. It was against this awe-inspiring canvas that I embarked on a 14km guided hike. My trepidation was somewhat tempered by the promise of discovery…  and the reassuring presence of our leader, Lara Holzknecht.

The Sassolungo or Langkofel on the left is the highest mountain of the Langkofel Group in the Dolomites. Sasso piatto or Plattkofel is the flat mountain on the right. Photo Michiel Ronde

Lara, the sales and marketing manager at the Adler Spa Resort Dolomiti (where I was staying for three nights) was six months pregnant, yet strode ahead with effortless grace. “Hiking is everyday stuff for me,” she told me with a smile, her cheeks flushed.

Her words calmed my anxiety. Two years earlier, I had shattered both ankles on the rocky slopes of Comino, Malta’s diminutive sister island. The awful memories of surgery, leg casts and six months in a wheelchair still lingered. A troublesome sacro-iliac joint didn’t help. But, I reasoned, if a pregnant Lara, fearless and brave (though, it has to be said, a couple of decades younger), could do it, then so could I!

My bragging rights fell short…

When I sent friends and family back home live videos and photos of the day’s snowy excursion, a few said “Oh, you’re skiing!” and “Amazing! I didn’t know you could ski!” The truth of the matter is I cannot ski. I attempted it for the first time aged 56 and it was a disaster: poles flailing, legs rigid, ego bruised on the nursery slopes. A Kurt Cobain lookalike called Hubert was my instructor and he despaired daily at my uselessness: I could barely walk in the skis let alone actually ski. “At least I’m trying,” I whined daily. Hubert was not impressed.

After my previous disastrous experiences on the slopes, I wondered now, as we exited the car at the foot of the mountains, how I was going to fare. I didn’t even have a reconstructed ankle back then. I suppose this time I had an excuse, I thought pathetically.

Our group was mixed, but all women, each bringing their own quirks to the trail. There was a woman a bit younger than me, who confided that she too bore the scars of ankle reconstruction – metal plates, pins and wires anchoring her bones – though she mentioned it far less obsessively than I did mine.

A teenager, raised amid the sun-baked hills of Cyprus gazed wide-eyed at the vast expanse of snow. “I haven’t seen snow since I was a little child!” she exclaimed. “I’m so going to make a snow angel!”

A California girl, new to winter’s whims, discovered that snow could be treacherously slippery. Another spirited young woman instigated an impromptu snowball fight. Then there was the professional photographer, laden with cameras, lenses and tripods. How she hauled that hefty load up the slopes without collapsing under the weight of it all, I’ll never know.

We set off from the Adler Spa Resort Dolomiti…

This is a luxurious haven embedded in the heart of the Val Gardena, and had been my glorious home in the mountains. This five-star retreat, with its expansive 170 rooms, is a calming blend of Alpine elegance, relaxation and wellness. The deliciously-scented spa – just a small part of the whole resort – spans 3,500 square metres, boasting indoor and outdoor pools heated to a blissful 34°C and separated by sliding doors (yes, sliding doors actually IN the pool), saunas infused with pine essence, and treatment rooms where therapists wield ancient Tyrolean techniques.

My own indulgence the previous day – a deep-tissue massage targeting back, neck and shoulders – had been transformative. Hannah, the massage therapist, hands like forged steel wrapped in silk, had kneaded away years of tension from my lower back, leaving me supple yet fragile, as if my muscles had been reset but not yet road-tested. Little did I know the hike would provide the ultimate trial.

The dark path wound gently at first, skirting the base of the Dolomites with the mountains commanding every vista. The Sassolungo group loomed to our left, its 3,181-metre peak a serrated blade against the cobalt sky, while the Sella massif formed a colossal amphitheatre, its cliffs plunging into shadowed abysses.

Sunlight danced on the surface, turning the landscape into a glittering expanse that begged to be captured. I used my iPhone to take photos, wishing I had a ‘proper’ camera, whilst thinking what I’d really like to have brought with me was an easel, a palette, a few brushes and some paints. I decided I’d take pictures on my phone camera with a view to doing a painted version once home: whether that’ll ever happen is yet to be seen.

For much of the route, we followed a well-trodden track

The snow compacted into a forgiving ridged ribbon that crunched satisfyingly underfoot. Lara led with unerring confidence, pointing out landmarks: the tiny hamlet of Ortisei below, its onion-domed church a speck in the valley; the distant gleam of the Alpe di Siusi, Europe’s largest high-altitude meadow, now blanketed in white. The air was pine-scented and bitingly pure. I tried to imagine the vista in the summer with animals grazing and cowbells tinkling. I promised to look up some images online when we returned to the hotel. Conversation flowed as we walked: it was only towards the end that I realised trekking was twice as tiring when chattering. But as the kilometres accumulated, a companionable silence descended, broken only by the rhythmic pad-squeak pad-squeak of our steps.

Towards our journey’s end, the worn trail ended and we started to traipse through virgin snow, untouched drifts that rose to mid-calf. The Dolomites still loomed majestically, still gleaming but darker now, more sombre.

Our destination, the Adler Lodge Alpe, where we’d been promised lunch, appeared as a distant smudge on the horizon. It refused to draw nearer. In fact, the more we walked, the further away it seemed to get! My mind wandered to sinister tales: I remembered reading the book Alive!, the harrowing account of the Uruguayan rugby team’s Andean plane crash ordeal, where mountains stretched endlessly, sustenance scarce, survival descending into the unthinkable. Why was I thinking about that now? “I hope we don’t get stranded and have to eat each other,” I blurted out, my voice carrying on the wind. Fortunately, I don’t think anyone heard.

And then lunch at the lodge

My back aching from the therapist’s thorough pummelling and my legs unaccustomed to such exertion since scaling Machu Picchu 18 months prior, I lagged somewhat on the final stretch. A short, cobbled incline led to the lodge. “Hooray! We made it!” I gasped, lungs burning. “Bit breathless now though.”

“That’ll be the altitude,” offered my metal-ankled companion, her stride unbroken.

“Oh, it’s not because I’m really unfit then?” I laughed, relief flooding in.

“Not at all,” she replied kindly. “We’ve just trekked seven kilometres across quite tricky terrain. You did really well.”

Seconds later we were walking through the front entrance to the exquisitely-designed lodge.

In the foyer we were instantly too hot. Tearing off our outer layers, we adjusted to the warmth of the lodge’s interior. Lara showed no hint of weariness, she and her unborn child seemingly unfazed by the expedition. Her poise was inspiring; I sensed she had conquered far sterner paths in these mountains she called home. In fact, she’d told me earlier that she’d climbed the foot-shaped peak as a young girl, with her uncle.

At the Adler Lodge Alpe, a cosier sibling to the main resort with just 32 rooms, we were welcomed warmly by the manager. The lodge, built entirely from local materials – larch, oak and pine – pays homage to Namibia, inspired by the original owners’ travels.

Abstract artwork and sculptures evoke African savannahs, contrasting exquisitely with the Alpine setting. Colourful zigzagging patterns on some of the wooden walls contrast with the simplicity of the others. We were given a brief tour: spacious suites and chalets with private saunas overlooking the cirque of peaks; a cosy lounge where fireplaces crackle with applewood; and the restaurant, its panoramic windows framing the Dolomites in all their glory.

So what did we eat?

At a long table on the terrace extending from the restaurant, as a local accordionist filled the air with lilting Tyrolean melodies, we savoured a feast of regional delights. Platters overflowing with speck and salami from local farms. Artisanal cheeses aged in mountain cellars, venison tagliatelle in a rich juniper sauce, and mushroom pappardelle redolent of forest floors. Dessert was Kaiserschmarrn – fluffy shredded pancakes dusted with icing sugar and accompanied by tart redcurrant compote – accompanied by a deliciously golden and syrupy dessert wine (Roen, from local winery Cantina Tramin).

As the sun dipped behind the peaks, painting the snow lavender and rose, I reflected on the day’s conquest. The Dolomites had tested me, yes. Ankles, back and resolve all pushed to their limits. But they had also healed something deeper. Fear of fragility, born from past mishaps, dissolved in the crunch of snow and the camaraderie of new friends.

In the shadow of the Dolomites, these timeless and permanent giants, I emerged stronger, ready for whatever peaks (and troughs) lay ahead. The Adler Spa Resort Dolomiti and its lodge had not just hosted me, they had reignited my wanderlust. I will return, metal ankle and all, to paint those vistas for real.

Details of the trip

Jacqui was hosted by the Adler Spa Resort Dolomiti, where the trek was arranged. She lunched at the Adler Hotel Alpe. www.adler-resorts.com
Flights from London Gatwick to Verona with easyJet starting from around £100 return, Easyjet.com
Roen wine from Cantina Tramin

Jacqui Deevoy

Jacqui Deevoy has been a freelance journalist for over three decades, starting out on teenage magazines, then later working for women’s magazines worldwide, and national newspapers including the Daily Mail, the Mirror, Express and Telegraph. These days, as well as writing for magazines, papers and websites, she produces documentaries and hosts a Monday night talk show for Unprecedented TV.

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