Recipefiesta

Alpine playgrounds, unforgettable train rides and white-water rafting feature in our readers’ family trips from Norway to the Netherlands

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Travelling by rail in Europe gives you plenty of opportunity for ad-hoc adventure. We were returning from a ski trip in Italy and took the Bernina Express part of the way. We’d heard that if you disembark at Bergün, leave your luggage at the station and take the train back one stop to Preda village it’s possible to sledge between the two stations. So there we found ourselves renting traditional wooden sledges from Preda and walking the short distance to the start of the tobogganing run. What we thought might be a gentle run into town turned into a fast and fun-filled couple of hours as we hurtled down the tree-lined course. At times it felt like we were in the game Mario Kart and at one point a children’s birthday party overtook us, the birthday girl’s sledge trailing balloons. About 5 miles later we arrived back in Bergün, before continuing our train journey onwards.
Layla Astley

As the Peaky Blinders film is released this week, we follow in the footsteps of the Shelbys, make a heavy metal pilgrimage and find the city’s best places to eat, drink and dance

The runaway success of the TV crime drama Peaky Blinders has been credited with boosting tourism to Birmingham and the West Midlands since it first aired in 2013, even though much of the series was actually shot farther north, in Merseyside, Yorkshire and Manchester. The release this week of the Peaky Blinders movie The Immortal Man (much of which was filmed in and around Birmingham this time) will undoubtedly generate a new wave of interest, particularly in the Black Country Living Museum in nearby Dudley, whose authentic recreations of streets, houses and industrial workshops appear in key scenes in the TV show and the film – most notably as the location for Charlie Strong’s yard (pictured below).

A guided walk through North Yorkshire woodland throws up some thrilling surprises by honing in on sound over sight

At the outset, Richard Baines says: “You don’t need binoculars.” This is not what I expect to hear on a walk where the main focus is birds. The sun has yet to rise, but we can see our way across muddy ground crunchy with ice. That is the next surprise in a day that will be full of them: we are still in February but Richard points out that ornithological spring is well under way. “Birds are starting to sing,” he says. “Some, like the crossbill, might already have laid eggs.”

We follow a path up to an open ridge, but bird sounds are conspicuously absent. Richard turns back and heads down into a sheltered wooded valley. We have driven up from Pickering to the North York Moors, an area he has been exploring for more than 40 years, his experiences charted in recent memoir The Rarity Garden. As a 14-year-old budding ornithologist he decided to learn bird songs and calls. “I had spent too many woodland walks being disappointed by not seeing any birds, but I could hear a great deal,” he says. “When I started to prioritise sound above sight, the trees came alive and I have never had a bad woodland walk since.” Our walk today aims to land that message for me.

Hitting the piste in Verbier doesn’t come cheap, but in laid-back La Tzoumaz you can access the same pistes without such a steep price tag

I’m standing at 3,330 metres on a tall metal platform with a heavy harness strapped to my back, gazing in awe at the snow-covered Matterhorn, Mont Blanc and the Dents du Midi ridge. It’s a gorgeous distraction while I wait to be clipped in and launched down the valley at 120 kilometres an hour. This is the Mont Fort zip line, the highest in the world. I sit with my legs dangling over the precipice, then with a stomach-churning clunk the mechanism releases and I speed through the air over tiny figures skiing below. It’s exhilarating and over too soon. I’m grinning ear to ear, my lungs full of high mountain air.

I’m in Verbier, one of Switzerland’s most famous ski resorts. With access to 410km of pristine piste, excellent alpine food and a legendary après-ski culture, what’s not to like? Well, for many, the price. Verbier has long been favoured by A-listers and royalty, with eye-watering prices to match. Happily, there is a way to enjoy the same slopes, with much less of a financial hit. Stay in the village of La Tzoumaz (pronounced La Tsoo-mah), where accommodation can be half the price of Verbier, and you’re one chairlift away from the entire Four Valleys ski area. And as I discover, this “back door” resort has plenty of its own charms too.

I swerved the tourist traps and went on a bar crawl of the city’s bruine kroegen, the cosy, dimly lit pubs that are the Netherlands’ ‘surrogate living rooms’

Is there anything better than a good old British pub? Well, a Dutch person may prefer a bruine kroeg (brown bar). Often nondescript from the outside and thus easy to miss, these cosy, homely, rustic cafe-style bars typically have plain dark-wood furniture, candles on the tables, aged knick-knacks and faded pictures. There will be dim lighting, usually from antique-style lamps, and they make ideal hubs – they are often referred to as a “surrogate living room”.

The name comes from the venues’ tobacco-stained walls and ceilings, which since the smoking ban started in 2008 have been topped up by dark brown paint. Beers and jenevers (Dutch gins) are the most popular drinks, and snacks such as bitterballen (meat ragout croquettes), boiled eggs and borrelnootjes (nuts with a crispy coating) are often available too. The choice of background music is a vital component; soft vintage jazz is ideal, so when I visited Cafe ’t Hooischip the Michael Jackson and Culture Club soundtrack jarred somewhat with the cosy, historic setting.

This rugged promontory is thriving thanks to community-run cafes, restaurants and inns, which can all be visited on a spectacular coastal walk

Cliff is sitting in his farm truck scanning the hillsides with powerful binoculars. “It’s the rams,” he says. “They can stray at this time of year.” I follow his direction of gaze, down a golden hillside covered in bracken and boulders to a dark patch in the valley bottom. “Hopefully not down there,” he adds. “That’s the quaking bog.”

Sometimes a chance encounter can transform your appreciation of an area, and that is about to happen for me. I’m heading up Craig y Garn mountain to catch the sunrise over the Llŷn peninsula and the first rays are already stealing over the tops of distant Cadair Idris, rousing giant shadows from under the trees. Cliff, who also happens to be my landlord for the week, points to the house on a hill above the bog: “Where you’re staying was my great-grandmother’s house – or at least what is now the living room. She kept one pig, one sheep and one cow, and made buttermilk where the conservatory is.”

You don’t have to travel to Japan to see a stunning floral display. Every spring, this corner of Extremadura is transformed as two million trees come into bloom

It’s late March and the villagers of the Jerte valley in Extremadura, Spain’s wild west, are twitchy – as if they’re hosting a party and wondering if all the guests will show up. The event they’re waiting for is the flowering of the valley’s cherry trees, which number about two million. So far, only a handful – a variety called Royal Tioga – have dared to don their frilly spring frocks. The rest are still clutching their drab grey winter garb.

Predicting the arrival of blossom is always tricky, but thanks to an unseasonably wet March the trees are three weeks late when I visit. With snow still cloaking the surrounding sierras, the tourist office in Cabezuela del Valle, halfway up the valley, is hastily finding alternative activities for the coachloads of blossom-seekers from Madrid. As with any nature-reliant activity, such as whale watching or aurora hunting, timing is challenging. But unlike hit-and-miss spectacles involving wild animals, at least I know the blossoming will happen eventually. (Sadly wildfires later affected parts of the Jerte valley last summer, but thankfully few cherry trees were affected.)