Audi hasn’t wasted any time with its mid-term update for the A8, which arrives just a few months after the launch of the new Mercedes-Benz S-class. In an effort to keep its flagship sedan competitive, Audi has given the A8 upgraded powertrains, more equipment, and a fresh new look.

Believe it or not, the brand’s trademark "Singleframe grille" has gotten smaller. The unit’s height has diminished, now sporting seven horizontal blades rather than eight, but it does hang over a singular lower air intake that stretches across the width of the car—except for the S8, which keeps its pair of intakes. The headlights feature a new, less aggressive contour, and, in Europe, customers get their choice of xenon, LED, or Matrix LED headlights—the latter's high beam is emitted from 25 single diodes on each side, which are individually dimmed or switched off to avoid blinding drivers in oncoming vehicles. (Unfortunately, because of 1960s legislature banning active headlamps, those Matrix LEDs won’t be coming to America.) The taillights are restyled as well; they’re now connected by a horizontal strip of chrome.

The A8 W12 is less differentiated from lower-grade A8s than before, and, of more importance, it doesn't receive any engine upgrades. The naturally aspirated 6.3-liter W-12 remains unchanged, still churning out 500 horsepower—and in terms of torque, it can't hold a candle to the twin-turbo 12-cylinder units from BMW and Mercedes. While the W12 continues atop the A8 hierarchy, performance enthusiasts likely will opt for the S8 anyway—its 520-hp, 4.0-liter twin-turbo V-8 carries over unchanged, too.


The supercharged 3.0-liter V-6 jumps from 290 horsepower to 310 in European specification, and we expect that its 333-hp rating stateside will remain. Europe’s non-S twin-turbocharged 4.0-liter V-8 gets a bump in power from 420 to 435 horses, a change that is likely to be mirrored in this market. And the 3.0-liter V-6 TDI, rated at 240 horsepower in the U.S., now makes 258 horsepower.

Every A8, except for the not-for-American-consumption hybrid, comes with all-wheel drive and an eight-speed automatic as standard. And all versions of the A8—again, with the exception of the hybrid—can reach a governed top speed of 155 mph. (Well, in Europe, anyway; U.S.-market A8s, bar the S8, currently are limited to a slightly bizarre 130 mph.) We’re hopeful Audi will reconsider such an odd limit when the updated model comes to market.


Apart from the updated powertrain and looks, there's not a whole lot that’s new with the A8. Audi says that the trunk now is easier to load, there’s an Active Lane Assist that grabs the steering wheel to correct your driving should you meander into other lanes, and a self-parking function. Oh, and, just as has been recently added to the new S-class lineup and available in a number of BMWs for some time, the A8 will be available with a head-up display.

Audi says the upgraded A8 will be available in the U.S. "at some point," likely as a 2015 model. There is no definite word yet from Audi of America on the powertrain choices and the availability of goodies, apart from those trick Matrix LEDs, of course. U.S.-specific details should be available closer to the car’s on-sale date.

‘I felt miserable – completely stripped of my personality’ Susanna Lau, known as Susie Bubble, blogs at Style Bubble, as well as writing for Elle and Dazed. She is also a consultant for brands including Selfridges and Gap Insouciance. Effortless. Chic. These are the words that define my style achilles heel as I’m none of those things. I put my money where my mouth is when it comes to fashion – wearing and supporting the creative (often wayward) young designers I write about. I unashamedly put a lot of effort into what I wear, spending hours on the hunt for, say, a destroyed vintage kimono. I like things that are, to most people’s eyes, a bit ugly, as my wardrobe is a mad cacophony of colour, print and texture. Preconceived ideas of what is chic generally give me the willies. French style is the culmination of those three words. Or at least that’s how they’ve sold it to us mere non-French mortals. It’s Françoise Hardy in a short shift dress peeking at you through her perfectly mussed up fringe. It’s Lou Doillon doing the same in a sheer white T-shirt and a Maison Michel hat perched on the head just so. Susie, as Valentine. Facebook Twitter Pinterest Susie aims for Valentine-style insouciance. Photograph: David Levene French style also means cool girls looking intimidating on Purple Diary (hipper-than-thou website where nipples, cigarettes and black and white photography go hand in hand). Valentine Fillol-Cordier happens to be someone who has frequently appeared on the site. With her stylist and muse credentials, Valentine does have a touch more whimsy to her look than yer average head-to-toe-in-black French chicists but she adheres to the core principle that less is ultimately more. Taking on Valentine’s style for a day or two was always going to be difficult. I did a quick Google search to find her 10 rules of style and they involve things that I either lack in my wardrobe or don’t know how to employ properly. Lo and behold, inside the bags that she has filled for me are those exact wardrobe failings – a sharp black blazer, an array of simple white shirts and a mass of cashmere scarves, alongside some of Valentine’s personal selection of French chic props. In the midst of menswear fashion shows in Paris, when I’m normally wearing my own ragtag mishmash of outre London designers, a heavy dose of Comme des Garçons and offbeat vintage pieces, I tried my hand at French chic à la Valentine. I donned a thin grey cashmere poloneck, a pair of blue skinny jeans and some discreet flats. “You look miserable,” remarked my colleague from Dazed magazine when she saw me trudging down the street. I felt it. Even though I was wearing my own stripy Miu Miu coat as a form of armour, the outfit underneath made me feel naked, in a number of respects: a) It’s not a forgiving combination unless you’re model-esque and slight (which Valentine is) and, more importantly, b) I felt completely stripped of my personality. I felt muted and not myself. I couldn’t walk up to my friends and yak on about the shows and discuss what we’d been seeing. I didn’t feel like I was visually and genuinely representing what my opinion was. As we approached the gaggle of street style photographers outside the Kenzo show, another colleague said bluntly, “I wouldn’t shoot you wearing that outfit.” I kept my head down and scurried into the show. All I could think of was that I’d rather have French kids jeering and madames tutting at my zany outfits on the Métro than wear what I was wearing. Style swap – Valentine Fillol-Cordier and Susie Lau Facebook Twitter Pinterest Fashion polar opposites Susie and Valentine. Photograph: David Levene Cool French girls apparently don’t carry bags. They waft around with just an intellectual tome in hand and c’est tout. Kindles are a hindrance to French chic, n’est-ce pas? Valentine lent me a copy of Georges Bataille’s L’Erotisme and carrying that around tipped me over the edge. I opened the book while waiting for a show to begin, confronting my GCSE French skills head on and praying that the people next to me didn’t think I was being an unsociable pretentious plonker. That night, I wore the vaguely less terrifying outfit of black blazer, white silk shirt, black cropped trousers and brogues to a low-key dinner with friends. I don’t smoke but carried Valentine’s Charlotte Olympia cigarette clutch for effect. Cue loud cries of, “What happened?” and, “WTF?!” ringing around the table. Towards the end of the meal, when much red wine had been consumed and I was slowly worming my way into this fictional French chic persona, a few of my friends conceded that I did actually look quite cool. They couldn’t put their finger on what it was that made me look “cool”. Had I miraculously acquired je ne sais quois? The short-lived experiment was more excruciating than I had anticipated, particularly when I was wearing the bare-all mum jeans and grey poloneck. It was the feeling of being in somebody else’s skin that really emphasised why my clothing choices are what they are and why Valentine wears the clothes that she does. There’s a reason why I’m comfortable in a bright pink faux fur-trimmed red patent coat and not a sharp black tailored blazer. I’m past the age of grasping at this intangible notion of French chic. I know who I am and what my style raison d’être is, and if that involves a headache-inducing, print-filled, colourful ensemble with three or four bags shoved on the arms – then so be it. ‘I don’t think I’d ever get laid again if I dressed like this’ Valentine Fillol-Cordier is a consultant for brands including Charlotte Olympia and Isa Arfen, and is a fashion editor for magazines such as Violet and L’Officiel Hommes Valentine, as Susie. Facebook Twitter Pinterest Valentine goes full Bubble: statement visor, loud trainers, chaotic print coat and cat bag. Photograph: David Levene I grew up in Paris and started modelling at 14. Right from the start, I was more interested in the clothes than the mechanics of the job. In fact I think I worked for as long as I did as a model because I loved clothes so much, I had an opinion on how they should look. I mean, I was not the perfect model – I’m short and I have sideburns – but I’ve always been fascinated by the way clothes work together. Styling became my “proper” job slowly. Although I started doing it when I was 16, it was only around when I turned 25 that I realised this was what made me happy: consulting on collections, styling for magazines and brands. Susie Lau, aka Susie Bubble in Valentine Fillol-Cordier's grey poloneck and jeans Facebook Twitter Pinterest Susie has a pop at Valentine’s minimal chic. Photograph: David Levene/David Levene It’s a funny thing at the moment, working in fashion and coming from Paris. This idea of French dressing, of being Parisian as a style statement rather than an accident of geography, feels a little crazy to me. I guess my look kind of fits the ideal – a little quirky but very classic – but I think the girls who work at Vogue wear more French labels than me. Everything I wear is so simple – jeans, white shirts, rollneck jumpers – and all the “style”, if you want to call it that, comes from me being very precise about the length of the trousers, the cut of a jacket, and then changing it to suit my mood with accessories. You know, carrying a bag that makes me stand a different way; tying a vintage scarf round a jacket to alter its shape – I really believe in the power of a scarf. Style doesn’t come from buying new things, it comes from thinking about your clothes. I think that was the biggest thing for me to get my head around when I saw Susie’s clothes. Here’s me, pulling a belt 2cm higher or considering what colour socks to wear with these particular jeans, and then here’s these clothes – all by the young British labels that Susie champions on her blog – that leap out and mug you. When I pulled her picks out of the bag, I put everything on, like a kid – the hat, the shades, all of it. It felt like not being able to stop eating handful after handful of candy. But once that sugar rush fades, it’s a different story. These are clothes to be seen, not worn. They shout, “Look at me, I work in FASHION!” I adore working behind the scenes of the industry now – I don’t want to be so camera ready. These are outfits made for Instagram. I admire Meadham Kirchhoff – it’s a shame they’re not showing this season – but I don’t think the pink shredded latex coat that I was sent to wear is avant garde or pushing boundaries. Valentine, as Susie. Facebook Twitter Pinterest Valentine in Meadham Kirchhoff: ‘It felt like not being able to stop eating handful after handful of candy.’ Photograph: David Levene Clothes throughout history have been related to social evolution; on that level these clothes are deeply uninteresting. They are just dress up. Phoebe Philo or Mrs Prada push boundaries more because their clothes are deeply intellectual (though the deep thinking comes at a price, so thank God for Cos). There’s a sensitivity to the clothes, ideas, you recognise the references and how they’ve been explored. I couldn’t see any thought process in this shredded latex coat. Also, on a physical level, wow, wear this coat and you suffer. The feel of that rubber is pretty gross against your skin and it’s so, so heavy. I was working on the autumn/winter 2015 Isa Arfen collection with Serafina Sama when I did the style swap. Of course the big pink coat got the biggest reaction in the studio and of course no one could take me seriously. It didn’t complement me or who I am. It was weird bringing such a loud item of clothing into the studio when we were creating our own collection. Isa Arfen is elegant and fun; the sense of humour is so different. We were a little overpowered. The dress and coat I was sent to wear worked better. Pattern and print is the Peter Pilotto signature, but there’s something very ladylike about this new collection. Actually wearing their designs made me think differently about the label. That was a nice thing to discover.

It was sunrise. Shrouded in mist and dabbed with 2,000-year-old cypress trees, the vast craggy range of Taiwan's Jade (Yushan) mountain – at 3,952m the highest peak in north-east Asia – lay before me like breakers in a stormy ocean. Much of the appeal of Alishan, the country's dramatic mountain region, lies in getting there – on a small steep-grade train that winds round the peak, passing banana trees, bamboo plantations and dense walls of firs. After dawn, I found myself drawn to a nearby cluster of food vendors. A woman with a rose-pink hat sat in front of a vat of "thousand-year eggs" a prized local delicacy – although "hundred-day eggs" would be a more accurate description of their preservation period. She opened one up and showed me how her lime-and-clay marinade turns the whites into brownish jelly and the yolks to radioactive green. "Try one?" she gestured with a wide grin. I'm with Dr Seuss on green eggs: "I do not like them here or there, I would not eat them anywhere." Least of all when they smell strongly of sulphur and some people say they're soaked in horse urine (untrue, but believable if you've ever smelled one). Even so, these less-than-sweet-smelling eggs are nothing compared with the island's most infamous dish: stinky tofu. It's said that westerners turn their noses up to it in the way people from the east react to blue cheese. But has anyone ever crossed the road to avoid a slab of Roquefort as I was forced to do at a Taipei night market a few days before? These acquired tastes aside, Taiwanese food is delicious, and one of its major draws. Alongside the indigenous specialities, you'll find a huge variety of regional Chinese cuisine and, in the capital at least, good Japanese, Thai and pan-Asian food. Advertisement Buzzing night markets, such as Taipei's Shilin, Huahsi or, if you can handle it, the carnivalesque Huaxi, aka Snake Alley, are a great place to start. They are also the places for picking up a nice pair of dungarees for your dog, or a Taiwanese massage. Today Fencihu, a small village in Alishan national park, draws tourists with its historic main street, winding alleys, wooden shops and backdrop of huge firs. I tried another local speciality here, one which workers in this once busy outpost for the logging industry, would pick up as they passed through on the railway – the traditional boxed lunch. These days the appeal of replicating the box (a mixture of meat and pickled veg) seems to lie in the novelty of the little, embossed tin-pot rather than the food itself. A more interesting Fencihu experience was wasabi coffee, a speciality at Old Master A-Kun's Noted Products Shop. The locally grown wasabi root, known for a piquancy that can be eye-watering, is surprisingly complementary in the highly sweetened coffee, giving it a notable, but not overwhelming, kick. The place is easy to find as the white-bearded owner, Lin Jing-kun, has plastered billboards of himself and his premises all around town. Another local delicacy was served by Uncle Love Jade (Bo Bo Ai Yu), who runs a small cafe just off Old Street, where he specialises in love jade, a refreshingly cold dessert made from jelly cubes infused with citrus, sold for 50p a bowl on his terrace, where guests sit on seats made from tree stumps, looking out over the tree-covered mountains.

On a street corner halfway down Yongkang Street in central Taipei, a trio of women fry up zhua bing, gorgeous shreddy circles of hot pastry studded with spring onion, and serve them fresh from the griddle. Opposite, teenagers perch on stools outside a snack bar slurping "mango avalanches" and "strawberry blizzards" – piles of juicy fruit over shaved ice that take the edge off the sultry tropical heat. It's hard to walk more than a few paces down Yongkang Street, or indeed many parts of Taipei, without succumbing to gastronomic temptation. Taiwan may be a small island, but its eating habits have been shaped by a fascinating history of settlement, colonisation and immigration. Once populated by indigenous tribes, it was settled by immigrants from Fujian in southeastern China from the 15th century, and later by Hakka people from the mainland. Portuguese sailors passed by in the 16th century, and the island was colonised in subsequent centuries by the Dutch, Spanish and Japanese. In 1949, at the end of the Chinese civil war, Chiang Kai-shek and his defeated Nationalist army, along with some 2 million mainlanders – including some of China's most accomplished chefs – fled to Taiwan. These days Taipei is a melting pot of regional Chinese cuisines, with a bias towards the refined cooking of Shanghai and eastern China. Most famously, the international Din Tai Fung chain, originally a family business, specialises in what westerners call "Shanghai soup dumplings" and locals "xiaolong", which it has raised to previously undreamed-of levels of perfection. Pick up one of the twirly dumplings, rupture its side with a chopstick and let the exquisite juices flow on to your spoon before you eat. Bamboo baskets with dumplings Bamboo baskets with dumplings Photograph: Corbis For more formal Shanghainese dining, Feng Chao-lin's Small Shanghai Restaurant has a cult following among local gourmets. Here, a banquet might include crucian carp braised with spring onion, belly pork slow-cooked with fermented beancurd or crisp stir-fried shrimps. And the tiny and unassuming Sanfen Suqi, a favourite of local food-writer Chu Chenfan, offers slices of juicy pork neck with a dip of soy sauce, garlic and chilli, a mesmerising version of a Sichuanese classic, as well as "dry-fried" fish, a delicious mix of golden crispness, tender flesh and peppery fragrance. For Taiwan's local culinary style, try the Ningxia night market where you can perch at a makeshift table and scoff a bowlful of rice covered in a lazy stew of spiced belly pork, a skewer of grilled mullet roe with garlic and radish, or an oyster omelette. Some restaurants bring market food indoors, like Du Hsiao Yeh in Yongkang Street, where you can eat a bowlful of "slack season" noodles topped with a rich pork sauce, mashed garlic and a prawn. It was the Shin Yeh chain that first brought Taiwanese folk cooking upmarket. Head chef Kun-Yin Cheng says: "We've tried to raise its status, using less oil and salt and serving it in a restaurant environment, but keeping the old flavours and the special local ingredients." Shin Yeh is now an international business, serving delicious renditions of classic Taiwan dishes without the rough edges of the nightmarkets. Try, for example, the marvellous soft wheaten pancakes stuffed with warm vegetables spiked with dried fish, coriander and a sweet peanut relish, or, if you're feeling adventurous, a stew of pig's kidneys and chicken testicles. In the South Gate market, traders preside over mouthwatering displays of Jinhua-style ham, dried bamboo shoots and mushrooms, all locally produced. The fresh fruit grown on Taiwan is a highlight of any visit. Market stalls are piled with wax apples, mangoes, pineapples and guavas, often served with a powder of preserved plums and salt. And there are growing numbers of organic cafés in Taipei, according to food writer Sarah Chen, who met me at one of them, Tanhou, for a breakfast "enzyme energy soup": glasses piled high with juicy chopped vegetables, dried fruits and seeds, which we ate with a spoon. There's a Japanese edge to the Taiwan food scene, a legacy of half a century of Japanese colonisation, which ended in 1945. The old city fish market has been transformed into Addiction Aquatic Development, a chic, warehouse-style Japanese restaurant and supermarket, with a "stand and swallow" bar for sushi-eaters and a grill division outside. If you fancy a teppanyaki blow-out, don't hesitate to drive out of town to the Shen Yen restaurant in Yilan county, where Chef Chen Chih-yung will dazzle you with his local seafood. Our lunch was an 18-course miracle of fish, eel and crustaceans, seasoned occasionally with his home-made soy sauce, and interspersed with sublime bamboo shoots, shots of iced hibiscus infusion and other treats. An afternoon tea set An afternoon tea set. Photograph: Getty Images/Flickr RF After a meal like this, it might be best to drop into the old Wisteria Tea House, the famed hangout of local subversives and intellectuals, where you can sit on wooden chairs or tatami mats and sip honeyed oolong teas as a glass kettle murmurs away on a burner beside you. Fuchsia visited Taiwan on a press trip sponsored by the Taiwan Government Information Office. Her book, Every Grain of Rice: Simple Chinese Home Cooking, is published by Bloomsbury. To order a copy for £20, with free UK p&p, click on the link above

New high-speed rail links are set to dramatically cut the travel times for family trips across Britain and Europe High speed train High-speed rail networks are set to transform the country into a much smaller place. Photograph: Rob MacDougall Brought to you by: About this contentAbout this content Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Share via Email Share on LinkedIn Share on Google+ Shares 98 Save for later British Railways has been through many incarnations, from the glory days of the first locomotives to periods of stagnation and neglect, to today’s often overcrowded system dominated by the 1.3 billion commuter journeys made each year. Yet our railways are now on the verge of a dramatic change that could see families flocking back to them. High-speed rail networks are set to transform the country into a much smaller place. A visit to the grandparents will no longer require a lengthy and exhausting car journey on congested motorways. HS2 and beyond Under the government’s vision for the controversial High-speed 2 rail network – which is due to be finished by 2033 – a trip from London to Manchester will take a little over an hour while travelling to Leeds would take under an hour and a half. It will mean parents will be able to make daytrips from London to the vast plastic world of Manchester’s Lego Discovery Centre, for example, while those living in the north of the country will have attractions like the Natural History Museum and the Tower of London within reach. But the £42.6 billion project, if completed, will also bring the rest of Europe much closer for millions of people. It will connect up to Britain’s first high-speed rail link that already runs from London’s St Pancras station to Paris and Brussels via the Channel Tunnel at speeds of up to 186mph . It is already possible to take the children from London direct to Disneyland Paris in just two hours and 40 minutes or Amsterdam’s Royal Zoo in around five hours. Next stop: the Med in under seven hours From May this year, it started its direct route from London to Marseille which takes six and a half hours – meaning the children can be paddling in the waters of the Mediterranean by tea time. Eurostar is also planning direct trains to Amsterdam from late 2016. Thanks to the growing network of TGV rail services, it is now even possible to reach Barcelona from London in around 10 hours. It means you could have breakfast in London, lunch in Paris and dinner in Catalonia. New high-speed lines are opening up areas that could see trains – with their lower security checks, greater leg room and greater freedom to move around – replacing air travel to many areas. Other lines being planned across Europe for inauguration sometime between 2020 and 2025 promise to bring Rome’s Colosseum and Forum, with its rich history of Gladiators and Roman soldiers, within a few hours. The planned 900 mile Paris to Bratislava high-speed railway, due to be completed in 2020, will open up even more possibilities for families such as a tour around Vienna’s Schönbrunn Palace – the grand playground of the former Austrian emperor Franz Joseph and his children – a swim in Budapest’s famous heated baths, or the chance to explore the underground caverns beneath Pest castle. Germany’s Bavarian Christmas markets could also soon become a few hours journey away as planned high-speed lines to Munich are expected to open up in the next ten to twenty years. Travel for travel’s sake But lets not forget the journey itself. Railway journeys have captivated children ever since they were created; it is no accident that JK Rowling chose to transport her boy wizard hero to Hogwarts by train in the Harry Potter novels. And whether in the imagination or on a real-life railway adventure, it seems that this form of transport will continue to captivate families for decades to come. For a quick getaway, take advantage of a single trip policy from Sainsbury’s Bank Travel Insurance, underwritten by Cigna Europe Insurance Company S.A-N.V. It has excellent all-round cover including travel disruption cover on our standard option. There is also the option to add winter sports or golf cover for an additional cost. If you’re planning a few more trips, choose our annual multi-trip insurance, which allows you to take as many holidays as you like, up to 60 days per year. Terms and conditions apply.

Passports: To enter Taiwan, a passport valid for at least six months is required by all nationals referred to in the chart above. Visas: Visas for Taiwan are not required by nationals referred to in the chart above (provided they have no criminal record, have a confirmed return air ticket or documentation for onward travel) for stays of up to 90 days. Australian nationals were previously only able to stay for 30 days without a visa. As of 1 January 2015, they may stay for 90 days. This decision will be reviewed after one year. FREE Pocket Guide (download & print) Visa note: Although the vast majority of visitors to Taiwan do not require visas, anyone travelling on to China is advised to have arranged their Chinese visa before arriving in Taiwan, where the process is notoriously long-winded. Types and cost: Single-entry visa: £32; multiple-entry visa: £64. Special handling fees also apply to nationalities of countries which charge a handling fee to Taiwanese visa applicants (eg US nationals must pay a £132 fee). Multiple-entry visas are issued for business purposes only and require a document from your employer regarding the purpose of visit. Validity: Single-entry visa: usually valid for three months to one year for stays of 14, 30, 60 or 90 days; multiple-entry (business purposes only): six months from the date of issue.

Sitting pretty as one of Asia’s best-kept travel secrets, the spicy, scenic island of Taiwan makes a habit of smashing visitor preconceptions. Outsiders tend to see this country as notable only for its technological prowess – an image reinforced by the global prominence of ‘Made in Taiwan’ stickers – but in reality this is a destination that serves up awe-inspiring panoramas, a rainbow of different cultures and a startlingly rich history. Alongside night markets, cycle trails and hot springs, there are gleaming skyscrapers, hulking mountains and sparkling lakes. When you factor in the manageable size of the island, which is less than half the size of Scotland, the appeal becomes even more significant. Taiwan is one of the few places on Earth where ancient religious and cultural practices still thrive in an overwhelmingly modernist landscape. This juxtaposition is expressed most clearly in Taipei, where futuristic marvels like Taipei 101 – one of the tallest buildings in the world – share the city with incense-fogged temples and indigenous communities. This mix of different influences is wonderfully showcased by the island’s cuisine – a lip-smacking blend of Chinese, Japanese and aboriginal fare. Like many aspects of life in Taiwan, its diverse cuisine makes sense when you look at the island’s history. Following five decades of Japanese rule, in 1949 a liberated Taiwan became a refuge for the Chinese Nationalist Party and their supporters, who fled here during the Chinese Civil War. To this day, Taiwan remains a product of this period – a maverick sovereign state still viewed with uneasiness by Beijing. History buff or not, there’s much to enjoy in Taiwan. Away from the sleek towers of the cities, it’s the valleys, lakes and gorges of the countryside that tend to leave the greatest impression. The fact that comparatively few tourists make it here is more to do with a lack of awareness than a lack of things to do – hikers, cyclists, divers, surfers, pilgrims and gourmands will all find a little slice of heaven in this corner of Asia. Travel Advice

The labyrinthine catacombs of the Hermitage Museum are home to an army of felines, whose story is as colourful as the exhibits they guard. Gavin Haines reports. A bit of trivia for you: if you were to spend a minute looking at every exhibit in the Hermitage Museum, you’d be there for 11 years. Or so they say. Considered by many to be the finest museum on the planet, the problem with this place is that no matter how many times you explore its endless corridors and yawning galleries, you always leave feeling like you’ve just scratched the surface. Time always defeats you. You miss more than you see. But there is one collection in particular that most visitors never see: the family of felines living beneath the museum. Stalking the Hermitage’s labyrinthine catacombs, these moggies have an important job: to purge the museum of vermin. "These moggies have an important job." How good they are at this depends on who you talk to. One Hermitage security guard is said to posses a photo of a cat watching a rat drink from its water bowl. Not what you’d call a fearsome predator. Lazy though they may be, cats have been at the Hermitage longer than most of the exhibits. For that we have Elizabeth of Russia, daughter of Peter the Great, to thank: frustrated with vermin gnawing at the furniture in her newly built Winter Palace, in 1745 she issued a decree for “the biggest and best rat chasers” to be sent to St Petersburg. “It was necessary – there were rats everywhere,” says Maria Khaltunen, who, incredibly, is the cats’ personal press secretary. The Hermitage cats have even had professional portraits done The Hermitage cats have even had professional portraits done The Hermitage Museum The dutiful felines kept working throughout the Napoleonic Wars and the Russian Revolution of 1917. They even stayed on when the Winter Palace ceased to be the home of the tsars. Sadly, though, none of them survived the brutal Siege of Leningrad (1941-44). “Most animals died – some were eaten,” says Maria, referring not just to the museum’s cats, but all animals living in St Petersburg, known then as Leningrad. Things were so bad, adds Maria, that there "were even recipes for cooking rats." Only six cats survived the siege in the whole city – all other animals perished, along with more than one million inhabitants. But amidst the bleakness were rays of light: with the city reduced to rubble and its citizens despondent, one of those cats offered hope. “The cat had a kitten and it was seen as a sign that everything was going to be alright – it was a symbol that the war would be finished,” Maria tells me. The siege ended shortly after. Six felines weren’t enough to keep the vermin at bay though, and by the time the siege was lifted the city was once again infested with rats. But not for long. "Most animals died – some were eaten." “People sent their cats to Leningrad from across Russia to protect the city,” explains Maria, who looks after the felines with several full-time volunteers. “We have a special cat house in the basement. They have their own cat beds and a washing machine.” A washing machine? “Yes, to put their blankets in.” Right, of course. Truth be told, the Hermitage cats became redundant long ago: poison keeps the vermin population under control nowadays. In fact, rather than dedicated rat killers, the current cats are waifs and strays, looked after by the museum until homes can be found for them. So how many of them roam these catacombs? “Our director permits us only to have 50 cats,” says Maria, coyly. “So officially we have 50 cats.” Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. The Hermitage catacombs are off-limits to the public, save for one day a year, the Saturday after Easter, when cat lovers are allowed to meet the famous felines. As if there wasn’t enough to see already: well, I suppose Byzantine art can wait. Fearsome predators there are not Fearsome predators these are not The Hermitage Museum Adopt a Hermitage cat Adopt a slice of Russian history by rehoming a Hermitage cat – some souvenir. More details are available at www.hermitagecats.ru, but it’s Russian only so try calling them (+7 911 791 2419). Alternatively, head to Cat Republic (en.catsrepublic.ru), a feline-themed café, library and adoption centre in St Petersburg, run by Anna Kondratyeva, the Hermitage cats' head veterinarian. There are six Hermitage felines residing at the café, which organises monthly events where you can get acquainted with cats in need of a family.

From Shakespeare's Stratford to Borges' Buenos Aires, we explore the destinations that inspired our greatest poets and examine the marks they left behind. 1) Shakespeare, Stratford-upon-Avon Perhaps the biggest literary pilgrimage of all, Stratford-upon-Avon has become intertwined with England’s National Poet who was born, grew up, and eventually died in the picturesque town. Sadly, few historical relics remain that showcase Shakespeare’s life in Stratford, and there is little to see aside from museums that swarm with visitors and costumed guides. Instead, it is perhaps best to simply observe the city as Shakespeare would have seen it. Drink in the Garrick Pub (dating back to 1400) and stroll across the ancient Clopton Bridge. Visitors should also catch a play at the (not so historical) Royal Shakespeare Theatre. What to read: The Complete Sonnets and Poems: The Oxford Shakespeare by William Shakespeare. Don’t miss: The funerary monument at the Holy Trinity Church includes a demi-figure of the poet that’s one of only two lifelike depictions of the Bard accepted as an accurate physical portrayal. The church is also the site of Shakespeare’s grave, where an epitaph places a curse on any visitor who “moves my bones”. Shakespeare's restored first home is now a dedicated museum Shakespeare's restored first home is now a dedicated museum Creative Commons / Kommercialize 2) Jorge Luis Borges, Buenos Aires “Nothing is built on stone; all is built on sand,” wrote Jorge Luis Borges in In Praise of Darkness. He would’ve witnessed his prophecy in Buenos Aires if he were still alive. The city is changing: his favourite coffee stops are either shut or are celebrating his life with crude waxworks, like classic Viennese coffeehouse Cafe Tortoni. A plaque marks his family home at Serrano 2135, and adjoining another of his former houses is the Jorge Luis Borges International Foundation (visits by appointment only), which holds many of his first editions. Borges, though, was a wanderer, and the grandiose avenues of the Argentinian capital beg visitors to do just that. What to read: Buenos Aires by Jorge Luis Borges. Don’t miss: Borges’ favourite bookshop, La Ciudad, can still be found inside the Galería del Este. Buenos Aires has changed significantly since Borges' day Buenos Aires has changed significantly since Borges' day Kseniya Ragozina / Thinkstock 3) William Butler Yeats, Ireland Rather than shroud his most treasured County Sligo spots in lyrical mystery, the great Irish wordsmith, William Butler Yeats, celebrated them in his poetry. Among the damp green hills, stacked cairns and silent holloways of Sligo, visitors can still see the Lough Gill mist lift from the small atoll that inspired The Lake Isle of Innisfree. It’s here, in the area Keats called ‘The Land of Heart’s Desire’, that you’ll find Coole Park, which Yeats mentions in The Wild Swans at Coole and In the Seven Woods. But it’s Ben Bulben, a vast rocky brow of ancient Ireland, that overpowers most. Stand beneath its glare and read Under Ben Bulben. What to read: The Collected Works, Vol. 1: The Poems by W. B. Yeats. Don’t miss: Ardent fans shouldn’t leave without visiting Thoor Ballylee, the Norman tower Keats turned into a study and a summer home, which reopened in June 2015. The pear tree “broken by the storm” in The Road at My Door still stands in the garden. Yeats wrote about his favourite Sligo spots like Ben Bulben Yeats wrote about his favourite Sligo spots like Ben Bulben Marie33 / Thinkstock 4) Robert Burns, Ayrshire From Rabbie Burn’s local howff (boozer), right down to his wooden writing desk, you can’t go far in Ayrshire without being reminded of the Scottish bard. The Robert Burns Birthplace Museum includes entry to the quaint thatched cottage where he was born in 1759 and is the best place to trigger intrigue. For a more lyrical lilt, head to Kirkoswald and visit the cobbler's shop epitomised in Tam o' Shanter, which has several sandstone statues including Tam o' Shanter, Souter Johnnie and the poet’s innkeeper. Then move onto Ellisland Farm, near Dumfries, for some of Burns’ original work. Finish in the charming town itself where there are statues of the poet, plus his favourite pub, The Globe Inn. What to read: The epic Tam o' Shanter by Robert Burns. Don’t miss: For real Rabbie buffs, Burns’ favourite chair still props up the bar at The Globe Inn. However, before you hunker doon, make sure you can recite some of his poetry – else you’ll be buying the rest of the pub a beer. Burns' original cottage home is the star attraction in Ayrshire Burns' original cottage home is the star attraction in Ayrshire Derek McDougal / Thinkstock 5) Charles Baudelaire, Paris From Balzac to Wilde, via Hemingway, Proust and Rimbaud, Paris has long enticed the world’s greatest writers – and spat many of them out too. But it was Charles Baudelaire who bared the city’s sinful secrets through Les Fleurs du Mal and Le Spleen de Paris. That’s why the best starting point for understanding Baudelaire’s Paris is Hotel Lauzun, the rundown hovel where he smoked, shagged and shared a destructive relationship with his mistress and muse, Jeanne Duval. The liaison spawned Le Balcon and Parfum Exotique. There is a bust of Baudelaire in Luxembourg Gardens and a cenotaph of the poet in Montparnasse Cemetery. Baudelaire’s body, however, is in the family tomb nearby, much against his will. What to read: Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire. Don’t miss: In testament to Baudelaire’s bohemian lifestyle, walk to 57 rue de Seine, where the poet once lived. So burdened with debt during his time here, he only emerged at night. Charles Baudelaire wrote about the city’s sinful secrets Charles Baudelaire wrote about Paris’ sinful secrets Jenifoto / Thinkstock 6) Dylan Thomas, Swansea Though Thomas’ relationship with his birthplace, the “ugly, lovely town” of Swansea, may be hard to define, the city has posthumously embraced its most famous export with open arms. Fans of the drunken, doomed poet can trawl through the world’s largest collection of memorabilia of its kind at the Dylan Thomas Centre and even spend the night in the poet’s first home. More authentic literary homage can be sought through walks in Cwmdonkin Park, a source of inspiration for Thomas’ earliest works, and the ambling beachside trail to Mumbles, where you can quaff a coffee at the Kardomah Coffee Shop, frequented by Thomas and his so-called "Kardomah Gang". What to read: Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog by Dylan Thomas. Don’t miss: A creative hub still nurturing local talent and showcasing a selection of plays, The Dylan Thomas Theatre (formerly the Swansea Little Theatre) is where the young Thomas cut his teeth as an actor. The nearby Antelope Pub (re-opening this year) was a favourite haunt of the poet: his fondness for which led to his eventual dismissal from the theatre. The Dylan Thomas Theatre puts on a range of performances The Dylan Thomas Theatre puts on a range of performances Creative Commons / Les Haines 7) Robert Graves, Mallorca After a tumultuous adult life that began in the trenches, prolific English poet Robert Graves said goodbye to all that and sought solace on the beautiful Balearic Island of Mallorca. The village of Deià became Graves’ long-time family home, on and off, between 1929 and his death in 1985. Provided with the peace he so desperately craved, it was here that he wrote some of his most influential works, including the novel I, Claudius. His old home, surrounded by olive buses and orange trees, is now a museum dedicated to his life. What to read: I Wonder What It Feels Like to be Drowned? by Robert Graves. Don’t miss: Graves’ modest headstone, guarded by a cypress tree, is visible in the churchyard a short distance from his home in Deià. Robert Graves moved to Deia, Mallorca in 1929 Robert Graves moved to Deià, Mallorca in 1929 Wolfgang Eichentopf / Thinkstock 8) William Wordsworth, Cumbria Wandering lonely as a cloud, William Wordsworth found inspiration through much of the Lake District, and the "host of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees” still dance in spring breeze on the shores of Lake Ullswater. Bookend your pilgrimage with a visit to his fantastic Georgian birthplace in Cockermouth and a trip to St Oswald’s Church in Grasmere, where a simple gravestone marks his final resting place. Spend the rest of your time rambling through Glencoyne Park and to the stone circle in Little Salkeld, which inspired The Monument Commonly Called Long Meg. What to read: I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud by William Wordsworth. Don’t miss: In Grasmere, Cumbria sits Dove Cottage, where Wordsworth lived and worked from 1799 to 1808. Originally a pub, Wordsworth stumbled across the cottage when walking with fellow wordsmith, Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The beautiful Lake District has long been a source of inspiration The beautiful Lake District has long been a source of inspiration Creative Commons / Noel Bennett 9) Walt Whitman, New York Ugly, rotten, scabbard, yet vivacious, bustling and eclectic – even in the 21st century you don’t need a scholarly local tour guide to uncover the New York setting that frequently dominates Walt Whitman’s poetry. Little of the poet’s hangouts remain; even Pfaff’s, an infamous basement café favoured by the bohemian crowd, has become a series of shops. Similarly, the fireman’s hall, where Whitman drank with celebrated poet Ralph Waldo Emerson, has lost much of its ornamentation, though its facade remains. Whitman revelled most in simply walking among the bundling masses – something that is hard to escape in the city today. What to read: Give me the Splendid, Silent Sun by Walt Whitman. Don’t miss: Away from the bustling city streets, Jayne’s Hill in the West Hills County Park was an oasis of calm for Whitman. The celebrated poet frequently walked the trail, which climbs to the highest point of Long Island. He also wrote of it often. Whitman loved wandering the bustling streets of New York Whitman loved wandering the bustling streets of New York Creative Commons / Jakob Montrasio 10) Thomas Hardy, Dorset While the common setting of Thomas Hardy’s works, Wessex (a forest strewn green space with a rasping coastline and thatch cottage villages), may appear too quaint to be true, it’s actually a thinly veiled Anglo-Saxon pseudonym for Dorset and its picturesque surrounds. Following the Thomas Hardy Trail, visitors can literally walk in Hardy’s footsteps along tracks that explore the churches, homes, manors and villages visited by the poet throughout his lifetime. Many of these locations seem stuck in a time warp and offer first-hand experience of the places that inspired some of his most popular poetry. What to read: The Children and Sir Nameless by Thomas Hardy. Don’t miss: Head to Higher Bockhampton in Dorset to tour Hardy’s Cottage, the seemingly untouched birthplace and childhood home of this acclaimed poet. Some of his earliest works, including Under the Greenwood Tree, were written here. Crumbling Dorset appears unchanged since Hardy's time Crumbling Dorset appears unchanged since Hardy's time Martin Kemp / Thinkstock

Whether you’re a foodie or just looking to try new things, food markets are a great way to immerse yourself in the local culture and cuisine. From purveyors of mouth-watering tarts to silken homemade pasta, we round up the top five food markets from around the world. Borough Market, London Take a stroll along the dynamic south embankment of River Thames near London Bridge to let your hunger build before heading south to the open-air Borough Market, as you’ll certainly be in need of a healthy appetite. Located in a food-focused corner of Southwark, Borough Market effectively captures the city’s burgeoning love of food and offers an array of traditional British and international foods to sample. From Thursdays to Saturdays, sip on freshly pressed cider, crunch on spicy smoked almonds or give in to your sweet tooth and try moist and moreish brownies. With a friendly and warm atmosphere, you’ll feel right at home as sellers proudly encourage you to taste their products and invite you to learn about the history of their stand and the processes involved in delivering their produce from the field to the table. Tip: If you wish to avoid the large crowds, visit on Thursday or Friday – but avoid lunchtime (12-2pm) as the market will be swelled by office workers in search of a quick bite to eat. Opening times: Thurs 11am-5pm, Fri noon-6pm, Sat 8am-5pm. Chatuchak Market Browse the 5,000 stalls at Chatuchak Market Creative Commons / Daniel Shen Chatuchak Market, Bangkok It’s no wonder the world’s largest weekend market is a labyrinth of great confusion, with narrow alleyways between food stalls and stands overflowing with every knick-knack imaginable. Near Bang Sue railway station in north-central Bangkok, this bustling precinct is a foodie’s idea of heaven, with thousands of stalls selling some of the best dishes Thai cuisine has to offer. Hear the raucous haggling of thousands of locals and smell the mixed aromas of spices and meats wafting down the street long before entering the enormous 30-acre (12-hectare) market. Favourite dishes here include juicy fresh fruit, chewy roasted pork and pad thai (stir-fried noodle dish); but if you’re feeling a little more adventurous, why not try the seafood doughnut holes – crispy, golden batter mixed with seafood and topped with a dollop of spicy sauce. Tip: Be sure to arrive early to avoid a mass of people and pack sunscreen to protect you from the searing afternoon sun, as you’ll need all day to seek out your favourite Thai dish. Opening times: Sat-Sun 6am-6pm. Kreta Ayer Wet Market Kreta Ayer offers an array of exotic fruits, including the durian Creative Commons / variationblogr Kreta Ayer Wet Market, Singapore Cautiously following Singapore’s strict hygiene standards, Kreta Ayer Wet Market is a great place to try street food in the knowledge that it should not cause any lingering regrets. At this market in the city’s famous Chinatown area, you’ll find a mixture of exotic and imported foods to feast your eyes upon. Favourites include frogs, traditional Chinese herbal remedies and locally sourced fruit and vegetables from every colour of the rainbow. Continue your visit with a walk upstairs, where you can tuck into sweet delicacies in the café and interact with the intriguing locals who are only too willing to tell you about their recipes and daily life in and around the market. Tip: Many sites in Chinatown, such as the temples and shophouses of the Telok Ayer district, have been declared as national heritage sites, so take time to explore the area. Opening times: Mon-Sun 6am-1pm. La Vurria Market Try a sweet Sicilian blood orange at La Vucciria market Creative Commons / Steve Silverman / Cranrob La Vucciria, Palermo During the early hours in the earthy city of Palermo, a crowd of people break out from their homes to set up their stands at La Vucciria Market. The smell of fish and herbs slowly spills into the air and the streets begin to fill with locals and tourists looking to purchase weekly groceries. A keen purveyor of Sicilian cuisine, you’ll be able to try a selection of silken homemade pastas, juicy fruit, locally caught fish and delicious wine at this lively market. Come nightfall, the buzz of the market does not fade; simple dishes are served alongside cold beer and the fun-loving locals contribute to the enticing atmosphere. Tip: Visit the fruit stands to taste the sweet Sicilian blood oranges. Head there early for the best displays. Opening times: Mon-Sat dawn-2pm. Some parts are open during the evening. St Lawrence Market Munch on some local delicacies at St Lawrence Market Creative Commons / A.M. Kuchling St Lawrence, Toronto Expect a delightful attack on the senses when visiting the 208-year-old market of St Lawrence in Downtown Toronto, as the smell of freshly cooked food entices you in to the market buildings - South Market, North Market and St Lawrence Hall. Munch on the varied culinary offerings, from strong cheeses, homemade jams to high-quality chocolate. Purchase foods at a fair price from the 100-or–so informative and helpful vendors, and learn about the local produce. You'll soon find yourself getting caught up in the local traditions and tasting foods you never thought you would. Tip: Those with a sweet tooth should focus their visit in the South Market, where exquisite Portuguese tarts and mouth-watering rhubarb crumble can be found.