ALPHONSE, a tiny atoll in the Indian Ocean, has a mystical place in the pantheon of fly-fishing. It is our Xanadu. It is on one of the remotest inhabited islands in the Seychelles: you typically have to fly into Mahé, the largest island, and spend a night there (I stayed at the Eden Bleu), before continuing on your journey the next day.
Alphonse is surrounded by the most astonishing flats that brim with fish. It is like walking through an aquarium. It is also one of the most glorious islands to visit, even if you have not the slightest intention of ever casting a line across the sparkling azure waters. I know because I was accompanied by my wife, Rachel.
It is always summer here, only 7Ë south of the equator. The beaches are pristine and the island is full of ancient woodland
This, perhaps, hadn’t always been the case. As the fishermen fished, the wives and nonangling partners of the past had little to do apart from discussing the merits or otherwise of their other halves as they waited for their return. There is no waiting now.
Instead, there is a spa, trips to nearby uninhabited islands to see the red-footed boobies and frigatebirds soaring through the sky, canoeing, scuba diving or snorkelling on a sparkling reef just off the shore, tortoise feeding, whale and manta ray watching, Nature walks or even, dare I say, relaxing. It is always summer here, being only 7° south of the equator. The beaches are pristine and the island is full of ancient woodland and coconut glades.
ãã®èšäºã¯ Country Life UK ã® March 01, 2023 çã«æ²èŒãããŠããŸãã
7 æ¥éã® Magzter GOLD ç¡æãã©ã€ã¢ã«ãéå§ããŠãäœåãã®å³éžããããã¬ãã¢ã ã¹ããŒãªãŒã9,000 以äžã®éèªãæ°èã«ã¢ã¯ã»ã¹ããŠãã ããã
ãã§ã«è³Œèªè ã§ã ?  ãµã€ã³ã€ã³
ãã®èšäºã¯ Country Life UK ã® March 01, 2023 çã«æ²èŒãããŠããŸãã
7 æ¥éã® Magzter GOLD ç¡æãã©ã€ã¢ã«ãéå§ããŠãäœåãã®å³éžããããã¬ãã¢ã ã¹ããŒãªãŒã9,000 以äžã®éèªãæ°èã«ã¢ã¯ã»ã¹ããŠãã ããã
ãã§ã«è³Œèªè ã§ã? ãµã€ã³ã€ã³
Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766â68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artistâs first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.