Along the coast through Liguria to the French border, our slow travel expert enjoys the mix of tunnels and dramatic coastal views

Nature has its way of derailing travel plans. A landslide in August 2023 in the French Alps blocked the main railway just west of the Mont Cenis tunnel. This route is used by all trains from Italy to Lyon and Paris. The sleek French TGVs and the even sleeker Italian Frecciarossa trains competing on the lucrative link from Milan to the French capital were stopped in their tracks. Many passengers bound for Paris and London from Italy rerouted through Switzerland, while others devised creative itineraries via the Riviera, using the historic railway running west from Genoa which, in 1872, became one of the first two routes crossing the frontier from Italy into France. The Mont Cenis route still hasn’t reopened so, needing to travel from Trieste to France, I opt for a dose of Ligurian sunshine and take the train via Genoa, following the coast west from there into France.

This is a stretch of coast my partner and I know well. From the autostrade or the railway, the landscape seems quite tame. Up close, we see just how challenging the terrain can be. Stray off a footpath into the macchia, and you quickly encounter a tangle of thorny shrub and fierce ravines. There are rock roses, tree heathers, myrtle and broom drenched in yellow flowers and the salty tang of the sea. Move inland from the coast, and there are the scents of Liguria: lavender, sage and wild garlic which, along with pesto, focaccia and green window shutters, make the Riviera di Ponente (the coast west of Genoa) so captivating.

E-bikes transform a four-day cycling tour of the South Tyrol from an endurance test to an enjoyable jaunt with enough puff left over for bonding chats amid the spectacular scenery

Bikini to swimsuit. Factor 15 to 50. Paperback to Kindle. The answers to my holiday prep questions have changed over time, but this year there was one extra decision: pedal bike or electric?

I was off on a four-day cycling tour in the South Tyrol with my 16-year-old daughter. Her idea of a holiday errs more towards Instagrammable moments involving beach sunsets and flower-shaped ice-creams. Pedalling up hills in 30C was a much harder sell.

The bestselling historical fiction writer, whose new book, Nero, is out today, urges visitors to the Eternal City to make time for the quieter pleasures on offer around its seven hills

I have loved Rome all my life. I went first when I was 10, to stay in a convent. The highlight then was slipping into a cage with two guard dogs, convinced I had a gift for soothing savage beasts. Reader, I survived.

The most recent was in April this year, which involved being pickpocketed at the Circo Massimo metro station. Honestly, it was a privilege to encounter such professionals. Fagin would have called them “good boys” – all right, good girls, if you want the truth. A large, blousy lady blocked the door to the train as I got on, demanding to know something. Two of her companions pushed on alongside, then visibly realised their “mistake”. All three raced to get off before the doors shut. I was jostled in the middle and never even felt the dip. Another passenger told me what had happened as our train pulled away. No violence, ladies and gentlemen. More like street theatre – though the ticket price was a little high.