I look down at the white-tipped waves below me, surging towards the silent, curve of beach where I had stood just three days before.
Italians from Milan and points north have been quietly discovering Sicily's Ragusa region for the last several years, drawn to towns like Modica and Scicli for their Unesco-protected Baroque architecture, silent stretches of beach and culinary legacy.
The organization throws parties wherein its attendees make a pact of sobriety at the onset: from bike and hike raves, to silent discos and morning beach parties.
But there are two areas that have everything, from surfer bars to top-end retreats, party beaches to silent jungle.
The merging of river estuaries, protected from the relentless Atlantic swell by the vast granite bulk of the Lizard peninsula, has created a magical landscape: silent wooded creeks, secluded beaches and rolling hills that drop gently into the sea.
It is perfectly situated between Dubrovnik and the deserted, densely forested island of Lokrum with its craggy, whisper-silent, private inlets (beaches 4 and 5).
Third Sgt. Pedro Baptes, 28, surveying the empty beach and the silent inlet, thought he knew what was in store.
The day begins with an (optional) silent sunrise walk along the beach, followed by two hours of yoga on a deck in the gardens facing the sea.
Flower-studded ruins and sea-battered walls fringed a small tide-marked beach, where fat, silent seagulls picked their way through waterlogged refuse.
