Get Lost

Maison Souquet

Step into the Belle Époque in one of Paris’s most lavish new hotels, Maison Souquet. Hidden in the saucy Pigalle district, the abode pays homage to the courtesans who once sashayed through its halls. From the exterior, the only hints of opulence are two red lanterns and a canopy flanking a simple facade, but enter the former house of pleasure and you’ll plunge into a world of intricate panelling, plush furniture and gold, gold, gold.

The 20 rooms offer unique designs created by French artist Jacques Garcia, whose credits include the tearooms of Ladurées, the refurbishment of Château de Versailles and the styling of more than 30 rooms of the Louvre with 18th-century decorative art. This is how one should slumber in the city of love.

Rub-A-Dub at Hot Tub Cinema

Most of us go to the movies to relax, but just imagine blending that experience with a dip in a hot tub. A party with a single rub-a-dub tub got its organisers thinking about the possibilities of taking the concept to the people, and in July 2012 the first public Hot Tub Cinema was held in London.

These days you have to book well in advance for the summer screenings, which feature classic flicks (Ghostbusters, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Austin Powers etc.), dressing up and waiters who deliver cold beverages to your hot tub. There’s no permanent home, so the moist movie theatre pops up wherever a spot can be found. The concept has spread to Bristol, Birmingham and Manchester in the UK, as well as abroad to Ibiza and New York City. What could be better than watching Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels here?

Open-air Cinema in an Ancient Amphitheatre

Located just outside the city walls of Pula, Vespasian’s Amphitheatre – fondly known as ‘the Arena’ – has been drawing people into its crumbling walls for millennia. Built during the first century AD, the great Roman-style landmark was once the bloody battleground of gladiators and knights. Now the Arena is one of the largest open-air cinemas in the world, home to some of Pula’s best summer entertainment.

Hosting up to 5,000 spectators, the annual Pula Film Festival takes place during July, showcasing a program of Croatian cinema and a smattering of films from around the globe. In its 63rd year, the festival is an event not to be missed, so grab a seat and settle in for a cinema experience under the stars.

Looking for a Revolution

A gentle offshore breeze ripples the face of the Atlantic breakers. Fresh off the still snowy mountains it carries with it a wintery hint of the txirimiri. This is the poetic – almost endearing – name by which the people of San Sebastián know their drizzle. For whole seasons the txirimiri seems to be the default weather system here. Pulling on my wetsuit, I begin to question the wisdom of my decision to come to San Sebastián so early in the Spanish summer on the trail of what is said to be a surfing revolution.

Carrying my board across the rain-pocked sand of La Zurriola beach I count about 30 surfers lined up along the clean, eight-foot faces. The Basques are a hardy race, tempered by a land of mist-shrouded mountains and rugged coastlines. Apparently it takes more than the nip of the txirimiri to keep the local surfers from their waves.

Tucked into the corner where Spain and France meet, San Sebastián seems to benefit as the focus point for any swell that is generated by the spiralling currents of the Bay of Biscay. To the east lies French Basque Country and to the west a rugged coastline of wave-smashed cliffs and wild, windswept beaches stretches unbroken to Fisterra – literally the End of the Land – in far off Galicia. San Sebastián’s Gipuzkoa province is particularly famed for spots like the legendary surf beach at Zarautz (10 minutes from the city) and the infamous Playa Gris, which seems almost to have acted as a magnet for some of the biggest waves in the history of surfing.

La Zurriola is rated as one of the world’s best urban surf venues.
Click to view gallery

The city itself has two beaches with two very different characters. The immense sweeping arc of soft sand that is La Concha is a tranquil natural harbour and the ideal town beach. The great curving promenade here is fringed with Art Deco hotels and palaces, built way back when this was the prime summer getaway for Spanish royalty who came to take in the waters and breathe the cool air of green Spain. La Concha has been called the pearl of the Cantabrian Sea, but its Spanish name simply means ‘the shell’.

Beyond the plazas, palaces and tangled alleyways of the old town, across the river in Gros quarter, you find wild La Zurriola – a beach with an altogether different mood. The humble little quarter of Gros has now launched a bid to claim the title of European Capital of Surf. This seems unlikely, until you remember Gros is just an hour from legendary Mundaka, the river-mouth wave that is rated as one of the 10 best waves on the planet.

Riding on the swell of La Zurriola, San Sebastián is leading a World Surf Cities Network, a group of nine destinations striving to have more of an impact on one of the world’s fastest growing sports. Durban in South Africa and France’s Hossegor are already fixtures on any travelling surfer’s wishlist, along with Australia’s Gold Coast and Newcastle. The others – Ericeira (Portugal), Las Palmas de Gran Canaria (Spain), Arica (Chile) and Santos (Brazil) – are less well known, but are respected for truly world-class surf.

After a winter spent surfing balmier waves in Brazil, the chill seeping through my wetsuit is somewhat numbing. But there is more than one side to the surf revolution taking place on the Spanish north coast at the moment and I’m anxious to check it out. The board I’m now paddling out into the lineout is already getting some appraising looks – along with a few doubtfully raised eyebrows. It’s what is known as a parabolic shape: its curves go inwards where those on conventional boards go out. It’s a surfboard with a waist and hips. Engineers at Pamplona-based Trinity Board Sport perfected the design using aerodynamics software normally reserved for the production of wind turbines.

My first slide down the face and swooping bottom turn convinces me the hype about these boards is not overstated. It’s shorter than any board I would normally ride, but is very stable and extremely fast. So fast, in fact, that I arrive back at the top of the wave far quicker than expected. As I go flying up over the lip and the board goes spinning up into the spattering txirimiri, I have a moment to reflect that this isn’t the most impressive start to the session. By the time another set comes through, however, I’m prepared for the phenomenal acceleration. If it’s true that these are indeed the surfboards of the future then all I can say is ¡Viva la Revolución!

The old Basque village of Zarautz, with its immense arc of sand, is now one of Europe’s most vibrant surf destinations. Image: Javi Muñoz
Click to view gallery

A few hours later I’m in a backstreet taberna, lifting a glass of Basque cider and drinking a toast to surfboards with hips and San Sebastián’s place as the capital of European surfing.

There can be nowhere in the world that is better for curing après-surf munchies than San Seb. There are more Michelin stars here per square metre than anywhere else in the world, but it is the celebrated pintxos that are the most alluring option when you have just returned, muscles buzzing, from the surf.

Pintxos are the local version of tapas. In San Sebastián these normally simple snacks have been refined to the point where, in even the humblest bars, they are haute cuisine. I head for the first bar I see and, as I step in onto the sawdust floor, find myself faced with an entire feast. More than 20 plates are lined up along the bar. Each is heaped with perfectly prepared snack-size morsels. The place is still empty but the old bartender is busy laying out more delicacies. I ask him if they normally offer such incredible variety.

“Sometimes more, never less,” he answers with a shrug. “It takes most of the afternoon for the chef to prepare everything, but here a bar isn’t worthy of the name if it doesn’t offer good pintxos.”

He offers me a plate and starts to talk me through the list: “Mountain ham with goat cheese on oiled bread, prawns in garlic mayonnaise, baby octopus with chillies…” It goes on.

Some of the offerings are from the mountains and fertile valleys of the surrounding region. There’s cured ham, black pudding, spicy del Padrón peppers and asparagus that the king himself once famously described as cojonudo (balls-out spectacular).

Mostly, however, the bar’s specialities reflect San Sebastián’s fishing background: tuna, salted bacalao cod, delicious grilled sardines, tangy pickled anchovies and the little percebes that are delicious until somebody points out that these giant barnacles are almost entirely just huge (relatively speaking) penises.

Ready to hit the surf.
Click to view gallery

It’s no coincidence that some of the best pintxo places are in the network of cobblestone alleyways between the market and the port. The towering statue of the Madonna on her hilltop perch looms over the grand old Santa Maria church and the pretty little fishing port. The Basques are not generally religious people and many of the fishermen here believe that a freshly painted livery of the green, red and white of the Basque flag offers all the protection their boats will ever need against the terrible Bay of Biscay storms.

The little port is a particularly evocative place to wander if you want to grasp the character of old San Sebastián. A few tourists mosey to and from the naval museum or the wonderful aquarium, with its walk-through shark tunnel, and at weekends the cluster of little seafood restaurants rumbles with Basque banter. The Euskera language is spoken more in San Sebastián and the surrounding Gipuzkoa area than anywhere else in the Eu (Basque) region. The streets of Donostia, as the city is called locally, are signposted with strange-looking words that are liberally spiked with Zs, Xs and Ks.

Despite its dual languages San Sebastián is one of the easiest Spanish cities to come to terms with. Where the cities of Spain’s far south are sultry and temperamental and the ancient fortress-towns of the central plateau are conservatively aloof, San Sebastián strikes you at first sight as chic and sexy. Outwardly it seems to encapsulate the stylish side of the Spanish character, but there’s an easygoing backstreet ambience that lures you onward into long, lazy rambles through the old-town alleys. Whatever your temperament, there can be few cities in all of Europe where it is so easy to feel at home.

By the time I’ve sated my hunger and finished my bottle of cider the streetlights are starting to come on. Despite the drizzle all is well with the world. I pull my collar up and wander the cobbled streets to the wave-break wall – a battlement to hold back the interminable onslaught of the Biscay breakers – to check out La Zurriola again.

The rain seems to be coming down heavier and a few dark storm clouds are now blotting out the setting sun. I watch several teenaged schoolboy surfers sprinting down the beach to catch a last few waves before a damp darkness falls on surf city. With this level of dedication it will take more than the txirimiri to keep San Sebastián from taking her place as the queen of European surfing.

Finnish Freeze Therapy

Give the sauna the cold shoulder and air your lumps and bumps at a cool –120ºC. Haikko Manor’s Super Cold Treatment claims to leech away sleep disorders, stress and unsightly skin conditions, and locals have employed the technique to treat pain and rheumatic diseases for centuries.

Shimmy into a set of togs, pull on a pair of mittens and colourful felt booties then top off your ensemble with ear warmers – so you part with your ills, not your ears.

A one- to three-minute stint in the icebox earns you a diploma and you’ll greet a reinvigorated, refreshed you. It may not banish all your aches and pains, but for a while you’ll be too numb to notice.

Skiary

With no roads, no mobile signal and no electricity, Scotland’s Skiary is the ultimate destination for getting away from everything. The remote cottage, which accommodates just six guests at a time, is located on the shores of Loch Hourn in the northwest Scottish Highlands and is considered one of the most remote places to stay in Britain.

Skiary is only accessible by foot or by boat (don’t worry, your hosts will meet you where the road ends) and is completely disconnected from the stresses of the modern world. Your days are left free to explore the surrounds, unleash your creativity or clear your mind.

Pursue all those activities you’ve ever wanted to try, without technology and the frenzy of life to get in the way. Shoot some nature photography, fish in the loch or observe the wildlife. Local red deer visit at dusk and seals often perch on the rocks nearby.

As for accommodation, think warm, cosy fireplace with gourmet home-cooked meals. Although Skiary may be a digital detox, it’s surely an indulgence of simple pleasures.

Get physical with altitude training

Mild oxygen deprivation is all the rage in the elite sporting world, so head to the hills to train as the champions do. Boost your red blood cell count and pump up your haemoglobins as you tackle high-altitude training in Spain’s Sierra Nevada mountain range. Take advantage of a preparation program at Australia’s Bodyology Altitude Training Centre before jetting to Andalusia, where tuition is tough and the air is lean.

Perched at 2320 metres above sea level, the Centro de Alto Rendimiento (CAR Centre) boasts Olympic-sized everything, including multiple gymnasiums and a cycling track, swimming pool and soccer pitch.

Favoured by cycling king Cadel Evans and national swimming squads, it’s one of the world’s most acclaimed altitude training centres. Fly with the gods as you pelt around the outdoor athletics track, nestled between snowy mountains, and push your limit as you cycle, run and hike to 3395 metres.

The three-stage program alternates high and low living and training. After two intense weeks oxygen will feel so passé.

Fight Fire With Feet

Sometimes life needs a spark. What better way to breathe fire into your life than learning to walk across hot coals in your bare feet. Learning to master firewalking can work for your self-development, confidence and team-building skills. Who knew?

Generations of civilisations have taken part in this timeless tradition, including the Vikings, Cretans and Samoans. It’s a case of mind over matter as you delicately pad through searing coals packing a temperature of up to 800ºC.

By the end of a Napkapu Firewalking Retreat you’ll feel as if you can achieve anything. And in that spirit, you may also like to try the retreat’s other offerings, such as glass walking, breaking arrows with your throat or putting needles through your hand. Go on, we know you want to.

Alpina Dolomites

If a snow-change is your answer to the suffocation of the city, then breathe in the fresh alpine air at Alpina Dolomites, considered one of the most luxurious ski resorts in Europe, and be rejuvenated from the inside out.

Perched atop Europe’s largest high-altitude plateau in the heart of the UNESCO World Heritage-listed Dolomites, this is the perfect place for intrepid skiers, mountain adventurers and snow–bunnies alike. The scenery – and the altitude – will leave you breathless, and that’s before you even tackle the activities beckoning in the great outdoors.

Adventure seekers can take to the slopes for snowboarding and cross- country skiing. Winter warmers can soak up the stunning panoramic views from the outdoor pool, then sweat it out at the Alpina spa in either the Finnish sauna or the aromatic steam baths.

A visit in summer will see the ice melt away to reveal a stunning alpine meadow ripe for hiking and horse riding. Plus, singing in high-altitude mountain air will do wonders for your lungs.

Chasing the White Monster

Up in the European High Arctic lies a snowy wasteland where, in the long dark winters, the sun never makes it above the horizon. It is a land prowled by the polar bear, one of the most fearsome predators to walk the earth. Set foot out of the main settlement and you have to be escorted by armed guards.

The archipelago of Svalbard lies off the coast of Norway, and the best way to explore it is on a cruise. Now the word ‘cruise’ normally strikes fear into my heart and conjures images of mega-liners ferrying hundreds, if not thousands, of people around some of the more unspoiled regions of the world. Then there’s the bingo, cheesy cabaret shows and hordes of octogenarian Americans with external plumbing.

This adventure could not be further from those stereotypes. The ship only berths around a hundred people, so it never feels crowded. Officially it is an expedition vessel, which means it carries a fleet of inflatable Zodiacs for excursions. It is also a certified ice breaker, meaning it can travel through the floe. There are many ships in the region that have to turn tail at the first sight of ice, making polar bear sightings far less likely. She also has a full complement of naturalists and explorers, who give lectures, pilot the Zodiacs and lead onshore landings. They also carry guns to defend the group from any roving polar bears who might turn up, so it’s worth keeping on their good side.

Our first sighting of a polar bear is less than auspicious; cruising through broken pack ice at a slow speed, we spot a lone male asleep, his head resting on a large pile of snow as if it were a pillow. He doesn’t stir as we chug closer, then when it seems impossible he hasn’t heard us, he looks over his shoulder and does a classic double take. His head drops back down sleepily then shoots back up in surprise as his brain registers the shock of seeing a large red ship steaming towards him. He jumps up and flees across the ice, jumps in the sea, swims 30 seconds to the next ice floe, hauls himself up, runs across it and jumps into the water again. He barely looks back at the ship as he disappears into the distance.

That night in the bar everyone feels quite deflated. Sure, we’ve seen our first polar bear, but the fabled white monster didn’t seem quite so big or scary!

Our next polar bear sighting is far more exciting. Everyone is called up on deck by the captain as, from the bridge, he spots a mother and two cubs. They are still some way off, but moving steadily towards the ship. Unlike the first bear, they don’t seem bothered by our presence – in fact, they are walking straight towards us, curiously sniffing the air.

The captain cuts the engines of the ship and we drift slowly. The three bears are on the other side of the ice floe moving towards us. They are calling to each other – a strange and haunting bellow that none of the expert naturalists have heard before. It seems they’re as excited as the rest of us.

The ship bumps softly sideways into the ice floe and stops. The bears are still approaching. One of the youngsters stands on its back legs to get a better view. It couldn’t look more cute if it tried. Its mother appears massive. She’s no more than 10 metres from the ship and looks at us inquisitively, seemingly deciding we are no threat. From this distance it’s possible to make out her massive front paws and the vicious claws she uses to stun seals before moving in for the kill. The bears are with us for almost half an hour before they start to move away, still bellowing to each other.

The next day we are even luckier, and spot a mother with three young cubs. Although they look cute and cuddly, we’re told that even at this age they would still probably attack a human if they had the chance. The mother would certainly pounce without a second’s hesitation to protect her young. The bears head from ice floe to ice floe, swimming between each. As they get out of the sea, the mother rolls on her back to push water from her fur to preserve her body temperature. The cubs follow suit. It is saddening to realise that the chances of all of these three cubs surviving is virtually nil. As the four of them swim off, one of the cubs is actually hitching a ride on the mother’s back, half out of the water and looking around smugly. I get the distinct feeling this will definitely be one of the cubs who does make it.

Svalbard consists of a number of islands. Most of them are uninhabited but there are a couple of settlements on the main island, Spitsbergen, including the enigmatic town of Longyearbyen. The west side of Svalbard is influenced by the Gulf Stream and so doesn’t experience as much ice, especially in the summertime. Off the east side of Spitsbergen lie the islands of Barentsoya, Edgeoya and Nordauslandet across the Hinlopen Strait. This area is shielded from the Gulf Stream and so far has more ice and therefore many more polar bears.

Since this is an expedition, not a tour, the boat is effectively free to go wherever it wants. Captain Heslop fits the bill for an expedition captain perfectly. Not only is he adventurous and dedicated, with an apparent flair for piloting a path through the frozen sea, but he also delivers his briefings like they’re stand-up comedy routines. It’s useful, since there are long hours of steaming through pack ice with little to see and the midnight sun means days literally do drag on forever.

Luckily the ship’s bar is open until the last person goes to bed, which, with 24 hours of sunshine, can be quite early in the morning. Most nights when he has finished piloting the ship or doing ‘captain things’, Captain Heslop comes down to the bar for a nightcap and to socialise with us dark-starved drunks. He tries a number of times to explain to me exactly what the captain does, as well as the difference between a ship and a boat, but I never quite manage to grasp it – certainly not after a night in the bar.

One of the most amazing things about the midnight sun is that it is always possible to go up on deck and look at the scenery, and I often find myself there at three or four in the morning. I never tire of this, especially on the east side of Svalbard where there is a lot more ice. Another factor keeping me on deck is the fact that I am in one of the cheaper, lower cabins. The sea level is just a few inches below the level of the porthole. As we make the crossing from the mainland of Norway to Svalbard past the atmospherically misty Bear Island (of Alistair MacLean fame) the seas are so rough my porthole seems to be under the water most of the time.

Humble steeds await.
Click to view gallery

For three more days we try to make our way north in an attempt to circumnavigate the archipelago, and this results in some of our best wildlife sightings. We come across a number of walruses. These strange beasts are large and excessively fat; they haul out on the ice floes in garrulous and somewhat stinky groups. Fights break out with immediate aggression before quickly dissipating. They are so well equipped for the freezing, dark winters they often overheat in the summertime – even when sitting on ice! Their skins get pinker and pinker until they have to plunge into cold water to cool off.

We don’t spend the whole time on the ship, and often head to the Zodiacs, sometimes to cruise around looking for wildlife or to approach the towering faces of glaciers, other times for a full-scale landing.

Getting ready for an excursion takes time. Although this is summer, it’s still extremely cold and there’s often a biting wind. Waterproofs cover warm clothes and thermal underwear, and high waterproof boots complete the ensemble. Add a hat, gloves and a compulsory life jacket, and it’s difficult to walk down the gangway to the Zodiac, let alone step on to it.

Landings are even more difficult. The Zodiac is taken as close to the beach as possible but you have to wade the final few metres, all the while hoping the water is no deeper than your boots. Once on land a number of armed guides are close by in case of what is euphemistically called a “polar bear encounter”.

Although largely deserted, there are still signs of human life at a number of the landings. Unbelievably there are a number of hardy souls who used to spend the entire winter living in small, remote trapper’s huts. During this time of year the animals have thicker coats. In the case of the Arctic fox, the coat is a bushy white rather than the patchy brown it turns during summer. Trappers used to catch animals like the Arctic fox and the polar bear for their pelts, and in return were often hunted by the bears themselves. The icy conditions and permanent night must have tested the trappers to their limits. The huts are basic, to say the least, and a number still exhibit the claw marks of polar bears left when the animals attempted to fight their way in.

On the penultimate night of the expedition, we cruise into Hornsund, a spectacularly beautiful fjord, lined with craggy mountains that spawn great glaciers. The crew hosts a barbecue on the deck of the ship before an intrepid few board Zodiacs and head off for a midnight cruise. As we approach the Samrinbreen glacier I am struck by its size, and it just seems to get bigger the closer we venture. It seems to radiate waves of cold and we have to stay far enough away to avoid the huge chunks of ice that plunge to the sea.

Svalbard isn’t all about nature. One of the most fascinating spots is the old, deserted Russian mining settlement of Pyramiden. Until the 1925 Svalbard Treaty, when it became a part of Norway, the area was effectively open for any country to exploit. Even now, any citizen of the 40 signatories of the Svalbard Treaty has the right to come and settle here if they can find work.

Pyramiden was abandoned in 2000, although it looks like it has barely changed for decades. The place – a massive, sprawling, ugly complex – is pure fifties communist chic. But it has some architectural gems. There are a number of buildings for the mining and loading of coal, but also an Olympic-sized swimming pool, barracks for the miners and a sports centre. Communism seems to have lingered longer in Pyramiden than in the rest of the Soviet Union – in the centre of this ghost town is a prominent bust of Lenin, looking out over his deserted domain. For all of the facilities, life must have been harsh for the miners here, but it seems that in true Russian style they sought comfort in the bottle – there is a whole bar here, made entirely out of empty alcohol bottles.

WHICH LETTER DOES YOUR DESTINATION START WITH?

region: Europe