ITALY
AMALFI
HOTEL SANTA CATERINA

It was the mint sauce which did it. The British – and those who used to run their Empire – are the only people in the world who believe that a mixture of mint, vinegar and sugar should be served with roast lamb. Being British, I am of this opinion myself – as long as the mint is freshly picked and the sauce is properly made. (A strong malt vinegar, undiluted, can be disastrous.) But for everyone else, this is a gastronomic eccentricity too far. That is why I was so impressed, sitting in one of the most elegant dining rooms on the Amalfi Coast, to find that with my delicious lamb chops had come wonderful mint sauce. I had made a special request, and my request had been met. Nor was it the first. I had asked for my bed to be made very soft, and it had been. I had expressed a desire for crèpes Suzette at dinner, and they had arrived. And I had wondered about some fish at breakfast, and a lovely piece of grilled sea bass with porcini mushrooms had been brought to my table on a large white plate. But the mint sauce was the final proof. I now knew, without a scintilla of doubt, that the Santa Caterina was a great hotel.

Please click here to read more

UNITED KINGDOM
SCOTLAND
EDINBURGH
THE HOWARD HOTEL

Any visit to Scotland’s capital city is a treat for those of us who care about what is now called ‘the built environment’. But that treat can be elevated to an occasion of sheer, unadulterated joy if we choose the correct hotel. I had done just that. I had arranged to stay right in the heart of what is acknowledged to be a masterpiece of European architecture. Edinburgh’s New Town is a glory of Georgian style. And there in the midst of it was my destination – three houses on Great King Street, built in the 1820s. As my taxi sped past the terraces, I was full of anticipation – for even the driver had voiced his approval of my destination. Then I was there, before the dressed stone and the perfect proportions. I was at The Howard Hotel.

Please click here to read more

FRANCE
CONDRIEU
HÔTELLERIE BEAU RIVAGE

Despite numerous reports to the contrary, I am not Superman. When I motor down to the French Riviera in the Silver Cloud, I need to stop at least twice on the way. I have, of course, met those – usually they are drivers of Ferraris, or of other brightly-coloured Italian cars (in which the occupants are obliged to lie almost flat and suffer a level of engine noise which I would find horrifying) – who like to talk about their wonderful, two-hundred miles an hour thrashings from the North to the South of Europe. But such idiocy is not for me, and it is certainly not for the Royce. Neither of us is capable of it and neither of us would want it. We proceed at the sort of leisurely pace which makes the lips of the ‘boy’-racers curl. I prefer comfort to speed, and I like to look forward to my stopovers – and small wonder, when they are as good as the Hôtellerie Beau Rivage in Condrieu. Indeed, I find my charitable soul filling up with pity for those who speed past on the A7 Autoroute and do not turn off and stop for a night of rest and good cheer at this former fisherman’s house by the River Rhone.

Please click here to read more