“What do you think we call him?” I whisper to my friend as we embark on the first of many chauffeured golf buggy journeys to villa 4.
In recent years ex-pats living in southern Spain have nipped over the border to Gibraltar to buy British goodies like Marmite and Weetabix - patiently waiting if the road is closed to allow an ai
The idea of jumping into a piranha-filled lake either sounds like a particular bad one, or a scene from a James Bond movie.
It had been several hours since the sun dipped behind the tall pines to be replaced by the three-quarter moon that was our only source of light.
I can reliably report that Elvis is alive and well and living in the Florida Keys.
Gary hooked his fingers into the belt loops of his faded Wranglers and surveyed our group against the backdrop of the Mississippi and the mountain of supplies gradually lowering the canoe further
It wasn’t the most promising start to a green UK mini-break.
As Citrine picked her way through the cork plantation, and the early morning sun broke through the trees, the Sahara Desert could have been on another planet, not just 250 or so
As we rode across the dramatic terrain of black volcanic ash, Einar Bollason reined in his horse to look at the ground.
Emilia-Romagna is off the radar as far as many Brits are concerned.
“I wonder when we’re going?” I asked my able shipmate as I sifted through my suitcase, trying to decide where to stow the contents and being faced with a wide choice of nattily de
With 72 hours in Budapest and a long list of ‘must see’ sights I was determined to hit the ground running and make the most of my time.