Sant Pere del Bosc Hotel & Spa ★★★★★

As is so often the case, the first thing we noticed was the weather. We Brits have an unhealthy obsession with the weather, for a country where the climate is so seldom a cheerful topic of conversation. And so, when we stepped onto the tarmac of Girona airport and instantly sensed the warm kiss of the sun, we simply turned and smiled at each other, no words even necessary. We had been on holiday for precisely two seconds, and I already felt light years away from the previous day, which I had spent counting down the seconds and watching the rain drizzle down the window panes of my office. Just a short walk away, our hire car sat gleaming and glistening in the dazzling light. So far, so smoothly.

Just half an hour later, we had left the main roads and the city well and truly behind us. The roads got smaller and smaller, the atmosphere calmer and calmer, and the countryside wilder and wilder. Cruising up and down hills, in and out of forests, and skirting around valleys with the coast just tantalisingly out of sight, it was easy to see how the Costa Brava had earned its name – the Rugged Coast. We ascended deep into a pine forest, far away from civilisation, and suddenly the Sant Pere del Bosc emerged in front of us. No wonder that, centuries ago, Benedictine monks decided to settle here – the location is spiritual, secluded and serene.

The building itself matched up to the wondrous surroundings. An elegant tower poking its way above the trees, subtle but beautiful architecture, and smooth archways inviting us inside, all glowing in the afternoon heat. Our welcome in the airy lobby was even warmer than the sizzling heat outside, and we were quickly shown to our suite.

We would be staying in the Martinica, resplendent in turquoise and decorated with exotic flowers to evoke images of the paradisiacal beaches of the Caribbean. The décor was understated and pacifying, and the room remained spacious despite being equipped with more luxuries than I could even list. With each suite equally exquisitely designed and differently themed, whether it be the Parisian grandeur of the ‘Amelie’ suite, the effervescent class of the ‘Cava’ room, or the burlesque style of the ‘Pauline’, a homage to the first vedette of the Moulin Rouge, you are sure to want to return and discover more of the secrets hidden throughout the luxurious rooms.

Weary from our journey, we would be staying put in our peaceful sanctuary for the remainder of the afternoon. The friendly staff directed us towards the spa, which we were assured was the feather in the hotel’s sombrero. I was instantly refreshed by the indoor pool, whose water circuit took me around corners, under elegant archways, and past gently trickling waterfalls, rustic terracotta walls and calming candle lights. Overtaken by curiosity, we headed into the Ayurveda (‘science of life’) room, where ancient Hindu Ayurvedic rituals are performed with the holistic goal of restoring balance to the body and mind.

Feeling enlivened by this fascinating and invigorating experience, I left my wife in the expert, gifted hands of the beauty parlour staff and made my way towards the monastery gardens, and the outdoor pool. Stepping out of the back door of the hotel, I did a double-take. I was blown away by what I saw extending out before me – the mighty Pyrenees towering above our own hilltop location and the still Mediterranean waters twinkling in the distance. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the inviting salt-water pool, an idyllic spot to bask in the sunshine surrounded by the garden’s lush shades of green.

Before I knew it, the sun had nonchalantly begun to descend behind the magnificent monastery, and the time had come to retreat to my Caribbean paradise and prepare for the evening’s entertainment. After savouring a romantic drink together on the terrace at dusk, we set out for a restaurant we had been told was one of the finest proponents of Mediterranean cuisine for miles around, a standard bearer for local gastronomy. Fortunately, it was not a long journey, as ‘L’Indià’ is located in the bowels of the monastery itself, where the chef has set about perfecting his craft and teasing each of the five senses with his flawless menus.

Beautiful as the interior of the restaurant was, with its majestic and typically Catalan vaults, we took our seat on the terrace on the north side of the building, surrounded by the oak forest and enjoying the last glimpses of the spectacular sunset over the hills. Every one of the seven courses presented to us as part of the ‘gastronomic menu’ was more delightful than the last, and our waiter knowledgeably helped us pair our meal with some sumptuous Catalan wines.

By the end, we were more than ready for the warm embrace of our cosy bed, and fell into one of the most blissful sleeps of our lives, happily anticipating the sunrise and the chance to explore the secluded, scenic beaches, charming towns full of culture, and wild landscapes (and let’s not forget the world’s most stunning golf courses!), all located within a short drive of the hotel. Suffice to say that the Costa Brava has shed its clichéd reputation of beer-soaked, burger-fuelled, British tourists – its breath-taking scenery and authentic Catalan atmosphere made it one of the most memorable destinations I have ever visited.