Hotel Byblos, St Tropez

What I am about to tell you will blow your mind. It’s possible to spend 48 hours in St Tropez, get a tan and have an epic night out without taking a day off work.

When I say St Tropez you probably think Roberto Cavalli, P Diddy and Paris Hilton partying on board a colossal yacht.  Me too. While my boat party days are far behind me (and admittedly were more booze cruise in Crete rather than bouji boat in the SOF) there is so much more to St Tropez than that.

Feeling over-worked, over-stressed and over-screened, my criteria for a micro-break was to find the shortest flight possible that would allow for maximum relaxation time on the other side. A quick Google search led me to Nice airport, a mere two hours from Heathrow  (quick, tick!), flights were £70pp return (cheap,tick!) and a bit of luxe came in the form of a night at Hotel Byblos, nestled in the heart of St Tropez, the shining star of the French Riviera. Tick, tick,tick.

A 7am flight got us to Nice for 10am and we arrived at the legendary Byblos just in time for a late breakfast in the courtyard. With it’s Hockney-esque neopolitan ice cream coloured walls and cornflower blue shutters, it’s impossible not to fall into holiday mode the moment you enter. The most glamorous hotel on the Riviera, the Byblos was built 50 years ago by a Lebanese businessman in a bid to woo Brigitte Bardot. The hotel played host to Mick and Bianca’s wedding night and legends such as Cher,Jack Nicholson and Beyonce holiday here.  A recent redesign by Missoni also included the addition of a Sisley spa. One word of advice; pack neatly as irons are not allowed in the rooms due to security purposes and to get a t-shirt pressed will cost you 10e.

Post-breakfast, we decided to explore. Five minutes walk away are all the big names; Celine, Fendi, Chanel while Chloe, Valentino and Vuitton line in the square by the gendarmerie. Walk a little further towards the port and the cobbled streets are lined with independent boutiques Lulu, Sunday and Barr &bass selling brands like Paloma Blue and Hunza G and some of the most expensive beachwear you could buy. So I didn’t. But I wrote down the names so that you can. We missed the market on a Tuesday and Saturday but I’ve been reliably informed that the straw basket game is strong. You could shop ‘til you dropped if you had the time but getting a tan was high up on my agenda so we headed back to sun-loungers so marshmallow soft it was impossible not to snooze.

As the sun dropped, the scent of jasmine filled the courtyard and an aperitif down (well, Nick. I was secretly six weeks pregnant!), we took the hotels advice and meandered back down to the port to watch the sunset with a cold glass of rose at Le Girelier before dinner at Le Quai (French-Asian cuisine, the tuna sashimi is great so Nick tells me). Book a table outside to yacht watch and be ready for the best cabaret you’ll see on the Riviera. Le Quai turns into a club and is open until 3am but we admitted defeat by 11pm and jumped in a cab.

The next day we headed to Le Club 55 for brunch. A legendary beach club institution (book well ahead and wear your best bikini) it’s a free ten minute shuttle from Byblos who waved us off with beach towels in a canvas bag. Sadly we had to dash mid afternoon to get back to reality. One 9.40pm flight and I was in my Uber home by 11pm, refreshed, relaxed and ready for the week ahead.  I’m calling it; micro-breaks are the new mini-break.

{THE SMALL PRINT}

This was originally written by me as a travel review for Stylist Magazine.