Editor’s letter: Andrew Tuck on why we travel

After The Monocle Quality of Life Conference concluded in Istanbul in October, we took a crack team of readers on an adventure south. Everyone was a little depleted from a series of too-fun dinners, some dancefloor exuberance and taking in the joys of being in the boisterous city.

The delayed departure of the Istanbul to Bodrum flight wasn’t exactly what we had hoped for. But, secluded in the lounge, people started introducing themselves to one another and began revealing elements of their lives. We were a globally disparate pack – from Dubai, China, the Philippines, the US, Switzerland and the Netherlands – but we were all united by our mission to reach the beach resort of Macakizi. 

Landing at Milas-Bodrum Airport, we were met by a fleet of identical Land Rover Defenders, their drivers a well-turned-out and soothing team. We headed off into a dusky glow, as a bougainvillea-pink sun eased below the horizon. After brief and restorative dives from the jetty into the sea, everyone gathered for dinner at the hotel. By now we were a team, sitting together in the night air as conversations bounced back and forth across the table and laughter echoed. Over the next two days there were boat trips and snoozing, healthy lunches and books devoured. People relaxed. Characters shone. It all flowed from a couple of days spent in a well-run hotel where the luxuries were discreet and the service exemplary. I have been feeding off of that brief sojourn’s warm glow ever since; you can plan a stay too after reading our report.

This is why we travel. Whether your adventure involves driving along the Albanian coast, crisscrossing Greek mountains or finding quiet roads and outposts in remote Australia (all in this magazine), the simple act of setting off on a journey holds the potential to reset your mind, make you feel at ease, fill you with new ideas and introduce you to places and people who might just change your life (or prove to be perfect company after a Monocle conference).

While planning 2024’s outing of The Escapist, we sought out new perspectives and destinations, lifted the lid on the business of travel and met the hospitality architects changing our hotels for the better. We also interviewed the industry chiefs in attendance at the International Luxury Travel Market in Cannes to find out where trends will be taking us and looked at everything from upscale train brands to aircraft design. In short, The Escapist is a bulging suitcase of reports and ideas.

But this isn’t our only deep dive into travel. In Monocle, you’ll find The Concierge pages, where we guide you to the best places to stay, dine and visit across the globe. And, very soon, we’ll be unveiling a new world of travel at monocle.com as we explore how to guide you around the world with ease. But for now, sit back, read the pages and start dreaming. Life awaits.

A guide to Thailand’s Sukhumvit Road, from Bangkok to Koh Chang

Anyone who has visited Bangkok will know Sukhumvit Road. It’s the Thai capital’s answer to Oxford Street, Orchard Road or Fifth Avenue, all rolled into one. Visitors of every stripe are drawn to this traffic-clogged, six-lane stretch of central Bangkok. But there’s far more than the shopping malls, five-star hotels and hostess bars with questionable names (Spanky’s, we’re looking at you).

In total, Sukhumvit Road rolls east for almost 500km. Highway 3, as it is also called, travels along the Gulf of Thailand through six provinces and alongside dozens of undeveloped sandy islands, right up to the Cambodian border. It’s one of Thailand’s longest and most famous roads and one of the most significant markers of the country’s rapid economic development in the late 20th century, when US military money flooded in during the Vietnam War and let Thailand leave its war-torn neighbours in the dust.

Might the future of Thailand’s all-important travel and tourism industry lie this way too? While many visitors take flights south to the busy islands or north to the nation’s hill country, there’s some space to develop in the wilder, lesser-known east. Our “Made in Thailand” stamped Mitsubishi Pajero Sport is part of the story too. The Japanese automaker produces most of these suvs from factories near Laem Chabang, Thailand’s largest port and one of the lesser-sought spots on Highway 3. Our trip doesn’t take us off-road but it does take us off the beaten track. On the way, we’ll encounter fighter jets, rare gems, French colonial leftovers and a Scandinavian enclave with a royal seal of approval. There could even be an international incident when we arrive at our tropical destination. This is Thailand without crowds, tuks-tuks, billboards or even a 7/11.

Day 1:
Chon Buri

Our journey begins in downtown Bangkok, where Ploen Chit becomes Highway 3. Sukhumvit Road is the commercial and residential heart of the modern Thai capital and our first stop is the offices of Siam Seaplane near Bumrungrad Hospital (a mecca for medical tourists). The aviation start-up, which began in 2019 with the ambition to relaunch the seaplane sector in Thailand, swapped a regular office tower for a converted house on one of the many “sois” or alleys that run off Sukhumvit. “The trend of travel is going to go east in the next five years,” says Worakanya Siripidej, CEO and co-founder of Siam Seaplane, before running through a list of infrastructure developments and hotel openings in our direction of travel. Siripidej expects to launch her first seaplane flights in 2025 and her team has been busy signing deals with beachside resorts in the Gulf of Thailand. These will let customers fly straight from Bangkok aboard a fleet of Cessna Caravans fitted out like private jets. Eager to see the lay of the land, we jump back in the Pajero and dive straight into a traffic jam – quiet time. Thai’s don’t honk. At all. This remarkable display of collective enlightenment makes driving easy on the ears and more forgiving for uncertain out-of-towners. 

The elevated BTS “Sukhumvit Line” runs down the middle of Sukhumvit Road, casting a shadow on the shady business that populates this end. Money changers, tailors, massage parlours and shops selling cannabis are a primer for the seedy resort town of Pattaya, a favourite weekend destination for many Bangkokians. The closest stretch of hotel-lined sand to the capital is also the furthest east that many will have travelled. The arrival of family-friendly hotels, music festival Wonderfruit and the pygmy hippo Moo Deng (of internet meme fame) are, in their own ways, helping to change Pattaya’s reputation as a red-light resort. But we avoid the downtown area’s saucy nightlife altogether and plot a course for Jomtien Beach.

Canals run alongside the road for much of the drive through two provinces, Samut Prakan and Chachoengsao. Rudimentary arched bridges cross the narrow waterways at various points. We could be on the outskirts of Amsterdam, only without any bikes. Crossing into Chon Buri, we make a brief pit stop at the ptt petrol station in Si Racha – birthplace of the famous hot sauce – to fill up the tank and get takeaway coffees from Café Amazon.

Two hours later, having driven past Thailand’s largest port, we pull into Southeast Asia’s largest marina and the stomping ground of Aussie harbour master Scott Finsten. According to the Sydneysider, who takes Monocle on a golf-cart tour of his growing number of piers and superyachts, many Thais “discovered the charms of boating” during the pandemic, when money normally spent on shopping trips to Singapore and Hong Kong paid for pleasure cruisers instead. His job is to give them reasons to use their new vessels. “This used to be called the graveyard for yacht brokers but you can now jump in a taxi in Bangkok and they will know Ocean Marina,” he says, back on dry land. As the sun begins to set, we sip iced lemon tea and watch a boat being lifted out of the water. A colleague comes over for help with a visiting yacht owner who doesn’t want to check in. Finsten recently addressed an industry gathering in Kuala Lumpur and his sales pitch for the Gulf of Thailand is simple: year-round cruising, no typhoons and a boatload of uninhabited islands.

By 18.00 it’s dark and bunking options for yacht-less overland travellers in Na Jomtien are good. Boutique hotel Mason is nearby and The Standard is landing here soon. Checking into Thailand’s first Andaz hotel, which opened here in 2023 in a beautifully landscaped former family estate, deserves the hype it’s garnered. A missed lunch is made up for by an order of pork ribs on the steakhouse veranda. And, as this is Thailand, there’s mango sticky rice on the menu.

Day 2:
Rayong

At sunrise the sea is calm, the sky is blue and the busy capital feels a long way away. The Gulf of Thailand is a tranquil stretch of water and the scenery on Sukhumvit Road begins to get a lot more green and tropical as it curls around Chon Buri’s southern peninsula. Sattahip is the Royal Thai Navy’s turf and home of Thailand’s largest naval base. The seafaring admirals even rule the airspace at U-Tapao International Airport in neighbouring Rayong.

The US military built the runway for bombing raids during the Vietnam war. That’s probably why civilian travellers arriving to take a flight are met at the entrance road by a “Welcome to U-Tapao” sign and a decommissioned fighter jet parked on a roundabout. At least for now. By 2055, U-Tapao will have a new runway and terminals for civilian use capable of handling 60 million passengers a year. That’s a considerable increase on the sleepy airport’s current traffic. Construction of the runway is expected to start in 2025, according to Chula Sukmanop, secretary-general of the Eastern Economic Corridor Office of Thailand, a government body put in charge of managing the airport on behalf of the navy. “[The eastern seaboard] has been the area where foreign investment has come into the country for a long time,” says Sukmanop, who usually acts as a one-stop shop for foreign investors, from Chinese electric car manufacturers to European eyewear brands. “We are the gateway to Thailand and it is our job to make that gateway bigger,” he says.

The central government is working with some of the country’s largest corporations to build a high-speed railway between U-Tapao and Bangkok, plus a new airport city made up of conference facilities, luxury condominiums and an Formula One-grade racing track. But progress is slow-going. Our tour of the site takes in the near-completed jet-fuel tanks and a well-placed solar panel farm.

Leaving the airport behind, we turn off Sukhumvit Road and head to the beach for some lunch: grilled shrimp and deep-fried sea bass at the original branch of seafood restaurant Laem Charoen, now a national chain.  For afters, something sweet and juicy from Taphong Fruit Market. Agriculture is a big part of Thailand’s economy and the east is the place for exotic fruits. The harvest in May and June hosts orchard tours and a fruit festival starring fresh durian, mangosteens, longans and lychees. When it comes to sun-worshippers though, October to April is the best season for this part of the country, when Phuket and the south of Thailand get rained on.

Rayong’s coastline has long stretches of golden sand and Mae Phim Beach is a favourite winter perch for migrating Scandinavians. Pasi Marjamaki arrived in Mae Phim at the beginning of the century to work for a Swedish-owned property developer and launched his own estate agency in 2023. “There was almost nothing here when I arrived except the odd few restaurants,” says the Finn, while taking Monocle on a tour and pointing out where the Swedish king and queen sometimes stay at a friend’s house. “This place essentially started because of Scandinavians.”

Silver-haired Swedes might have bought the first generation of second homes but Marjamaki’s recent transactions have been with remote workers in their thirties and forties from both the East and the West. Seeing the area’s potential, Marjamaki will soon begin his first property development: a series of seven standalone homes called The Boulevard, set back from the beach. He estimates that the price of one rai (1,600 sq m) of beachfront land in Mae Phim has shot up from about thb3m (€83,000) to thb25m (€693,000).

French hospitality firm Accor recently opened a second wing of the Mercure site in Mae Phim, next to Marjamaki’s office. Monocle checks in. A rooftop restaurant overlooking the ocean has yet to open, so we head to the sister property to eat grilled squid with a green papaya salad by the water. Come nightfall the horizon across this part of the Gulf of Thailand glows green with lights from squid-fishing boats.

Day 3:
Chanthaburi

Sukhumvit Road was originally carved out of the tropical shrubbery in the 1930s and named after a former transport chief. The highway passes through a handful of unremarkable cities en route to Cambodia. As each two-storey town flashes by the passenger window, a pattern emerges: Japanese car showroom, Big C supermarket, ptt petrol station and a local building-supplies merchant. We leave Rayong and enter Chanthaburi, deciding to stop over in the province’s namesake capital, which has become a favourite with hospitality entrepreneurs seeking a slower pace of life.

Founders Chaiwat and Pinyapat Treeratsakulchai opened The Gardener café in 2016 and the adjoining bakery, L’Oeuf, in 2022. “I can’t live in Bangkok any more; it’s too busy,” says Chaiwat, who grew up in the Thai capital. The architect met his wife in Phuket while working at the same design studio and they later returned to her hometown. When Chaiwat and Pinyapat are not in the kitchen baking for financiers or working behind the counter, the 30-somethings run their own studio, Paper House.

Armed with an iced coffee and Treeratsakulchai’s signature cream-cheese banana bread, Monocle sets off to explore Chanthaburi on foot. The French briefly occupied this multicultural, multifaith settlement of half a million people at the turn of the 19th century, adding a Gallic flavour to the existing blend of Thai, Vietnamese and Chinese cuisine and architecture – and presumably an appetite for dairy. The food group is big in Chanthaburi, which features everything from milk bars to milk-flavoured lollipops at Rocket Ice Cream shop. Lolly in hand, we wander the old town and spot a bare-footed monk in orange robes popping into The Reader bookshop to pick up his latest subscription.

Chanthaburi has been a trading centre for rubies and sapphires for hundreds of years. But it’s the locals returning from the nation’s capital with a design degree and work experience who are enriching the modern city more than the dwindling trade in rare stones. Easterly is another local gem. Motion-graphics designer Khanapong Pumarin opened the brunch spot and bar next to the canal-like Chanthaburi river. His elder sister’s coffee shop, cap, is celebrating its 10th anniversary with a new venue on the opposite side of Sukhaphiban Road. Easterly has a few rooms upstairs for overnight stopovers but the islands are calling and the Pajero is waiting just across the river, right next to Thailand’s largest cathedral. We jump in, head back to the Sukhumvit Road and make our way to Trat, the final Thai province before Cambodia.

Day 4:
Koh Chang

An hour after leaving Chanthaburi we take the turn-off for Ao Thammachat ferry pier and pass by Trat Airport. The private terminal run by Bangkok Airways operates a few flights to Bangkok most days and is in the process of being expanded. Our Pajero joins a line-up of white Toyota minivans at Ao Thammachat, queuing for the ferry for Koh Chang, Thailand’s third-largest island, after Phuket and Samui. Koh Chang – which means “Elephant Island” in English, named because of its shape – ranks much lower for tourist traffic, despite the easy access. After a breezy 20-minute transfer, we’re soon rolling onto the northside dock before embarking on leisurely reconnaissance and driving up some surprisingly steep inclines. Most development is taking place on the island’s west, where the sun sets over idyllic beaches.

Having earned a rest, the Pajero pulls into The Retreat hotel near Kai Bae Beach. We take a comfy spot at the Ocean Terrace after checking in, then order a spicy green curry. A temporary stage nearby is waiting to be dismantled after hosting a 50-piece symphony orchestra. The 38-room resort and spa, designed by Bangkok-based Spacetime Architects, was opened by Mate Teeraniti and his parents in 2023. The Teeranitis’ relationship with this part of Thailand started out fairly typically for a Bangkok family (they didn’t go) before a customer of their mechanical and electrical engineering business opted to settle an outstanding bill with a hotel on Koh Chang called The Chill. “Koh Chang is not very well known and those who do know it have a preconceived idea that it’s difficult to get to,” says Teeraniti, whose childhood holidays were spent in Khao Yai, Hua Hin or Europe. The 29-year-old now visits Koh Chang once a month for business and takes part in the annual trail run. “People come here to relax, not to party,” he says. “The nature is incredible and it’s so different from Phuket and Samui. Once people see it for themselves they are always impressed.” Most of the island is a protected national park, so there’s a ceiling on the development; it will never become another Phuket, despite the recent appearance of big chains such as ihg. Teeraniti sits on the tourism committee and talks of managing growth carefully. “The scene has been maturing for the past two years – but slowly,” he says.

To really escape the crowds, we must leave the Pajero and continue by foot. The 90-minute catamaran ride from Koh Chang’s southern pier provides an opportunity to catch up with the latest news about our final destination. The tiny island of Koh Kut hit the front pages in recent months because of an oil exploration deal signed with Cambodia in 2001 involving Thaksin Shinwatra, Thailand’s former leader and father of the current prime minister. Will we be greeted by flag-waving nationalists? The Thai navy? Far from it. When we disembark and make our way to the luxury Soneva Kiri resort, staff and guests seem to live in a different timezone, whizzing around on golf carts and following a “no shoes, no news” mantra. Any political squabble over this patch of Thailand, home to a few thousand Thai residents, says more about infighting in the capital than any genuine territorial dispute with Phnom Penh. Riding a Honda scooter under a cloudless blue sky, the scenery couldn’t be more different to Bangkok – or Phuket, Chiang Mai and Samui for that matter. There are no vans with loud hailers advertising muay thai fights. They aren’t even any beach hawkers. Shops sell fishing tackle, wine and whisky, in that order.

The island’s main hotelier has named several properties after characters from Neverland: Captain Hook, Peter Pan and Wendy. As the sun sets on the clear, calm waters of Tinkerbell Beach, a few couples bob in the sea while a pair of paddleboarders glide along the horizon. In the morning a catamaran will reconnect us with our Pajero at Laem Chabang, ready for the six-hour drive back to Bangkok. But for now, there’s a fairytale ending to enjoy.

How to explore Australia’s Great Southern

The 50-minute flight from Perth to Albany, Western Australia, sets a fitting tone for the rural adventure that lies ahead. We head south in a Saab 340, a 34-seater, twin- engine turboprop. Passengers lean across the narrow aisle to chat and the sole flight attendant joins in on the small talk as she hands out tea and biscuits. Later she whips out a pen to tally how many aboard need taxis upon landing.

With a population just shy of 40,000, Albany is the largest town in The Great Southern, a region in Western Australia that is dominated by livestock and crops, delicious and underrated wines, and some of the world’s most beautiful, and emptiest, stretches of coastline. The town’s interlocking influences – its swashbuckling, whale- hunting heritage and the genteel elegance of its colonial architecture – give it an unusual charm.

It’s also a port, surrounded by great seafood. Our first stop is Ocean and Paddock for fish and chips and catch of the day, which might be grilled snapper, nannygai, which is native to Australian waters, or even hammerhead shark.

Monocle hires a car and heads out of town; within minutes, low-lying bungalows give way to fields studded with hay bales and drowsy cattle. We speed west on National Route One, the 14,500km ring road that circumnavigates Australia, spotting kangaroos and emus as we go.

Our next stop, an hour’s drive west of Albany, is Moombaki Wines, run by husband and wife David Britten and Melissa Boughey. They moved to The Great Southern 30 years ago and bought about 40 hectares of land – not quite enough to raise cattle but perfect for a small vineyard. They planted shiraz, malbec, cabernet sauvignon and chardonnay, as well as a copse of indigenous tingle trees, which line the driveway and add to the land’s biodiversity. “We love being in nature, growing things and appreciating the seasons,” says Boughey, who is also an artist. “You really notice everything.” Her studio overlooks the valley and its colours and textures inspire her painting. She finds a paper map of the area and sketches a route. We follow her suggestions, wandering under centuries-old trees in the Valley of the Giants and exploring beaches with wide shorelines, lapping waves and not a soul in sight.

We stop in Denmark, a small town about half an hour’s drive from Moombaki, for that Australian classic, the ham and cheese toastie at a small café, before capping off the day at Elephant Rocks beach, so named for the huge stones that shield bathers from the intimidating waves of the Southern Ocean and provide ideal springboards from which to leap into the turquoise water.

For the night, Aiyana Retreat, just outside Denmark, offers private villas and a spa; for a more rustic form of luxury, there are Upland Farm’s chic cabins nearby. We begin the next morning as one must in Australia: with impeccable flat whites and avocado toast at Ravens Coffee in Denmark. After exploring the town, we drive 10 minutes to The Lake House, a winery with a picturesque restaurant and the option to pick up a packed lunch in a hamper for a lakeside picnic. “It ticks all the boxes,” says Gary Capelli, who runs the winery with his wife, Leanne Rogers. He calls Denmark “an idyllic country town”.

Back in the car, we pass handwritten advertisements for organic honey and blueberries and spot more kangaroos. We opt for the scenic route through Mount Lindesay National Park. The lush pastoral countryside turns into a sparser, drier beauty as we drive, crowded with thin, fraying spines of jarrah, karri and tingle trees. All of a sudden we’re in open country – no more trees, just low-growing bush and rock – and the dirt track beneath us is the unmistakable red of the Australian outback. Then the red becomes white and we see black husks of trees, survivors of a recent bush fire. We keep going, mesmerised by the starkness. But this is four-by-four terrain and the tyres on our rental are shifting uneasily on the sandy ground, so we turn back – this is not the best place to be stranded with no phone service. Soon after turning around, we pull over to help a holidaying Scottish motorcyclist haul his glossy Honda CB500X out of the deep rut in which it has become mired – a reminder of what might have happened to us. About two hours later we reach Frankland River, a town of about 350 residents that makes Denmark look like Albany, Albany look like Perth and Perth look like Tokyo. We drop into the general store, where a man in a bush hat recommends dinner at the country club across the road. He promises that the food is good; just as well, since it’s the only option in town. We ask whether we need a reservation and he laughs us out of the shop.

We’re staying smack in the middle of the vineyards in Alkoomi Wines, in a wooden chalet with a wraparound veranda, built on low stilts to prevent snakes slithering through the door. We dip warm bread into Alkoomi olive oil – we can see the grove from where we are sitting – and sample wines ranging from a springy young riesling to a rich 15-year-old shiraz with co-owner Sandy Hallett, who is the third generation of her family to run the farm. “People love to stay here because it’s remote and quiet,” she says. “You go to sleep and there’s no noise. And it’s so beautiful.”

After our “schniti” (schnitzel) and “parmi” (chicken parmigiana) at the country club, we retire to the chalet. It’s a cool night; at some point the light drumming of hail begins its quiet chorus outside. But it’s a peaceful, natural sound and sleep comes deep and easy.

We drive into town for breakfast at the Frankland Farmhouse Diner, Frankland River’s newest – and only – café. There are homemade sausage rolls and stacks of the local newspaper, The Franklander, on the counter. We take our coffees outside to sip in the sunshine and, during a lull in service, owner Aleksandar Sasa Bacich emerges for a chat. After 22 years working as a chef in Margaret River, Bacich bought a farmhouse in Frankland River. He has a vineyard and enough olive trees to make his own olive oil for the diner, which opened in October. “I love the pace here,” says Bacich. “In Margaret River right now, the surf is busy, everyone’s kind of stressed. It’s much more relaxed here.”

The drive back to Albany takes about 90 minutes and completes our triangular route. We visit Blush Retail Gallery, which exhibits artists from The Great Southern. Founder Angie Fryer-Smith, a painter herself, shows us around the space. For dinner we walk down the block to Liberté, a restaurant run by chef Amy Hamilton, who serves cocktails, wine and a seasonal menu of French-Vietnamese sharing plates. Through the bar window we watch the sun set over the bay.

A morning flight delay lets us squeeze in one more beach outing – time seems to move slower here anyway. We drive along the bay to Torndirrup National Park on the peninsula, struggling to choose between delightful names: shall we investigate Bald Head, Salmon Holes or Frenchman Bay? In the end we choose Misery Beach. The name speaks to a time when whale blood dyed the sea red during hunting season. Now little is left to divulge Albany’s fierce history: Misery Beach is a stunning, secluded spot, with glassy aquamarine waters, white-gold sand and only a couple other people enjoying the splendid isolation.

The ultimate roadtrip across northern Galicia, Spain

Wild and windswept, Galicia’s landscapes are steeped in Celtic history, relating a story of Spain that reads rather differently from the more-often told Mediterranean tale. A wander along the footpaths that snake atop 600-metre-high sea cliffs facing the Atlantic, among prickly heather and mossy rocks, offers a literal and figurative breath of fresh air.

Galicia’s coastline is pocked with jagged rías, or estuaries, where sea and land intermingle and change with the tides. Thought to be the end of the world by early Romans, the remote Rías Altas area is dotted with fishing villages where Galicians still live up to a reputation as hardy seafarers. Now they are also seen as entrepreneurs and frontier folk with their own way of doing things. Our journey takes us southwest for three days, tracing the Iberian peninsula’s northwestern coastline from its tip. We take to high roads and zip between misty mountain hamlets and busy ports for a glimpse of how the world’s end became the centre of something much more exciting.

Day 1
Cariño to Cedeira

Our hopscotching journey across Galicia’s northern estuaries begins on the western bank of the Ría de Ortigueira in the town of Cariño. The tide is high as we approach and the multihued fishermen’s houses of the barrio marinero seem to hover on the salt-sprayed cliffs rising above the brackish waters where estuary meets ocean. In the late 19th century, Galicia’s rías were put on the map when fish and seafood caught in their waters began to be preserved in tins for international export. The demand for those conservas (including sardines, tuna and mussels) led to the development of a network of canneries next to village fishing ports.

While Cariño once had more than 20 such factories, today just one remains: La Pureza, a family-run affair founded in 1924. When we arrive, shoppers are queueing out of the door to pick up mackerel and conger eel preserved in olive oil. Conservas are still big business in Galicia, with exports rising in the past decade to €800m a year – more than half of the country’s exports in the sector. La Pureza’s 14 employees prepare and package fish according to traditional methods. Ana Docanto, our tour guide, is one of four siblings at the helm of the cannery founded by their grandfather. “We could have expanded by incorporating more machinery,” she says as we continue through the busy processing floor where red-and-yellow cylindrical tins are stacked high. “But we prefer tradition.”

A loaf of crusty bread and scallops in La Pureza tomato sauce make the perfect aperitivo during our stop at Cabo Ortegal, a 10-minute drive north from Cariño. From this cape’s red-and-white-striped lighthouse, you can take in spectacular views of the Capela da mountains, which descend into the roiling Atlantic. We head back into Cariño with fresh salt spray in our hair, ready for lunch at Restaurante Marea, where we tuck in to cockles in a creamy ginger-orange sauce, along with baked cod served over seaweed risotto.

After our meal, we drive into the Capelada mountains for 15km to reach San Andrés de Teixido. The sea-facing hamlet is home to a pre-Christian shrine. It was chosen by the Celtic ancients for its views, which remain divine to this day. There is even a saying in Galego, “He who goes not to San Andrés de Teixido in his lifetime will visit after death.” This is based on a legend that those who fail to venture up will be punished in their afterlives, reincarnated as lizards and snakes. Pilgrims must drink from each of the three spouts of the shrine’s fountain upon arrival in order for Saint Andrew to grant their wish.

Not one for superstition, Monocle takes its leave, following the winding road down to Cedeira. This town, set on the eastern bank of the Cedeira Estuary, has been linked to whaling and fishing since the Middle Ages. Today it is known for its goose barnacles, or percebes. This delicacy must be hand-picked by nimble percebeiros, who face the risk of being struck by massive waves as they navigate the coast’s slippery rocks on foot to reach certain nooks; only in these can the tasty – but almost unforgivably ugly – barnacles be found. Restaurante Badulaque, a three-minute drive from Cedeira’s fish market, is the perfect place to sample freshly caught percebes, as well as langoustines, clams and spider crabs. 

Cedeira’s seafront gives way to an elegant promenade where the Condomiñas river bisects the historic centre. It is a good vantage point from which to see how the town has evolved from fishing village to resort. As paddleboarders make their way upriver and children leap from the wrought-iron bridge into the waters, we approach our next stop. Os Cantís is a nine-room inn set in a restored townhouse, which was built in the early 20th century and once served as a priest’s residence. Hoteliers Fernando Cheda and Dolores López, together with interior architect Belén Sueiro, preserved the three-storey building’s gleaming white façade with wrought-iron terraces in a 2024 renovation. “It was more difficult and costly to build each floor with wood rather than concrete,” says López. “But while the process wasn’t very practical, it was in line with our ‘Take it or leave it’ philosophy, as well as our attention to detail.” Several rooms also feature the original stone walls. Outside, the river-side terrace is an ideal spot for savouring a glass of white wine paired with monkfish a la cedeiresa.

Day 2
Ferrol to A Coruña

Leaving behind the quiet fishing villages we venture to the city of Ferrol, located on a narrow-mouthed ría of the same name. Thanks to its sheltered geography and deep natural harbour, Ferrol has been a shipbuilding hub since the early 18th century. The city’s Magdalena neighbourhood comprises a rectangular grid of lanes, featuring two and three-story residences built in the 19th and 20th centuries. Many of the upper levels of the houses here feature enclosed terraces, or galerías, inspired by the window-lined sterns of galleons. Galician architect Rodolfo Ucha Piñeiro contributed numerous art nouveau gems to the barrio, such as Casa Pereira, which features oversized circular windows that dominate its façade.

Strolling past the terrazas and shops that line the pedestrianised Rúa Magdalena, we reach an unusual threshold. It is made from white marble and inlaid with black block letters, reading “El Rápido”. The shop opened in 1922 as an ultramarino, a Spanish general store, which specialised in items such as chocolate, coffee and rum that came from overseas colonies. Owner Emilio Castro, an effusive 83-year-old, smiles from behind the oak counter and has a kind word for anyone who steps in. Some come to shop, others simply to check in on Don Emilio, as everyone calls him. “I am a neighbour,” he says.

Castro took over the shop from his father 66 years ago, and transforms the everyday act of shopping for groceries into something uplifting and memorable. At the behest of a customer, he gladly reaches across the countertop for an oversized glass jar of cascarilla, the shells of cacao seeds with medicinal properties, which few shops still sell. When customers leave, he bids farewell with a wink. And the jolly sage makes sure to warn us against prisas, or rushing, before we leave. “My friend,” he says. “Hurrying is of little use.”

But we don’t need to rush to savour a flavour usually associated with Portugal at the Lusitânia Café, one street over from El Rápido. The custard tarts there serve as a sweet reminder of Galicia’s proximity to the home of pasteies de nata, and their intermingling cultures.

Time is a recurring theme in Galicia. This is perhaps due to the proximity of the shore, where the ocean’s waves slowly carve the dramatic coastline of the region. Ramón María del Valle-Inclán, one of the most celebrated 20th-century Galician writers, wrote, “Nothing will be that did not come before. Nothing will be that does not belong to tomorrow.” Those with the time to contemplate this will surely see how the words reflect on Galicia itself.

Next stop is the bustling port city of A Coruña, where we meet watchmaker David Rodríguez. In addition to searching out and repairing fine analogue timepieces, he is responsible for maintaining the city’s oldest public clocks. His workshop, Relojería Nemesio, is steps from the city hall’s clocktower, where he fulfils his civic duty. “I must climb up there every day to wind it, including Saturdays and Sundays,” he says. “Would you like to see?”

An elevator takes us up three storeys from an ornate entrance hall, after which we ascend four flights of increasingly narrow stairs. From the clock tower’s pedestal, perched over the portico-lined Plaza de María Pita, we take in sweeping views of A Coruña’s rooftops and marina. Rodríguez tells us about the clock that dates back to 1909; he drove an initiative for its restoration in 2020.“Throwaway culture is not for me,” he says. “Rather than helping humans, fully automated objects actually limit our capacity to respond. I like to interact with life, with the world.” Loud thwacks fill the tower as Rodríguez pushes the hand-crank. When he comes to rest, he reveals that this old commitment could be aided by a modern intervention. “I’m working on a special adaptor, which could wind the clock using electricity, in case I can’t come up here on a given day.”

The restaurant 55 Pasos sits alongside the plaza. We take our seats at the wooden counter, which opens onto the kitchen. Chef Balázs Menyhard toasts bread over Japanese coals and his partner, floor manager Nataly Rodríguez, cuts paper-thin portions of cured beef from León with the deli slicer. Once the space’s eight tables are full, Rodríguez calls the diners to attention to announce the day’s dishes. From Thai green mango salad to Galician beef sweetbread, the menu demonstrates a commitment to using the best raw ingredients from the market on any given day. “Balasz has always said that we would end up opening a restaurant together,” says Rodríguez.

The pair met while working at The Berkeley hotel in London, with Rodríguez in management and Menyhard in the kitchen of its two-Michelin-starred restaurant. With their ties to the British capital – both also went on to work at Hedone in the city’s Chiswick neighbourhood – it came as a surprise when they ended up in Rodríguez’s hometown in 2019 and opened 55 Pasos.“We were told ‘no way’; there is no market in A Coruña,” says Menyhard. His fingertips massage an orb of burrata from Puglia, to which he will add the bright purple leaves of local basil. He interrupts his preparation to hop out of the kitchen and commence a lively conversation with a curious diner at a nearby wine fridge. They eventually settle on one of the restaurant’s biodynamic bottles. “I love wine, maybe more than food,” he says with a giggle. “But as a chef, I’m not supposed to say that.” As we tuck into a poppy seed-covered eggy bread for dessert – a recipe from Menyhard’s native Hungary – we can’t say that we are worried about the chef’s priorities.

A 20-minute drive brings us to Noa Boutique Hotel, on the opposite side of Ría da Coruña’s bay. Here we enjoy a fiery sunset from the rooftop infinity pool. Designed by local architectural firm Sinaldaba, the hotel’s 32 minimalist guestrooms all boast sea views. The 16th-century Castelo de Santa Cruz completes these vistas, 140 metres from the shore and reached via a wooden footbridge. Time has escaped us once again. Bed beckons.

Day 3
Buño to Fisterra

We start the day with a bracing swim, then check out. Green hills with leafy oaks and poplars dot the landscape as we drive southwest, past A Coruña. After 40 minutes, we arrive in Buño on the Costa da Morte.

This village is known for its oleiros, clay artisans who have been crafting their wares there since the 16th century. Ceramicist Alberto Lista was initiated in his craft by his father, who apprenticed under Lista’s grandfather. “Generational knowledge has been passed down in Buño as far back as anyone can remember,” says Lista, who greets us in a black, clay-specked work apron at the door of his shop, Alfarería Lista. He recently took over the establishment from his father, who is now retired. Though in the 1950s about half of the village’s residents were potters; today only eight workshops remain. “I decided to uphold this tradition,” says Lista.

Lista is part of a wave of young innovators bringing a design-focused approach to Galician pottery. Incorporating 3D-printing techniques has allowed him to produce increasingly thin clay objects for special commissions. “People are seeking simplicity more and more,” he says. “I like that. I’m quite basic myself. I work with simple colours and shapes that aren’t overly complex.”

We hop in the car for a quick 10-minute drive to reach O Fontán Restaurante for lunch. The restaurant is in a stonework casona, or stately residence, which the owners believe was built in the 19th century. It focuses on traditional local dishes such as grelos (broccoli rabe) and a supremely tender presa de cerdo celta, pork shoulder from a local breed of pig.

This part of the region is known as Costa da Morte largely thanks to the notable shipwrecks that took place in its rocky waters during the 19th century. Despite the preponderance of beaches – Galicia is home to more than 850, the most of any Spanish region – it is particularly important to choose sheltered coves and rías for swimming as currents here can be very strong.

We drive 15 minutes to Praia de Laxe before beach- hopping to the hamlet of Arou – a further 40 minutes southwest through hillsides rich in seaside pines. You can learn about local bobbin lace artisans in the fishing town of Camariñas. They are said to have learned their craft from Italian women who were rescued from a nearby shipwreck. Lucky for us, we have blue skies and calm waters ahead as we arrive in Fisterra. The name is derived from the Latin Finis Terrae, which is where the “end of the world” phrase comes from. This city’s lighthouse is the traditional conclusion to one of Christianity’s oldest pilgrimages, the Camino de Santiago, which dates back to the 9th century. Our pilgrimage, however, is of the culinary variety.

It is well known across Spain that Galicia boasts spectacular fish and seafood. A few steps from the sands of Praia da Langosteira is the restaurant Tira do Cordel. The dining rooms in the former salting factory surround a large courtyard grill, where neat rows of wild-caught sea bass and scorpion fish are roasted to perfection. Try their almejas a la marinera (clams in white wine) or longueirón (a local variety of razor clam). After dessert we walk down the stone steps just outside the restaurant and onto the beach for some sun followed by a bracing swim. We stroll up the shore to a nearby hotel as the tide rolls in.

Hotel Bela Fisterra is a remarkable seafront lodging with a literary bent. Each of its 15 rooms have names drawn from sea-inspired literature, including Moby Dick and The Odyssey. Founded in 2018 by Pepe Formoso, the hotel uses energy drawn from solar panels and heating supplied by geothermal pumps, which help it to achieve zero-carbon emissions. Keeping the design locally inspired, Formoso enlisted A Coruña-based architectural firm Creus e Carrasco to create the minimalist structure that is intended to evoke the fish-salting facilities that were once prevalent along the shore. Inside, furniture designs by Galicia’s Isaac Piñeiro are modern while retaining a joyful spirit and a sense of place that is utterly unique to the area.

Laying on a lounger of the hotel’s terrace, overlooking the water as the sun’s dying rays tinge the clouds pink and orange, Galicia feels at once modern and ancient. Somewhere worth exploring, regardless of the time of year. “There’s nothing more beautiful than observing a storm from the water’s edge,” says Formoso. “The vitality of the salt air in Galicia can and should be enjoyed all year.”

A guide to Zagorohoria, Greece’s undiscovered mountainous hideaway

The journey from Athens to Zagorohoria is a scenic five-hour drive. The Mediterranean landscape of scrubland and low-slung trees gives way to expanses of cotton fields, while hills carpeted with rich, green pine forests rise in the distance. At roadside stalls, fruit sellers court the business of passing drivers. “How do you know about Zagorohoria?” asks one stallholder as we choose a bunch of sweet grapes from his display.

Most travellers head to Greece for its sun-drenched shores and clear waters but in recent years an increasing number of visitors have started to venture further inland. About 80 per cent of Greece’s land is covered by mountains and many people are beginning to discover the country’s high- altitude expanses. The region of Zagorohoria (or Zagori) lies in the Pindus mountain range along the nation’s northwestern border with Albania. The area, with its 46 ancient villages, was recently added to Unesco’s World Heritage list as an “outstanding example of traditional human settlements”.

Zagorohoria is best reached via Ioannina, a vibrant university town. We park along the lakefront promenade, where rows of lively tavernas, cheese shops and cafés are filled with students sipping freddo espressos. Ioannina has a long history of silversmithing, with craftsmen having made intricate buckles, plates and jewellery in the city for more than 400 years. You can still find evidence of this tradition on Averof Street, where shops offer antique artefacts and contemporary takes on old designs. Jeweller Dimitris Zhnas has been making bracelets, necklaces and rings here for more than 30 years. “I also incorporate precious and semi-precious stones into my pieces,” he says.

Further into the city, bazaars overflow with trinkets and cowbells. On one corner we find Telis, a shop famed for its knives and farming tools. “My grandfather opened the shop in this exact location 90 years ago,” says owner Rania Pitenis, who runs the business with her husband, Evangelos Gkogko. “Evangelos makes the knives’ handles from Greek wood,” she says. “And the blades come from a carbon-steel stock first bought by my grandfather.”

Telis’s creations are prized in restaurants across Greece, from the Peloponnese to the Cyclades, though the workshop remains rooted in Ioannina’s rural heritage. Before the Second World War, Telis was well known for knives. But as others began to import them, Pitenis’s father’s focus shifted to sheep shears. “It is still a big part of our business,” says Pitenis. “Our spring production is dedicated to making tools for shepherds.” Just a five-minute walk from Telis is Select, a bakery that has been serving sweet and savoury pies since 1964. Visitors of all ages line up for freshly made bougatsa – a layered-phyllo pie filled with custard and dusted with cinnamon and icing sugar – and tyropita, a pastry made with feta.

As we head back to the car, one of Ioannina’s mosques comes into view. During Ottoman rule, the city was known as Europe’s Eastern gate. After an easy 40-minute drive, we reach Kato Pedina, our first stop in Zagorohoria. “The region enjoyed a degree of autonomy in the Ottoman period,” says hotelier Georgios Kountouris. “The villagers formed an agreement with the pasha, which allowed the area’s unique culture and traditions to flourish.” In 2010, Kountouris and his family relocated to Zagorohoria from Athens and turned their 300-year-old family home into a hotel named Apeiros Chora. It is a striking example of the region’s distinctive architecture, built entirely from stone with a grey-slate roof made to endure the region’s harsh winters. “It took five years to restore the structure to its original state,” says Kountouris. “We were very lucky to find local stone masons to work with.”

The fertile farms surrounding Kato Pedina produced much of Zagorohoria’s food during the 18th century, which brought wealth to the area. Schools, carpet-making workshops and embroidery studios thrived. But like many rural Greek villages, it experienced significant emigration after the Second World War. Villagers left for bigger cities in search of work, and mansions fell into ruin. “Traditional ventures such as winemaking, beekeeping and dairy production were no longer financially viable, so repurposing the original mansion into a hotel seemed as though it was the only path forward,” says Kountouris.

Tourism is now a vital contributor to Zagorohoria’s economy. People with ties to the region are slowly returning to help preserve its cultural, architectural and culinary heritage by opening new businesses. “This is the land of my ancestors,” says Vassilis Katsoupas, who left a career in the environmental field and his life in Canada to open Kanela & Garyfallo, a mushroom-focused restaurant in Vitsa, just 15 minutes from Kato Pedina. Portions are generous and sharing is advised. “You need to study mushrooms carefully; knowing how to distinguish between edible and poisonous species is just as important as knowing how to cook them,” says Katsoupas. When Monocle visits, dishes include crunchy cabbage salad with pomegranate, apple and arbutus honey, and rich risotto with morels, porcini, trumpets and black truffles. “Fungi are so important to the environment here. The truffles are a local delicacy but most of them are exported,” he adds.

Back at Apeiros Chora, Kountouris pours us his amber-hued aged tsipouro, a potent Greek spirit, for a nightcap. “The house was lived in until the start of the Second World War. To protect it, my grandfather gave one of the rooms to a priest,” he says, pointing at a religious icon in the lounge. “A relative bought us this icon. We discovered that someone had taken it but returned it to our family after a spell of bad luck. They thought it was cursed,” he adds jokingly. Kountouris suggests visiting a nearby church the next day. “It’s not open to the public but I can get the keys.”

In the morning we follow him down the hill to a small 16th-century chapel. More than 200 churches and monasteries are scattered among Zagorohoria’s villages. Inside this example, intricate frescoes gleam in the dim light. Kountouris gestures to the cupola. “Look, the Greek philosophers,” he says. “Local priests believe that they paved the way for Christianity.”

After we leave the fertile, open valley of Kato Pedina, the roads become narrower. We have to slow down as we climb the ribboned route towards the imposing peaks of the Pindus mountains.“For many years, Zagorohoria felt isolated from Greece’s largest cities due to poor road connections,” says Vasilis Iosifidis, owner of Aristi Mountain Resort and Salvia restaurant. Born in Thessaloniki, Iosifidis returned to Greece after living in Germany and now divides his time between his hometown and the small village of Aristi. “I have always been a passionate hiker and the trails here are one-of-a-kind,” he says.

This isolation has shaped Zagorohoria’s culinary traditions. At Salvia, chef Yannis Liokas combines regional ingredients with the resort’s own vegetables. The menu celebrates the region’s flavours with seasonal soups, smoked trout and roasts. The dining room hums with conversations in French, English and Yiddish, reflecting the growing international interest in this once-isolated region. Zagorohoria has many smaller guesthouses but few hotels, with the biggest being the 26-key Aristi Mountain Resort. This is in keeping with the region’s focus on preserving its character and Unesco heritage listing, as well as creating a more intimate and authentic travel experience for visitors.

“Most of the tourists in the area are Greek but there are also Israelis, Germans, Dutch and French people,” says Chloe Economides of Avragonio hotel. Avragonio is a family affair nestled beneath the imposing 700-metre-high Astraka cliffs in the village of Megalo Papigo. Possibly the region’s best-known towns, Megalo (Big) and Mikro (Small) Papigo embody its charm and have become year-round destinations for curious travellers. The hotel’s suites feature fireplaces, handwoven textiles and sweeping views of Astraka. From here, hiking trails take more adventurous visitors to the bottom of Vikos Gorge, the world’s deepest canyon relative to its width.

We exit the car just outside the village to begin our exploration on foot. Colourful wooden doors line the cobblestone streets. We take a path suggested by Giorgia, Chloe’s mother, which leads us to rock pools where locals and visitors cool themselves in the refreshing water. This brief adventure leaves us longing for a hearty meal.Papigo is home to numerous restaurants, such as Nikos & Ioulia, which offers sweeping views over the gorge. When we visit, Ioulia warmly describes the day’s offerings: slow-roasted katsiki, wild greens, briam and a sumptuous portokalopita – appropriate rewards for completing a strenuous hike in the mountains.

The next day, breakfast at Avragonio fuels us for the roadtrip to Metsovo, a three-hour drive east of Zagorohoria. As the road from Papigo begins its descent, the towering cliffs of Astraka disappear behind us and the glistening blue-green waters of the Voidomatis river come into view. A few brave tourists stand in the almost-glacial waters, while a rafting boat appears from around a bend in the gorge.

Just past Aristi, we veer off the main road, which takes us to a series of famous 18th- and 19th-century stone bridges. Their moss-covered arches – once vital lifelines connecting isolated villages – now stand as silent monuments to the area’s architectural legacy. After a while, the view opens onto the sweeping plains surrounding the Aoos Springs Dam and the landscape transforms into a serene tableau of rolling meadows and still waters.

The scent of black pine and damp grass fills the car. Shepherds sit on hillside rocks, their flocks grazing nearby. Their dogs’ protective nail-studded collars signal that we’re in wolf and bear country. We slow several times to allow animals to wander across the road. At various points, a motionless cow needs coaxing out of the way with the help of our horn, while goats stare defiantly at the car and a few sheep, donkeys and tortoises amble past.

“I call it the Greek safari,” says Maria Koulakidou, sales manager at the Grand Forest Metsovo hotel. We are welcomed into the building with hot mountain tea and invited to relax on dark-blue sofas adorned with embroidered pillows in traditional motifs. “You’ll find handmade furniture throughout the hotel, as well as pieces inspired by regional craftsmanship and Greek art,” says co-owner Ellie Barmpagiannis. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the tranquil valley views. “I always return to the mountains when I want to feel grounded,” says Barmpagiannis. As the day comes to a close, we head to the hotel pool to enjoy a swim and reflect on the path that led us here. Next time you crave an escape, why not follow in the footsteps of the Greeks: venture north and take the road less travelled.

Everything you need to know about visiting the Albanian Riviera 

It began as a whisper, an intriguing proposition. As interest surged, it grew to a chorus chanted from London to Los Angeles: “Visit Albania!” “It’s like the Cayman Islands but in Europe!” “It’s like Greece but half the price!” “The waters are as blue and warm as the Caribbean Sea itself!” The Balkan nation is now, according to the chatter, the place to go to enjoy a sun-drenched, beachside European getaway with an aura of post-communist exoticism. To verify these claims, Monocle set out for the 120km-long southern stretch of coastline dubbed the Albanian Riviera (no doubt by a marketing-savvy clerk at the National Tourism Agency with a penchant for chic suffixes).

One of the easiest ways to access the southern tip of Albania is to board a ferry from Corfu or the Puglian city of Bari and cross the sea to Sarandë, a port town with pizzerias, cocktail bars and gelaterias that line its tidy promenade. Here, vendors in canopied stalls hawk carved wooden goods and football shirts to passers-by. The mountains that cradle the bay heave with hotels and apartment blocks featuring sea-facing balconies. Sarandë’s main draw is its convenience as a launchpad for the rest of the region. Turn right from the port to go south or left to go north. A further 20-minute drive will bring you to a rocky beach with velvety blue waters.

As we pick up our rental car, our friendly lessor tells Marco Argüello (Monocle’s Athens-based photographer) that he can pay in full at the end of our visit. “And if you don’t, the police will find you very easily,” he adds with a smile as he waves us off.

The south of the riviera, especially the town of Ksamil, has absorbed much of the surge in tourism in recent years. It’s easy to see why. The craggy, arid landscape harbours beaches rendered in oversaturated tones. Jetsetters abound; British-Albanian singer Dua Lipa has often stayed in a villa within the luxurious Kep Merli resort. As we wind our way down the coast, painted wooden signs advertise beach clubs with names like Bora Bora, Puerto Rico, Blue Diamond, Paradise and, more mystifyingly, Greg.

By the water, the white drapery of cabanas-for-hire billow and straw umbrellas shade loungers, the pulsating sounds of Europop anthems dominating the airwaves. Fruit sellers rove the pristine beaches with trays of cherries, grapes, figs and fried dough. “I’ve come here to escape the crowds in Italy but still experience something you might find in Puglia or even Greece,” says Giuseppe, an Italian holidaymaker sporting Speedos, a Panama hat and an iridescent sheen of sunscreen. Going by snippets overheard, it seems that most people hail from Giuseppe’s home country. However, there is a fair degree of English, Dutch, German, French, Danish, Russian and Portuguese representation too. On Pulëbardha bay, we meet a British couple in their sixties who say that they have been pleasantly surprised by the beauty of the Albanian coast. Overall, the mood is upbeat. Tanning sessions are interrupted for leisurely lunches of grilled fish, mussels and bottles of Korça, the local beer with labels featuring buxom Balkan women.

Construction has noticeably surged to meet the infrastructure demands of the Albanian Riviera’s newfound popularity. “Albania is developing a lot,” says Elena Bardhi, co-owner of the Moyo beach club on Drymades beach. “There is new investment coming in and it’s changing year-to-year.” Once a haven for hippies who would spend summers camping there, Drymades now exemplifies the wave of beach clubs and resorts crashing down on these once-virginal seafronts. But Bardhi cites the welcome arrival of the new Llogara tunnel, a government-funded project that opened in July 2024. The former 30-minute journey over the Ceraunian mountain range, travelling from Dukat to Palasë, has been shaved to seven minutes. Albania’s prime minister, Edi Rama, is also pushing for a new airport in Vlorë to improve access to the south. “We need to cherish and protect the land but we’re also trying to put Albania on the map,” says Bardhi. “In five years, everything will be closer to being finished.”

Since founding Moyo in 2022 with her husband Julian Zguro – the chef behind popular Tirana restaurant Tribe – Bardhi has overseen the beach club, which includes two restaurants, a yoga studio, a spa and a shop that stocks clothes and jewellery made by local artisans. She also organises events throughout the summer every year to attract lively crowds. But while Bardhi is eager to expand Moyo’s reach by hosting international DJs, she is conscious of safekeeping Albanian culture too; line-ups are spliced with local iso-polyphony singing (the Unesco-protected style of folk music). “We implement an Albanian vibe because we’re here, on this beautiful sea with the mountains directly behind us,” she says. “It’s magical.”

It’s true. For those not in a rush, taking the scenic route through the mountains is a rewarding experience. Olive groves mingle with sprays of lavender, sage and bougainvillea. The occasional mushroom-shaped concrete bunker is a reminder of Albania’s Stalinist leader Enver Hoxha’s rule from 1944 to 1985: paranoid about an invasion, he commissioned the construction of more than 750,000 of these bunkers that, ultimately, were never used. Today, herds of brown horses and their foals graze past them. Roadside vendors sell dried sage and rose petals, fresh plums, fig jam, honey and olive oil in repurposed plastic bottles and jars – often displayed on chintzy floral blankets. In the mountains, the sound of cicadas is constant when it’s not being drowned out by the intoxicating riffs of Balkan pop coming from the car radio.

The south of the country still struggles with the rural exodus that took place in the wake of Hoxha’s rule. (The Albanian diaspora is estimated to be about 1.2 million people; the national population is currently 2.4 million.) But the emergence of the coastline as a tourism destination has seen many people of Albanian descent return to the country for a holiday or to find work during the summer season. For example, Moyo’s friendly Albanian shopkeeper Jehona Shabani is usually based in Stockholm. And we meet Noel Çani in Qeparo at his family’s seven-bedroom hotel, Kshira Oasis; he now lives in Rome but returns to Albania every summer to help his parents run the business. “My friends in Italy all say that they want to come to Albania now,” says Çani. “When I was growing up, everyone here wanted to leave because of the economy,” he adds with a perfectly executed Balkan shrug.

Even non-Albanians are setting up their own ventures on the riviera. In the laidback seaside town of Himarë, we meet for a final sundowner with Mexico City-based Leah Whitman-Salkin. With her partner, chef Raphael Wolf, and friend Ervjola Selenica, she opened restaurant and bar Plazhi i Saturnit as a summer project. Prior to Mexico, Whitman-Salkin lived and worked for six years as a book editor in Tirana. There, she opened a bookshop, started a feminist reading group and curated the Albanian pavilion at the 2016 Venice Architecture Biennale. “Going to the coast in the summer was a very important part of my life in Albania,” she says over a glass of orange wine. “Being here holds a lot of meaning. We all had this fantasy of bringing people together at a beach bar. We’re a hotchpotch crew but it’s been amazing. We’ve had friends come from Tirana and Pristina but also Mexico.”

Wolf is busy in the kitchen preparing today’s menu: fried potatoes with sage foraged that morning, caponata and pink shrimp crudo in plum water. This evening, his sous-chef is Whitman-Salkin’s mother, Frankie. “We work with three different local fishermen to source all of the seafood,” says Whitman-Salkin. “It’s fusion food in the sense that we’re all designing the menu together and we come from different backgrounds. Raphael trained in New York but has also worked in Tokyo and Mexico City.”

As we dig in, the sky glows orange and beachgoers begin to pack up their lilos and parasols. It’s true what they say: you should visit Albania. But it’s not Italy, Greece nor anywhere in the Caribbean Sea – and that’s a good thing. It has a charm of its own.

The Albanian Riviera address book

Stay: Zoe Hora
Perched in the hills overlooking the village of Dhërmi, Zoe Hora is an upmarket hotel that offers rooms and villas within its stone-walled premises. Stay here to enjoy breakfast by the pool and an evening aperitivo, while taking in a view of the sea from a roof terrace.
zoehora.com

Eat: Taverna Stolis
The Albanian Riviera’s proximity to Greece can be felt in the abundance of tavernas offering fresh fish, grilled vegetables and baked dishes such as moussaka. Our favourite is Taverna Stolis in Himarë, set within the peaceful confines of an olive grove. Make sure to round off the meal with a shot of the homemade raki, brewed in a bottle that also contains a wooden cross.
+355 69 283 3993

Drink: Moyo Beach Club
Located on the far southern end of Drymades beach, Moyo Beach Club attracts a well-heeled crowd. After a day spent catching waves in the Ionian Sea, we recommend settling in here for the evening with a margarita and small plates of lobster ceviche, tuna tartare and bruschetta.
moyo.al

See: Zvërnec Monastery
Located north of the pine-tree forests of Vlorë, on an island in the Narta Lagoon, you will find this 14th-century Byzantine monastery. Inside, the paintings and intricate woodwork are well-preserved examples of Balkan art history. If you’re lucky, you might even see some flamingoes in the lagoon.

Shop: Abaia Winery & Vineyard
Albania’s wine scene is on the rise, with wineries improving the local stock. Make a pit stop at the Abaia Winery & Vineyard near Durrës to pick up some bottles of Shesh i Bardhë white and some local virgin olive oil to take home.
abaiawinery.al

Swim: Gjipe beach
A brisk 20-minute hike down a red-dirt trail takes you this beach. Located in a secluded bay surrounded by lush greenery, it’s a hidden gem that is well worth the effort to get there.

The 15 things on Monocle’s 2025 travel wishlist

1.
BC05
Braun

To keep us on time for our flights and checkouts, we’re turning to the BC05 by Braun, a quartz precision travel clock created by German designer Dietrich Lubs in 1995. This battery-powered, analogue alarm clock provides the essentials while you’re on the road and its protective lid is equipped with a world time chart to help you navigate across time zones. Paired with an otherwise monochrome palette, the red “off” and green “snooze” buttons foster intuitive use and are in keeping with the colour schemes of many other Braun products.

With its sleek silhouette and emphasis on functionality, the BC05 exemplifies the kind of utilitarian design that we have come to associate with Braun, pioneered by the German manufacturing company in the 1980s by industrial designer Dieter Rams. Our favourite detail? The quiet clock can leap into action with a crescendo alarm that gradually gets louder, ensuring that even the deepest of sleepers can be roused. Now, that’s what we call sound design.

2.
Nexpect Coffee
Tokyo

Barista-turned-businessman Kenji Kojima wanted to get back to doing what he loves best: making coffee. After helping Oslo-based Fuglen to set up in Tokyo, he recently opened Nexpect Coffee in a former newspaper shop on a quiet street in Kodenmacho in Nihonbashi. Customers order and pay on a screen by the counter, freeing baristas to focus on making great coffee.

Nexpect even has its own robot mascot, Neku Yukun. “It’s good to be in a new place,” says Kojima, who has moved to the neighbourhood, which he finds a refreshing change from Shibuya. The area is warming up with new shops and restaurants, and many coffee pilgrims are making their way to see what Kojima, a renowned figure in the Tokyo bean scene, is up to. A roasting machine is on order and, if all goes well, this will be the first of several Nexpect coffee shops. 
nexpect.theshop.jp

3.
Steinach Townhouse
Merano, Italy

Set across two buildings in the Steinach neighbourhood of Merano’s historic centre, this hotel is just the right blend of old and new. The 17th-century building was tastefully restored by designer couple Roger Botti and Giulia de Andreis, with an understated colour scheme that includes pistachio-green window shutters.

Mid-century pieces such as Le Corbusier’s Marseille lamp are juxtaposed with flashes of Tyrolean culture, including contemporary art from local artists and hand-painted stencil work on traditional wooden furniture (for which South Tyrol is famed). With 11 spacious suites, each with its own bedroom and living room areas, this is the ideal escape from which to launch yourself into winter hikes – or to hit the slopes at the nearby Merano 2000 resort.
steinachmeran.com; theaficionados.com

4.
Kaenkrung
Bangkok

This new spot in west Bangkok has a refreshingly offbeat take on Thai cuisine. Kaenkrung opened in October 2024 with a menu that draws on the flavours of Isan, Thailand’s northeastern province. The converted shophouse on the Thonburi side of the Chao Phraya river is the second restaurant by Paisarn Cheewinsiriwat and Kanyarat “Jib” Thanomseang. The two chefs have drawn crowds with their first site, Kaen, a culinary destination in Khon Kaen, one of the largest cities in Isan. At Kaenkrung, the pair bring their signature dishes and a playlist of funky, folky mor lam music to the capital (Krung thep is slang for Bangkok).

“We want to create contemporary regional cuisine that embraces local ingredients and traditional cooking techniques,” says Cheewinsiriwat, an Isan native and former executive chef at Chiva-Som health resort. Isan pork sausages are an easy entry point, before moving on to a creative twist on spicy green salad (som tam), made using jicama, a tropical root vegetable, instead of the usual papaya. The northeast is home to some of Thailand’s best beef, so the charcoal-grilled ribeye with vegetables and a sticky rice waffle is a must, even if it means giving the popular lamb massaman curry a miss.

Kaenkrung comfortably seats 16 on the ground floor, while upstairs is reserved for private bookings, collaborations with guest chefs and other special events. “Isan culture is all about coming together,” says Cheewinsiriwat, who splits his time between his kitchens in Khon Kaen and Bangkok. As appreciation for Isan cuisine grows, a trip to Thailand’s little-known northeast might even be on next year’s wishlist.
+ 66 87 324 4619

5.
La Mission
Île d’Yeu

Île d’Yeu, a rugged Atlantic island off the coast of Vendée in France, offers plenty of options for holidaymakers during the summer but boltholes that stay open beyond the peak months are harder to find. “We love how the island evolves across the seasons and want to share that with our guests,” says Michel Delloye, co-founder of Hôteliers Impertinents. That’s why the group designed its newest opening, La Mission, to be one of the island’s few year-round destinations.

Located in the main village of Saint-Saveur, the property is as much a gathering place for islanders as a hotel. With a calendar of seasonal activities, from raclette dinners in the winter to pétanque competitions in the summer, the founders’ aim was to give a piece of local heritage back to the community.

La Mission is set in one of the île’s most storied locations. Its main building dates back to the 19th century, when it was constructed under Napoléon iii as military barracks; it was later transformed into a school and a parish hall. “Some locals still have memories of going to school here,” says Delloye. “Others come in to reminisce about family gatherings at the hall.”

When it came to creating the hotel’s warm, convivial interiors, designer Pauline d’Hoop was mindful of staying true to the essence of the place. The 22 guest rooms and suites are decorated in the typical island style, featuring white wood-panelled walls, rattan furniture and splashes of colour. It’s the perfect retreat after a blustery island walk.
lamissionyeu.com

6.
Somewhere Lombok
Lombok

The island of Lombok, just east of the more developed Bali, remains unjustly overlooked. Its beaches, paddy fields and forested slopes easily rival those of its better-known neighbour and there are fewer people to elbow out of the way to see them. With 20 standalone villas, a restaurant and bar, a spa and an infinity pool overlooking the ocean, Somewhere Lombok is the place from which to explore the island.

The villas are scattered across a cascading hill, allowing them valley views; each has its own terrace and private plunge pool. The open-air restaurant offers a mix of Indonesian and Western fare and features fresh seafood. “We wanted people to feel at one with nature, rather than being boxed in,” says Claire Gontard, who co-founded Somewhere Lombok with her sister, Valia. “We are lucky to have unobstructed views of the entire bay.”
somewherelombok.com

7.
Clemente Bar
New York

Swiss chef Daniel Humm and Italian artist Francesco Clemente bonded over a shared love of New York, art and hospitality before opening their homage to all three, Clemente Bar, in October. The moody space – all wood panelling, wall sconces and striped banquettes – sits above Humm’s plant-based restaurant Eleven Madison Park. Its interiors come courtesy of Brad Cloepfil of Allied Works, with lighting by German artist Carsten Höller and furniture from Los Angeles-based designer Brett Robinson. The drinks menu is long and lively (be sure to sample the smooth, saffron-infused Clemente martini), while The Studio, a nine-seat counter, is available for 90-minute tasting menus.

The drinks offering, overseen by Sebastian Tollius, and the chef’s counter are the main draws. The presence of Clemente’s custom-made neo-expressionist, ochre-hued friezes and evocative canvases, however, is the extra ingredient that nudges the bar from simply being notable to being a distinctive pleasure that should last the test of time. It’s amazing what a lick of paint can do.
clementebar.com

8.
Super Kiosk
Cambridge, New Zealand

Tom Sykes was the head of digital brand strategy for the King James Group advertising agency in Cape Town when he started drafting plans to start something of his own. Having spent his career positioning big brands, he began wondering what it might be like to start something fresh after moving to New Zealand in 2018. “I had no clue what to do, never mind how to run my own business or what it would even be,” he tells Monocle. “I started thinking about what I loved and what I hated. I love things that are elegant and enduring. So: stationery.”

This was the genesis of Super Kiosk, Sykes’s shop in Cambridge, a town about 150km south of Auckland. Today, wooden shelves are stacked high with well-made wonders and tidy tools from Australia, Japan, Germany and the US, including Delfonics ballpoint pens, steel Penco tape dispensers and notebooks from Any Day Now.

“It would have been much easier if I was a fifth-generation stationer and all of this was written in the stars,” adds Sykes, amused by the success of his just-so-branded business. “But that’s not my story. This is my story.” And a rather touching tale it is too.
superkiosk.online

9.
Ace Hotel & Swim Club
Athens

Ace Hotel has marked its return to Europe with Ace Hotel & Swim Club on the Athens Riviera. “This city is a perfect location, with its juxtaposition of ancient and contemporary influences,” says the company’s CEO, Brad Wilson. “Glyfada specifically is undergoing a renaissance, with a vibrant creative scene and exciting new developments.”

The 1970s building was reimagined by French firm Ciguë, with the support of Athens-based Georges Batzios Architects, to capture the breezy spirit of a modernist seaside resort. The pool area features green loungers and butter-and-cream-coloured umbrellas. Earthy-toned furnishings and natural materials sit inside with pieces by design icons such as Carlo Scarpa and Harvey Guzzini, selected by the owners of Athens-based vintage furniture shop Back to the Future. Works by emerging and established Greek artists were selected by Diplomates Studio’s founder, Matthieu Prat, and Aliki Lampropoulos, an advisor to the director of the Acropolis Museum. “A small gallery space at the hotel will feature rotating exhibitions,” says Wilson. “We’re focusing on work from collaborators and friends in the Athenian community.”

Sebastian restaurant serves modern Mediterranean fare. Try the Kástra Elión vodka, distilled from olives, for a fitting start to the weekend – then a few other options at The Lobby bar. The stools look sturdy enough.
acehotel.com

10.
Island Shangri-La
Hong Kong

Hong Kong’s Island Shangri-La hotel unveiled its revamped Shangri-La Suite in 2024. This 222 sq m home from home – the latest step in the 544-key hotel’s lengthy renovation – comes with his and her dressing rooms, a generous lounge, a 10-seater dining table, a kitchen, a wine cellar and a freestanding bar. Kuok Hui-kwong, the executive director and chairwoman of Shangri-La Group, had a hand in the design, elevating French designer Tristan Auer’s vision with Chinese opulence and a few deft touches. The hand-painted murals and oversized marble bathtub overlooking Victoria Harbour provide a sense of permanence (not to mention a great soak).

But in Hong Kong, even the most luxurious of spaces must have flexibility built in. Guests can use one of the two bedrooms as a gym, yoga room or office; larger parties can add an adjoining room. The tropical wallpaper in the private dining area can even be covered for brand events or board meetings. As hoteliers across Asia talk about the rise of multi-generational travel and its effect on hotel design, the Shangri-La Suite shows what flexibility can mean on a new level. Now, do you mind? That bathtub is beckoning.
shangri-la.com

11.
Fuglen
Seoul

Oslo coffee shop Fuglen, whose name means “bird” in Norwegian, opened its first overseas outpost in Tokyo in 2012. Given its success, the brand was bound to expand to new shores in Asia at some point. First up is Seoul’s fashionable Sangsu district. Fuglen’s now signature design is in place – vintage furniture, modern reproductions of mid-century Nordic pieces (another part of the Fuglen business) and straw wallpaper from Biri in Norway.

Staff from Fuglen Japan pitched in to help and hundreds of people turned up on the opening day. The company’s CEO, Einar Kleppe Holthe, is a former barista champion and one of the co-founders who took over the original 1963 Fuglen café in Oslo. He says he has been fielding offers from across the world. “Seoul was natural as there has been so much interest from South Korea.”
fuglen.no

12.
Sea Sea Hotel
Crescent Head

Sea Sea Hotel is tucked away on a quiet street in Crescent Head, a seaside town about halfway between Sydney and Byron Bay. The 25-room hotel opened in November 2024 as the newest venture from hotelier George Gorrow, formerly of The Slow in Bali. It’s just a few minutes’ walk from two pristine beaches that stretch either side of the town, affording sandy expanses for sunbathers and ideal point breaks for surfers.

Gorrow decided to open Sea Sea after stumbling across what was then a run-down hotel property from the 1980s, featuring cabins that reminded him of Balinese villas. Gorrow kept the original structures but expanded the pool. He gave the rooms a modern cabin-in-the-woods look, with timber-clad walls. He also added sleek furniture, gauzy curtains and contemporary art. A restaurant serves local seafood and natural wine, and there’s a surf shop, a music lounge and an events space. Guests can rent boards and book surfing lessons at the hotel.

“I grew up on the beach and my dad was a big surfer,” says Gorrow. “This was always one of the spots that we used to pop into on our trips. It’s a cute town with amazing beaches. It still feels pretty untouched.”
seaseahotel.com

13.
Travelling companions

At Monocle, we know that packing for a trip is about more than merely selecting the appropriate wardrobe. Depending on the destination and your means of travel, different accoutrements become necessary. One item that is indispensable no matter where you’re heading is a camera. We’re fond of the Lomo’Instant Wide Boston by Lomography. The Vienna-based company produced this instant camera with lens attachments so that users can have the flexibility offered by smartphones and digital cameras while also shooting on instant film.

To set the tone on the road, we’re pumping up the volume with Mania by Devialet. The French brand’s first portable speaker combines hi-tech audio with an elegant design. Its spherical form is wrapped in a hardy woven fabric that protects the speaker.

Staying hydrated is essential while travelling too, so pack a cooler. We love the Camping Bucket by Niwaki. This waterproof bag can be folded flat for easy storage and then opened when needed. We’re filling ours with Strong Blonde Golden Ale by La Chouffe, the Belgian brewery whose bottles and graphic design are as tasty as its beverages.

14.
The Manner
New York

The interiors of mid-century Italy were unapologetically grand, intricate and brimming with bravura – a world away from what you’ll find at most modern hotel makeovers in the US. A notable exception is The Manner in New York, the latest addition to The Standard International family. When the group’s chief design officer, Verena Haller, set out to find someone to reimagine the property, she enlisted Milan-based Hannes Peer, renowned for his sumptuous residential projects that epitomise Italian grandezza. This establishment, set on Soho’s Thompson Street, eschews the standard, chunky check-in desk in favour of a striking tableau of marble, brass, leather and terracotta, channelling Milan’s most opulent entryways.

Ascending a travertine staircase, guests are greeted by The Apartment, a living-room-style retreat with a cinematic feel, Pompeian red walls, a mahogany divider and handcrafted ceramic columns by sculptor Ben Medansky. This decadence extends to The Manner’s 97 guest rooms (including 10 suites and one penthouse), where every detail is a tribute to Italianate splendour. Lipstick-red lacquered headboards, floor-to-ceiling mirrors and glossy dark-wood veneers amplify every room’s inherent drama.

Dining is equally indulgent. The Otter, The Manner’s seafood-focused restaurant, offers dishes ranging from classic shrimp cocktails to a more modern swordfish steak frites. Sloane’s, a discreet speakeasy, serves vintage spirits in a setting that is as refined as its menu. And come spring, a rooftop space will make its debut. You know where to find us.
themanner.com

15.
Die Cafetière
Vienna

German-born Peggy Strobel spent many years in the Netherlands before moving to Vienna in 2007. There she managed Mraz & Sohn, the Michelin-starred restaurant of her husband, Markus Mraz, then stepped back to start a family. Harbouring an ambition to open a place of her own, she took a hospitality course in Innsbruck. After the coronavirus lockdowns, a friend told her that the Naber Café in the first district, run by the family-owned Naber Roastery, was looking for a new owner. Strobel didn’t think twice.

Strobel has preserved the décor from the 1960s, an era when many espresso joints of this kind sprang up across Vienna. The back of the building now doubles as a showroom for Percy Thonet, scion of the chair-making Thonet family, and Anna Prinzhorn, the creative force behind furniture brand One for Hundred. Alongside pastries, Die Cafetière serves ham-and-cheese toasties called Karl-Heinz, named after Strobel’s late father-in-law who, says Strobel, made them best. “My motto is ‘With and without tradition’,” she says. There’s a stimulating thought to round-out our Wishlist – not all hospitality highpoints involve completely changing the recipe and starting from scratch.
diecafetiere.wien

Passing through Nairobi? Make this retreat your new base camp

As well as a thriving capital, Nairobi is a layover city for those on the way to Lamu Island or the plains of Masai Mara. Travellers zipping in and out often find themselves with lengthy layovers: domestic and international flights aren’t always well timed and the two airports – Jomo Kenyatta and Wilson – are a 30-minute drive from each other, making for tense stopovers.

To buy time, some travellers book into generic airport hotels. But those in the know opt for The Retreat, a collection of day rooms at Giraffe Manor. The hotel is located in the leafy suburb of Langata and known, as the name suggests, for its wildlife. Here, layovers can be maximised and enjoyed rather than endured.

The Retreat was created specifically for those who have a couple of hours to kill between flights. Upstairs, a collection of suites overlooks the gardens. Travellers can take a nap or spend time in the communal areas; swimming in the pool, lounging around the fireplace or eating at the hotel restaurant, Daisy’s. The spa is probably the biggest pre- and post-flight draw, with a sauna, steam room and gym, as well as treatments for tight neck muscles and dry skin.

After checking in and freshening up, there are ample ways to maximise a layover and whittle away the hours in Kenya’s capital, a buzzing metropolis worth exploring in its own right. The city’s art scene is booming thanks to the Nairobi Contemporary Art Institute highlighting the work of East African artists. Gallery hopping and long meals at restaurants such as the highly recommended Cultiva are best enjoyed once you’ve scrubbed up post long-haul flight.

For those passing through Nairobi, finding the right base camp from which to recharge can set the tone of a trip. Perhaps in-between hotels would work elsewhere too.
thesafaricollection.com

A sleep expert’s top three tips for beating jet lag

For all those caught up in the excitement of booking a long-haul flight and jetting off to an exciting new destination, there is one main downside: jet lag. It’s a challenge that neuropsychiatrist Irshaad Ebrahim advises on. After founding the London Sleep Centre in 2002, he set up several other such institutions across the world, including The Constantia Sleep Centre in South Africa. Here, he gets us up to speed on beating jet lag.

Pre-flight
“Before you even get on the plane, you need to have established good sleep-hygiene routine,” says Ebrahim. “This will immediately help to offset any effects of jet lag.” Exercising regularly and drinking plenty of water are among his top recommendations. Other tips shared by medical professionals include resisting the temptation to nap throughout the day and investigating your clock gene (a protein-coding gene that plays a central role in regulating circadian rhythms) through lab tests if you suffer from daytime drowsiness or regularly wake up in the night. The most indulgent recommendation of all? Ensure that your bedroom is a sanctuary. Pile up a stack of escapist titles, play some relaxing tunes and or put on that cucumber facemask. It’s all about maintaining a bedtime routine before your flight, says Ebrahim.

On board
“Once you’re on the aircraft, there is one trump card that you must play,” says Ebrahim. “Clock into your destination the moment you get on the plane. Check the season and time difference beforehand. When you’re on the aircraft, you should switch to the timings of the country that you’re travelling to. Fall asleep when people there are going to bed and wake up when they are waking. This allows you to prepare psychologically and behaviourally for landing in a new place.” It also prevents you from falling asleep unexpectedly upon arrival. So pull down your window, insert your earplugs and put on your eye mask. This should all lead to a restful sleep.

On arrival
“Taking a melatonin supplement is a useful aid in combatting jet lag,” says Ebrahim. The hormone is produced in the brain in response to darkness and helps with the timing of your circadian rhythms. “The key to this is taking it about an hour before sleep once you land. Continue taking it for three days after arriving and repeat for another three days when you return from your trip.” The doctor is also keen to stress that exposure to the right type of light is essential. “There is a lot to be said for light therapy,” he says, explaining that an exposure to special bright-white light bulbs that emit 10,000 lux (an amount similar to the light in the sky just after dawn) can be beneficial to sleep. “Buy a portable light-therapy lamp and switch it on 30 minutes after waking up. It helps to suppress melatonin and gives your brain the impression that a new day is starting.”

The only clothes you need for a short-haul sojourn 

Take elegance with you
The weekend wonder

Suitcase by Rimowa, travel bag by Felisi from Trunk

Make a case for style
The ideal short-haul pack

Brave the elements
The all-important layers

sweatshirt and beanie by Drei Berge from A Young Hiker

Keep in step with comfort
The goody two-shoes

boots by South2 West8 x Danner, shoes by Visvim from Mytheresa

Strut the streets
Head-to-toe neutrals

Go casual
The full monty