Sin City to SLIM CITY: From volcanic hot springs and kayaking to soothing spa treatments. Marseille's makeover: The gritty French city has been spruced up - and is becoming a culinary hotspotīeauty in the east: Bulgaria is known as a destination that's a bargain, but these 19 pictures show that it's also breathtaking to behold Millions of Americans may have mourned the death of their president, but only two children mourned the death of their dad.įrom giant trees to family-friendly swimming pools: The joys of Robin Hood's historic hideout - Sherwood Forest I feel a sudden stab of pity for Kennedy – and also for his kids. Just before he was assassinated in Dallas.” ‘As a matter of fact,’ says Larry ‘he spent his last weekend down here in Palm Beach. They must’ve been doing eighty miles an hour. ‘I remember once when I was just out of college, they closed up the roads and he came tearing through town with his motorcade. JFK would come down here twice a year with the whole family.’ ‘See that?’ he says, pointing to a creamy white mansion house by the water. When the dolphins have disappeared into the deep, Larry fills us in on some local history. 'They’re a little late,' says Larry, our captain for the day. And as if on cue, a group of five or six dolphins pop up from the waves directly in front of us. The kids are overjoyed - it’s their first time on a boat. It’s fantastic) we take a short drive to the marina for a dolphin-spotting trip on a catamaran. After a stop-off at the Loggerhead Marinelife Center (Danielle was right. The following morning, the four of us manage to tear ourselves away from the beach for a few hours to explore the local area. On the money: Palm Beach exudes an affluent vibe, with sports cars and palatial homes ‘Those hedge fund guys keep coming down here,’ he offers, and returns to his smoked salmon without further comment. He seems somewhat placated and very nearly smiles at me. ‘You’re not in Wall Street, right?’ Bill asks, suddenly suspicious. We make small talk for a while as they settle down at the bar to eat dinner. ‘Your boys will love it!’ĭanielle introduces us to her husband, Bill, an eyewear mogul from Minnesota. ‘You must visit the sanctuary,’ she insists. She introduces herself as Danielle and begins to talk animatedly about turtles. We are on the verge of giving up when a smiley lady approaches us. It feels like a Beverly Hills retirement home. In the corner, a pianist is murdering Whitney Houston (not literally), while the immaculately dressed clientele sits in virtual silence. It’s a beautiful, balmy evening, and we take a stroll through the wide streets, wandering into a restaurant-bar called Café L’Europe. ![]() Presumably the real parties happen behind the high walls of celebrity mansions, because the place is dead by 10pm. I wonder if Trump is familiar with Groucho Marx’s old adage: 'I don’t care to belong to any club that would have me as a member.'Ī magnet for celebrities through the ages: Former American president John F Kennedy (left) used to bring his young family to Palm Beach for holidays John Lennon and Yoko Ono (right) also had a holiday home in the areaĪrriving in the centre of town, we feast on fire-roasted pizza at the posh but relaxed Buccan, then head out onto the street in search of adventure. We take a taxi along eight miles of winding coastal road, spotting John Lennon’s ex-pad and Donald Trump’s private club along the way. And as my wife and I head out of the door later that evening, they seem positively delighted to see the back of us. The boys fall instantly in love with our 19-year-old babysitter Lisa. To top it all, there is hot and cold running childcare. There is a wonderful, lolling rhythm to it all, and as smiling hostesses unfurl umbrellas and serve ice-cold lemonade to our ocean-view table, I feel no pain. We spend hours switching from ocean to pool, then pool to ocean. My shoulders drop about three inches from their default, hunched-up, hassled parent position, and any trace of angst seems to wash away in the broad, clean waves of the Atlantic. The sky is perfect, the sand is perfect, the temperature of the sea, perfect. It is as though all this white sand were a drug entering my system through the pores of my pallid, city-dweller's skin. ![]() On our first morning, I am gripped with a giddy euphoria. Still, there really is no arguing with the beauty of the hotel’s private beach. Palm Beach is one of the richest towns in the United States, which goes some way to explaining why the guests at our hotel (we’re staying at The Four Seasons) don’t seem in the slightest bit phased by the $25 (£15) cost of the cocktails. A place for relaxation: Palm Beach offers white sands and sunshine 70 miles north of Miami
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