My Italian fandango

I had come to the island of Ischia for the mud, which, I know, doesn't sound all that glamorous. It did seem a little odd to be going all the way to Italy for what amounts to wet dirt when I had a perfectly good supply of it at home. But that misses the point: for this was volcanic and healing mud, which, crucially, can be found only at a luxury hotel spa called Regina Isabella. Still, in my mind it was hard to link the words "luxury" and "mud". I knew it was possible, but it didn't seem probable. I could not shake the idea that there would be pools of bubbling sulphurous gloop (I have seen them at Yellowstone National Park and so it's not so fantastic). I also imagined large ferns and, possibly, a dinosaur standing by the side. This image was illogical but, like those songs that won't leave your head, hard to remove, even as I arrived at Regina Isabella. I really didn't know what to expect.It was a five-star hotel but, to be honest, I have found that the only stars that are guaranteed to provide peace and beauty are those that sparkle in the night sky. Some of the allegedly best hotels in the world are, when you get to them, not very special at all. But Regina Isabella is. I arrived hot and bothered (a more or less natural state for me), off the boat from Naples. Luxury is something you feel rather than see, but it is hard to feel anything when you are simmering. But the moment I walked into the marbled foyer that changed. The atmosphere was as soothing as silk. The staff wafted around; their only concern was my welfare. I suspect this is how movie stars feel. Isabella Regina is no stranger to such types (it was their haunt in the Fifties and The Talented Mr. Ripley was filmed here). But what was impressive is that the staff treat everyone that way. Thus began a feeling, which stayed with me until I left, that I might actually be in a movie. I could not help but feel that the location scout had done a good job. The hotel is on the edge of a small village called Lacco Ameno. Behind us was the vertiginous Mount Eporneo. Before us the Mediterranean. But around me, at the hotel, was pure understated Italian style: high ceilings; beautiful tiles; chandeliers like diamonds. My room was the epitome of elegance. I do not relax easily but I could see that I might have to make an exception here. The Greeks were the first to find Ischia and its thermal waters. This, then, is the real deal. The therme (spa) is impressive, if a bit clinical. It is tiled, spotless, calming and no-nonsense. It ranges over two floors and is divided into two areas: thermal and dermatological. In Italy thermal medicine is a recognized speciality and you will be seen by a doctor before a treatment. In my case this was the medical director Paolo Magrassi, whom I compliment over how everything runs like clockwork. "There are many people with yachts who come here," he notes. "They are used to the very best and they expect it here."I mull this over. I often expect the very best but rarely receive it. Now I knew my error: I made a mental note to acquire a yacht, pronto. It was hard to fit in the mud, what with the private beach, lunch, swimming in the sea and that exhausting trip from poolside to sun lounger (arranged with artistic flair by the extremely handsome pool attendant). Still, needs must and I headed off to the spa for some anti-ageing facial treatments. They offer many here, from peels to skin balancing. I had something called picotage. This involves having tiny painless injections all over the face to hydrate it. It may sound crazy but for days afterwards my skin did glow. I also had a facial with mud which, I discovered, is called "fango" in Italian. Fango? Can there be a more inelegant word? It didn't help that, later, when I had my body treatment, my mud lady kept saying "Fango! Fango!" (which I kept hearing as "fandango!"). Much to my amazement, the mud was not bubbling in a pool but arrived via a giant tap in the wall. I lay down in the steaming mass of grey mud and felt, to be honest, rather weird. I began to sweat; I was hot, but not bothered. The mud was washed off and I luxuriated in a thermal water whirlpool. I have to tell you that I was enjoying myself. The fango, against all odds, proved to be fantastic.

La Dolce Vita

Ischia here we come!

But where are we staying, all 11 of US? One Sunday afternoon Janice and I were actually sitting at her computer looking at some web sites for places to stay, when we found the most amazing place.

Villa Beatrice 6 bedrooms, 5 baths, sleeps 11. Constructed in the traditional Mediterranean style with thick stone walls and red terracotta tiled roof. The Villa combines the beauty of antiquity with modern convenience. It was uniquely built into the side of a hill, so that all three floors have access to sun drenched terraces, shaded areas, and the surrounding land. The 4,500-square-meter gardens afford privacy, freedom of movement and views of the Mediterranean.

Why am I going to Ischia?

My trip to Ischia came about because my friend Janice decided she was going to do something BIG for her birthday... So the thought of having her friends celebrating with her in another country was "something BIG "…. At first she wanted to go to New Zealand….then Australia. “Ok Janice reality check; need to pick a place your friends will follow” and so she did. Italy it was. Janice has been to Italy before.. her great grandparents were born in Italy. Research started on where to stay in Italy,..the island of Ischia came up. It seemed like paradise….Sun, ocean, hot springs, spas, good food, and even some famous Hollywood stories. Ischia here we come

What next? Where would we stay in Ischia?