My favourite place

Sophie Dahl’s guide to the Seychelles

Author Sophie Dahl on the Seychelles

The author fantasises about pirates’ treasure, giant tortoises and jumping in the waves of the Indian Ocean archipelago

My grandmother Violet lived on the Sussex coast, and I spent many childhood holidays with her on freezing shingle beaches, doused in stories and purple with cold. She embodied a postwar stoicism, swimming in the sea from March through to November and laughing at the ‘briskness’, marcelled curls and coral nails immaculate. We changed in a stripy beach hut and well into adolescence, I thought your lips were meant to be blue after a swim.

I remain devoted to Britain’s coastline, but during unrelenting winters, I long for the far away: to be warmed through by the sun, watching my children jump waves, freckle-covered and wild. By February, it becomes a sort of obsession. Our pet tortoise sleeps through the winter, and I envy him. By the end, I am merely tolerating it: a grumpy, vitamin-dstarved, unhibernated bear.

That’s when I fantasise about the Seychelles. I start to smell it, imagine the taste of it. I first went there as a teenager; this curious archipelago of more than 100, mostly uninhabited, rum-soaked islands in the Indian Ocean, north-east of Madagascar, heady with vanilla, jungle and raw gasoline. I was in thrall to Creole music, the warmth of the people, to the landscape so green and yet so other. I returned a few years later with my brother Luke in tow, on a trip to celebrate his 18th birthday, which we ushered in on La Digue Island, drinking the local beer on Anse Source d’argent beach, marvelling as dolphins streaked

through the bay. The hotel that we stayed in has become a thing of elusive myth, as neither of us can remember the name of it. We instead send each other links to other hotels (‘Was it this one?’ ‘No.’ Sad face), relegating it to a snapshot in time.

The hotel dream lives on though, in the Four Seasons in Petite Anse, which is one of my favourite places in the world. Bliss for families (go to the one in Desroches if you’re a couple looking for romantic isolation), generous villas spread round an enchanting bay, with waves that are perfect for children to swim and surf in. Play pétanque as the sun sets, and eat local spiced fish from Kannel, the beachside restaurant. Your kids may never want to see you again, as there is sushi making, snorkelling, nature walks and art classes on offer for them. Bribe them back with stargazing and a midnight swim (each villa has its own pool).

You can have a massage in the hillside spa overlooking a small cluster of uninhabited islands further along the bay, dreaming of what you’ll eat for dinner. (Hopefully a coconut fish curry.)

Pirates buried their treasure in Petite Anse, a cunning excuse, no doubt, to return to the clear waters, granite rocks and expansive skies. I thought of them recently, while watching my family splash through the waves, knowing we were to return to sodden February-england, now sweetened by a dose of welcome sun. The tortoise and I have greeted March head-on, full of the joys of spring.

Sophie’s latest book, Madame Badobedah, with illustrations by Lauren O’hara (Walker Books, £12.99), is out now. Order at books.telegraph.co.uk

Dive in: clear waters, coconut trees and blue sky for miles in the Seychelles; Dahl on the beach; at the Tortoise Sanctuary