
Imagine a sort of Beaujolais Run – but with birds.
Continue readingIt’s increasingly fashionable to hunt down your own ingredients, but as Adam Hay-Nicholls discovers in Thailand, foraging needed come at the expense of comfort. Continue reading
In darkest Exmoor, Adam Hay-Nicholls finds a pimped, £210,000 SUV to be the perfect ice-breaker with a publican yet to embrace electricity.
I’m bombing across the chartreuse-coloured hills behind East Devon’s Jurassic Coast. My destination is the dining table of top chef Michael Caines and, as I like to match my vehicles with whatever’s in store for the knife and fork, I have chosen the Range Rover Velar for the journey: A luxurious status symbol steeped in country cred, but one which is silkily contemporary and reductionist from every angle.
It’s fitting that a whiff of cordite has settled around the BMW M4. This car is a weapon; a stealthy Bavarian bullet, with an especially menacing air when there’s a smoking shotgun in the boot.
Velaa Private Island, in the Maldives, is a resort for billionaires by billionaires. Where else, in addition to the standard private pool and butler, does the hotel provide a personal submarine? Welcome to the real James Bond island.
As I thunder north up the M6, I am fulfilling a mission 30 years in the making. I’m at the wheel of a Jag and the destination is Uncle Monty’s cottage. I am re-enacting Withnail & I. Continue reading
Adam Hay-Nicholls tackles Scotland’s NC500, one of the world’s most amazing circuits, in the Maserati Levante.
Luxury boutique hotels are celebrating Mexico’s artistic heritage and architectural prowess, writes Adam Hay-Nicholls.
Driving onto a frozen lake with traction and stability control switched off, I’m starting to regret the 20-course meal of pig’s head, decomposing leaves and bird’s liver custard that’s in my belly. But that’s the price you pay for experiencing the finest and wildest that Sweden has to offer.
A trip to Tuscany in a Prancing Horse shows Ferrari still evokes an almost spiritual passion in its homeland, writes Adam Hay-Nicholls. Continue reading
I got a few weird looks as I unloaded my soiled wellies from the back of a Maserati as I checked into Monaco’s elegant Hermitage Hotel. Where on earth had I been, the valet must have thought.
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Foreboding skies, bracing wind and incessant rain set the scene for my drive along the Normandy coast, but the rolling of thunder you hear is the gargle of my Bentley Mulsanne Speed. Continue reading