Start with a pristine, mile-long stretch of beach – the sort one does not find very often in the Med these days. Then build an artful village around it, one of sleek whitewashed villas with flat screen TVs, massive showers and blue-chip Italian furniture. Layer on a gigantic, but serene, spa with hamman, indoor-outdoor thalassotherapy, rows of techno-gym equipment, three immaculate golf courses and two tiered swimming-pool. Finish with energetic staff (who teach pottery and put on impromptu plays) in the teens club and friendly therapists who work small miracles on sore bodies and tired complexions, with cold-pressed herb extracts, lemon and olive oil. And there you have it: Rocco Forte’s newest and most delicious venture, set on a rugged, pine scented island, delivering the perfect storm of everything you need to keep the whole family happy. Hell, they’ve even arranged for there to be inky-blue waters and an unfailing sea breeze, all bathed continuously in a golden ethereal light.

Discover cheekbones you never knew you had. Henri Chenot reigns supreme as the king of Italian detoxing - and this 1906 palace hotel is the hub of his happening health empire. It’s all about glamorous deprivation. Clinic will probably be checking out as you check in. Spend the week eating minuscule portions of fresh fruits, delicate vegetarians salads and depressing broths, while pottering from one rather nerve-raking appointment to the next. Chenot’s fleet of doctors really put you through it: blood tests, vitamin drips, bone-density X-rays, the truth about how stressed you are – the diagnostics are staggering. But you’ll swiftly slip into a pampering daily regime of herbal baths, mud wraps and painful cupping massages. You’ll plug enough cider-vinegar water to dissolve; You’ll take laxatives from silver salvers; you’ll sob hunger, but you’ll lose quantities of weight. And bizarrely, you’ll be rebooking at the end- the rise in energy levels is meteoric.