Firmly established as a European capital of style, Madrid can boast flagship stores of some of the most desirable international and Spanish brands

Like many women, I do like to buy pretty new things. However, the pleasure of shopping for me has been somewhat marred in recent years by the time constraints of working motherhood. I need time to browse the shops, try things on, dither, change my mind a lot and then go back to buy the first thing I liked - and there’s always an office to get back to or a toddler getting bored.

My advice to women in a similar position is to get away, far away, to a place where you can indulge in retail therapy at a relaxing pace. I have always enjoyed the Spanish shopping scene – laid back, long days and a creative industry producing an abundance of choice – yet I had never been to legendary shopper’s heaven Madrid.

Join us on a whistlestop tour of northwest Spain, and discover a land of dramatic coastlines, green fields and pilgrims

My partner Charles and I had long wanted to explore Green Spain: the north and west coasts facing the Atlantic. This northern coast is called Green Spain because rain from the Atlantic creates a landscape of meadows and forests, with small farms and cows grazing. It's also green in the environmental sense with many protected natural areas, saving dunes, forests and coasts from development. I hadn't been there since a gap-year wander long ago in the era of Franco, when I landed in Bilbao with a boyfriend and a rucksack. Back then, we took a train to Madrid to visit the Prado and travel to the Mediterranean coast.

In a sheltered, secret part of the Spanish coastline sits the Costa Tropical, undiscovered, authentically Andalucían and fanned by warm breezes from Morocco

Only yesterday, the weatherman had warned of high winds followed by snow, yet here we were in a sunny glade in the middle of a tropical fruit orchard, watching a giant butterfly flitting between exotic trees. A few minutes earlier, while we were meandering between the low-slung dark green boughs of the cherimoya trees, a flutter of wings accompanied by a flash of bright green had broken the tranquillity as a startled wild parakeet took to the air.

It was not even noon and only just late January, but the thermometer was already nudging into the low twenties. Yet this was not the Tropics. Due south of Granada, and only an hour from the city’s small airport, the Costa Tropical is an unique part of Spain, visited by few British holidaymakers, which some consider to be the last authentic part of the Andalucían coastline.
The peculiar microclimate of this short stretch of coast, which lies between the busy Costa del Sol and the Costa de Almeria, is officially classed as subtropical. Protected to the north-west and north-east by towering sierras, formed when the continental land masses of Europe and Africa collided, the rough horseshoe of coastline between La Herradura and Motril is fanned by warm and moist breezes from Morocco, just one hundred miles to the south.

Get caught up in Madrid’s heady mix of food, tradition, sightseeing and fun on a wild weekend in the capital

The first thing you should do when you arrive in Madrid is take a good, long look at your hotel room, because in this 24-hour city, you’re unlikely to see it again for any length of time. Madrid never closes. There is always something to do and somewhere to see (or be seen). But unlike its more popular rival city Barcelona, you’ll never feel rushed, pushed or crushed. There’s always room for one more to join in the fun.

Visit Pontevedra and discover history in a city of cool colonnades, fresh produce and lively squares.

The squares and granite-paved alleyways of the old city of Pontevedra basked in the September afternoon sun. Cafe tables were almost deserted as we settled down for coffee and relaxed from our day's exploration, as the shadows gradually lengthened in the Praza de Curros Enriquez. Suddenly there was a trundle of wheels and a double pushchair bearing two immaculately turned out toddlers passed us by, their mother heading into the square. From another direction came a group of young teenagers, eating ice creams and chattering excitedly. Within minutes the Praza filled with animated conversation. Family groups of two or more generations settled at tables, waitresses took orders, mothers met up and small children played around the statue and the water fountain. By five thirty the whole town had come to life, its inhabitants emerging from their homes to chat, eat, drink, see and be seen.