You know that feeling when you’re halfway through winter, wrapped in a blanket, Googling “sunny places to escape the UK”? That’s how I ended up at the Four Seasons Sharm El Sheikh — and let me tell you, it’s the kind of place that doesn’t just meet your expectations; it kidnaps them, takes them to a private beach, and plies them with cocktails until they’re blissfully unrecognisable.
My three-night stay was the perfect reminder of how good life can be when you’re deciding between four pools instead of four layers of clothing. From the moment I stepped off a mercifully short airport transfer, I was swept into a world of terracotta rooftops, jasmine-scented air, and views so cinematic they could double as a Bond villain’s lair.
