hen people learn that I’m a travel writer, I’m invariably asked which is the “best” hotel I’ve ever stayed at, or to name my “favourite” destination. These are impossible questions to answer, because I am too wildly passionate a lover of food and travel to confine my affection to one place. When you truly adore something, be it soul music, Italian food, vintage cars or your own family, it seems downright crass to introduce the sort of bureaucratic ranking system required
