Discovering

This Alpine gem of Annecy has become increasingly popular with Brits over the last few years, coming to ski in winter, have fun on the lake, and soak up its European elegance and history in the warmer months

It’s been dubbed ‘the Venice of the Alps’ and is home to Europe’s cleanest freshwater lake. And the French town of Annecy definitely lives up to the hype.

This Alpine gem has become increasingly popular with Brits over the last few years, coming to ski in winter, have fun on the lake, and soak up its European elegance and history in the warmer months.

It’s easy to see why it’s such a hit. With its charming medieval old town, amazing food culture (it’s home to eight Michelin-starred restaurants), brilliant sports facilities, and great transport links (Geneva Airport is 40–60 minutes away, Lyon just over an hour), Annecy really does have it all.

Here’s our guide to 24 hours in and around the famous lake.

READ MORE: ‘This mad holiday activity combines near-death experiences with cheese and wine’READ MORE: Breathtaking French city that’s a dupe for Venice but without all the crowds

Try your hand at water sports

Lake Annecy really is the jewel in the crown of this gorgeous region. Framed by snow-frosted mountains and with sparkling aquamarine waters and accessible beaches, it’s a magnet for visitors and locals alike. Officially the cleanest lake in Europe, it’s large enough to accommodate lots of people without ever seeming crowded, and there are lots of water sports centres dotted around its edges.

We went to Doussard, a quieter corner of the lake, to try our hand at kayaking (safe and fun) and paddleboarding (also fun but harder than it looks). Parasailing and swimming – the water was a balmy 18 degrees when I visited – are other great options, and cyclists are well-catered for here, so hiring a bike and hitting some of the 40km of lakeside trails is a great way to enjoy the seemingly endless views. There are coffee huts providing refreshment stops along the trails – very civilised!

Chill like a local with a picnic in the lakeside park

Annecy is packed with great places to eat, but if you’re on a budget, a park picnic is a fab way to live like a local and soak up some rays. Residents flock to Les Marquisats, the beach closest to the old town, after work, so grab a bottle of rosé and join the party.

Saint Jorioz is another well-equipped option. With lots of shaded areas, a diving board, volleyball and pétanque courts, it’s perfect for families. It gets busy here in high summer, so head there early to avoid the crowds. There are plenty of beaches to choose from, so you won’t feel shortchanged.

Say Je T’Aime at the Pont des Amours

So it’s not an altogether original idea, but it is a cute one – and who can resist a romantic iron bridge, especially when it comes with killer views? The Pont des Amours has become a spot where lovers add their lock and these days, snap some Insta-perfect shots.

It’s a great spot for lake-gazing too. Legend has it that if you’re single, you’ll fall in love with the first person you see as you cross. You’ve been warned…

Embrace your inner foodie with artisan eats and Michelin-starred dining

The food is amazing here – with a strong emphasis on Alpine cuisine and cheese. But alongside traditional favourites like reblochon cheese (the best I’ve ever tasted), gratin, raclette, and croziflette, there are plenty of contemporary menus to choose from, and a new gourmet hall opens later this year.

If you’re feeling spenny, check out some of the town’s Michelin-starred establishments. For classic Annecy fare, Le Freti offers huge main dishes for less than 20 Euros, while La Cuillère à Omble is unbeatable for fresh seafood, veggie delights, and stunning lakeside vistas.

I tried local aperitif Génépi too. Made from a sage-like herb and 40% proof, it’s not for the faint-hearted but tasted fresh and sweet.

Sample the ice cream

This town loves its ice cream – and at last count, there were at least ten parlours to choose from. Most of the best places are in the old town; head to Rue Sainte-Claire, where Le Palais des Glaces, Chez Poustache, Glacier Perrière, or Glacier des Alpes all come highly recommended.

Or you can take your pick or buy from one of the many street vendors – lots of these have been plying their trade for generations. Top tip – keep an eye out for ice cream that looks too bright in colour; it’s probably had lots of artificial dyes added. Opt for paler versions to enjoy higher quality, artisan scoops.

Take to the boats

There are boats galore here, so it’s worth trying out at least one during your stay. Channel your inner James Bond or dial up the romance with a luxurious wooden gondola, charter a sailing boat, or just hire a pedalo for an hour.

To see the lake up close and find out more about the people who live and work on its shores, a guided boat ride is a must. Crossing the aquamarine water on a sunny day is an experience I’ll never forget – views to die for and lots of opportunities for bagging great souvenir photos.

The Compagnie des Bateaux d’Annecy offers an hour round trip for under 20 Euros – or upgrade to a restaurant experience for Euros 69.

Discover medieval and modern

Take a guided tour of Vieille Ville – the old town – and find out more about how the town was formed, its resistance role in World War II, and how modern residents live today.

If you’re on foot, head up one of the pretty, steep cobbled streets for a breathtaking 360° view of the town and lake and enjoy spotting the many carved trout figures added to churches and older buildings – a symbol of civic pride.

Convertible bus tours offer a more laid-back way to see the sights in style.

Book it

OVO Network offers seven nights at Chalet Bleu Infini in La Clusaz, in the Annecy Mountains region.

EXCLUSIVE: Six months ago, Mark Danby left the UK behind for the warmer climes of Spain, uprooting his life and switching for Manilva, but noticed a certain “contrast” between the two nations

A man has claimed Spain is “20 years or so behind the UK” in a specific aspect. Mark Danby from Stockport, Greater Manchester, decided to shake things up and moved to sunny Spain six months ago, making his new home in Manilva, part of Malaga on the Costa del Sol.

Enjoying his new life under the Spanish sun, Mark has encountered some hurdles, previously opening up about the challenges of the local visa system.

As an IT professional by day and the ‘Tapas Guy‘ on YouTube, he made his move via the digital nomad visa, aimed at those working remotely for companies overseas or as self-employed.

Despite the benefits, it seems that slow bureaucratic processes can be a universal headache, with Mark noting that “everything takes so long”. This may stem from a stark “contrast” between life in Spain compared to the UK.

Mark was struck by the “biggest culture shock” following his move abroad, which he shared in an online video. He pointed out how Spain appears to trail “about 20 years or so behind the UK” in terms of technology adoption.

He explained: “And I describe it as being Spain being about 20 years or so behind the UK in kind of technology. Everything takes so long. They don’t go for electronic systems. They like their pieces of paper; that is the biggest shock.

“They are paper pushers; they’re pen pushers. Everything is paper, like when you go for your…your sort of your visa applications or your… as I’m now waiting for my TIE card, which is my foreign residency card, everything is paper processed.”

Mark highlighted that he is in the throes of waiting for his card and revealed they’ve “already kind of accepted it”. He described the bureaucratic process where applicants must go to a police station to hand in paperwork and have their fingerprints taken, and the individual produces the card

He added with a hint of frustration: “If they had a little printer machine by them, they could just press a button and print it out, but oh no. You know, it has to go through the paper process and it has to..”

Mark elaborated on the nature of the procedure: “You know, it can take another…you have to sort of make another appointment to go back. Everything’s booked up solid and, you know, I’ve still not got it. Everything takes a long time, a very, very long time.”

A TIE card refers to a Spanish Foreign Identity Card (or tarjeta de identidad de extranjero in Spanish). It allows people to prove their legal status as a foreigner in Spain and is required by people with a visa that lets them stay for longer than six months.

Spain complies with Schengen zone rules, which stipulate particular passport criteria and allow individuals to roam freely across the zone visa-free for a maximum of 90 days within any 180-day timeframe.

For more Spanish travel advice, visit the GOV website here.

As with paint colours or lipstick shades, naming a mountain range requires serious consideration. It should suggest character, create intrigue, and kindle desire. Who doesn’t want to explore the Crazy Mountains of Montana, or make a fiery pact with California’s Diablo Range? While studying a map of Spain, my interest was piqued by a patch of grey and green emptiness bearing the enticing words: Sierra de la Demanda.

I’ve travelled all over Spain for work and play in the last two decades, but somehow these “demanding” mountains had eluded me. Located in the remote northern interior, halfway between Madrid and Santander, their isolation (and a dearth of English-language Google results) only added to the mystique. The Sierra de la Demanda covers a vast area across Spain’s least populated regions of Burgos, Soria and La Rioja. An investigation of more detailed maps revealed an almost roadless expanse of limestone peaks, valleys, ravines, rivers, gorges and glacial lakes, with the highest peak, San Lorenzo, towering at 2,271 metres (7,451ft). The calling was real.

This is not the Spain of white villages and dusty olive groves. On the Demanda’s north face, where the climate is wetter and cooler, the improvised allotments, stone ruins and makeshift shacks are reminiscent of the forgotten corners of eastern Europe. Climbing higher, above the treeline, the terrain becomes harsh and rocky with sweeping views across plunging, pine-covered valleys. But unlike the dramatic outline of Spain’s more famous mountain ranges, the Demanda appear gradually, almost secretly, their true splendour only emerging once you’re deep in their midst. Every season brings its own charms. Winter is a snowy picture postcard, but in spring the meltwater sends waterfalls thundering down the mountainsides among wildflower meadows. Summer is hot and arid, but by autumn the temperatures hover in the mid-20Cs with (mostly) solid blue skies, and the ground is swathed in pink heather and alpine flowers.

The town of Ezcaray, on the north side, is the closest thing to a tourist hub – a scenic former textile centre on the River Oja that operates as a base for the small ski resort of Valdezcaray, built in the 1970s (the Palacio Azcárate has doubles from €90, B&B). The sealed road ends abruptly after the ski centre, becoming a rocky trail that makes for a nail-biting drive (especially in a hire car) along a ridge that’s at more than 1,800 metres (6,000ft), before looping back to Ezcaray in a dizzying descent of hairpin bends. The views are stupendous in every direction – fold upon fold of untouched mountain wilderness and, apart from the occasional hiking trail signpost, nothing human-made in sight.

Halfway around the loop road, if you’re craving more back-country adventure, a dirt track, appearing as an almost imperceptible black line on the Michelin map and marked with a rusty, hand-painted sign, takes you down into the southern foothills via the Lagunas de Neila, a cluster of glacial lakes, surrounded by cliffs and pine forests. The lakes can only be reached on foot, and at an altitude of 6,000ft make for an invigorating dip. The Laguna Negra is named after its dark waters, but in the late afternoon sun it appears a deep, shimmering blue. The water is, as you would expect, bracing, but it’s the sheer scale of the surroundings, and the solitude, that will take your breath away. The only sound accompanying my swim was a chorus of surprisingly loud frogs, ribbeting from the reeds.

On their south side, heading downhill from the lagunas, the Demanda feel different. The climate turns drier and warmer, and Spain becomes familiar again, with its oak forests, medieval ermitas (chapels) and sleepy villages where old men wave from their chairs outside the taverna. Although there are plenty of well-marked hiking and mountain bike trails here, this is still “España vacía” – empty Spain – and human activity remains a rare sight outside the towns. This phenomenon of the interior’s depopulation is much discussed by Spanish politicians and citizens, and the low density is tangible here – traffic is light and most of the activity is among the animal kingdom. Deer leap through the trees, boar amble across the road, and as the forests give way to open rocky landscapes, griffon vultures perch in their hundreds along the high cliffs before swooping and circling in the late afternoon thermals.

The village of Quintanar de la Sierra, in the southern foothills, makes a good base to explore the Demanda, and the Hostal Domingo offers affordable rooms (doubles from €55, room-only). Like all the villages in the area, life moves slowly and peacefully. Locals get around on horses and in beat-up 4x4s, the shops shut all afternoon, nobody speaks English, and everyone, young and old, socialises in the town plaza where a café con leche will set you back €1.50. Like the ski centre, the hotels and bars are a non-ironic throwback to the 1970s, their only concession to the 21st century being charmingly rudimentary websites and an email address. This is the land that social media forgot, and is better off for it. Although it may appear on the surface that there’s not much in the way of tourist attractions, as you delve deeper into its hidden corners, an intriguing and eclectic landscape of history and culture reveals itself.

Dinosaurs roamed this part of Spain, and hundreds of their footprints are visible near the town of Salas de los Infantes, which also boasts a dinosaur museum. Moving on a few miles, and a few million years, is the eerie Necrópolis de Cuyacabras, dating from the ninth to 11th centuries, where dozens of adult- and child-size tombs are carved from a slab of rock in the depth of a pine forest. Meandering through the villages, Roman bridges, abandoned monasteries and ruins of all eras – from medieval to mid-century – appear at every turn. For lovers of industrial archaeology (AKA clambering around abandoned buildings), an enticing disused railway runs through Salas, its crumbling stations and rusty tracks half hidden beneath tangles of vegetation.

One town where the monastery remains in immaculate order is Santo Domingo de Silos (stay in the Hotel Tres Coronas de Silos, an 18th-century palace nearby; doubles from €95, room only). Its abbey, dating back to at least the 10th century, became world famous in 1994 when its monks scored a chart-topping album of Gregorian chants, and visitors can listen to the vespers being sung every evening.

Three miles over the hill from Silos, you’ll find yourself at an altogether different but equally revered site – Sad Hill cemetery, one of cinema’s most well-known locations, where the closing scene of The Good, The Bad & The Ugly was filmed in 1966. Twenty miles west, venturing deeper into fantasy land, is the Territorio Artlanza, which claims to be the largest sculpture in the world. A magical, full-scale reproduction of a medieval Castilian village, created by Félix Yáñez, a local artist, from materials salvaged from rubbish dumps, it includes porticoed squares, a perfectly equipped school, a carpentry shop, bakery, forge, canteen, wine cellars, an alchemist’s pharmacy and even a small chapel.

Empty patches on maps that elicit few Google search results are rare in these hyperconnected, overshared times. There is a timelessness to the Sierra de la Demanda that feels like innocence, and while other parts of Spain struggle with the pressures of over-tourism, these mountains are a lungful of fresh air. The charms of the Demanda are simple and unshowy, and ironically, make few demands on the visitor – except to breathe deeply and tread lightly.