oldest

I’VE never tried synchronised swearing before – but then again, I’ve never been in a crowd being buzzed by a low-altitude jet fighter.

F***!! we yelled as a Blue Angels “sneak” pilot screamed over us and we watched the other five planes from the flight soaring in perfect formation high in the sky.

What made it even more exciting was that we were on a boat in the Gulf of Mexico, basking in 30C heat.

It was a highlight of our visit to Pensacola in the Florida panhandle (the top bit).

While still new to many Brits, this was familiar territory to our ancestors.

It has a claim to be America’s oldest city, established by Spanish conquerors in 1559, and is now known as The City Of Five Flags as it has also been ruled by France, the good guys from Great Britain, the Confederate States of America and, of course, the US.

DRINK IT IN

Adult-only campsite in the middle of a cider farm & you can stay for £17 each

NO KID-DING

Train company launches adult-only carriages – and kids are BANNED

The latter were fighting for strategic military importance, which is why it is now home to a US Navy base — and that formation- flying team, the oldest in the English- speaking world.

But forget the strategic importance, just go here for the beaches.

They are incredible. White sand, warm water, more dolphins than you can shake a flipper at, and plenty of pelicans.

There are also hundreds of restaurants, bars, coffee and souvenir shops, and a host of top hotels including the Hilton Pensacola Beach where we stayed.

The latter is a great stay, with charming staff, superb pools, a welcoming outdoor bar and a fine restaurant.

Best of all was its location, though it’s not in “downtown” Pensacola.

It’s on, as its name suggests, Pensacola Beach — an offshore resort on the island of Santa Rosa, linked by bridge to its big brother.

If you’re not driving, there’s the Pensacola Bay City Ferry, shuttling between downtown, Pensacola Beach and the historic Fort Pickens, well worth a visit in its own right. You can buy daily hop-on, hop-off tickets.

Also, when the Blue Angels practise, most Tuesdays, you can do what we did and, for about £25, book a cruise out to sea to catch all the action.

Pensacola and Pensacola Beach provides you with the ideal two-centre holiday without much travelling.

Head downtown and you can revel in rich history — with lots of helpful signage, marked walking paths and the Veterans Memorial Park — as well as enjoying art shops and museums and event spaces.

Our visit coincided with the Pensacola Seafood Festival. Stalls sell everything from cheese-flavoured popcorn and artisan beers to, er, mermaid outfits.

We didn’t buy much, as wifey had blown our budget on a painting of a seahorse from a lovely art shop on the main drag, Palafox Street.

Once you are tired of the culture and shopping, and have eaten and drunk your fill — check my guide, above, to Pensacola dining — what are you going to do? That’s right, head back over the bridge to the beaches.

Get yourself a boat trip to go dolphin-spotting — you can see them while you are driving over the bridge but it is an offence to stop there.

We went with Captain Steve after booking with friskyboattours.com — and that man knows how to find a dolphin.

He’s also really good at explaining the area, and identifying passing birds.

One of those passing birds was an osprey, and we ventured a little farther afield one day to see if we could find some more.

It meant sacrificing the beaches for a while as we headed inland to Tarkiln Bayou State Park, where a marked trail — the Americans are good at that — tells you what you may see.

It leads you on a beautiful, tranquil route, past rare carnivorous pitcher plants (I read the sign) to a hidden lake. It was lovely but there were no ospreys, which was surprising given the number of tasty fish we saw swimming around.

No problem, they were there at next stop, Big Lagoon State Park.

Observation towers give you a great view of the wildlife — the resting osprey being trumped for me by a great blue hero flapping past at eye level.

I did mention not many Brits know about Pensacola — whose social-media marketing message is #thewaytobeach — and some of the locals would like to keep it that way.

We had flown from Heathrow on a Virgin Atlantic booking with partner airline Delta, changing planes at Atlanta.

It wasn’t as fast as the Blue Angels, but it was much less noisy and much more comfortable.

While we were waiting for our connecting flight to Pensacola, we chatted to a couple who, it turned out, had a condo on Pensacola Beach.

They were puzzled why we were going there and I explained I was writing a piece for a British newspaper.

“Don’t”, they said, “It’s our secret.”

Sorry.

CRAB CAKE OR TACOS?

YOU won’t go hungry or thirsty in Pensacola. Here’s our guide to dining of all kinds, from flip-flop to fine, at the beach and downtown.

BEACH

Flounder’s Chowder House: Big portions and bargain Bushwhackers (the local signature cocktail, a chocolatey rum-based concoction). Family-friendly with great play areas.

Bamboo Willie’s: Home of frozen cocktails, a perfect spot to chill.

Casino Beach Bar and Grille: Overlooks the pier. Totally relaxing, with great views and food.

The Grand Marlin: A wonderful atmosphere, tremendous seafood, views to die for.

Native Cafe: All-day breakfast joint the locals love. Try Crab Cakes Benny – muffin, crab cakes and poached eggs with hollandaise sauce.

Red Fish Blue Fish: The perfect beachfront restaurant and bar. Go for the shrimp tacos.

Salt: Signature restaurant at the Hilton Pensacola Beach. Beautifully prepared seafood and the best steak I’ve had in ages.

DOWNTOWN

Bodacious Shops: Classy coffee and breakfast staples plus artisanal olive oils and vinegars to buy.

The Fish House: Go for baked oysters. Also home to Grits à Ya Ya – tasty shrimp on a savoury porridge.

Jaco’s Bayfront Bar and Grill: Perfect spot next to the ferry port. Try the crab cakes or mahi tacos.

Maker’s Cafe: Welcoming spot, perfect for coffee and cake.

Union Public House and The Well: Neighbouring venues – a great gastro pub and a cocktail bar where they mix a drink to match your mood.

Dzeko has been a crucial player for his country since his international debut in 2007, and has 73 goals in 147 appearances – scoring every year for the past two decades.

Until as recently as last year he was still reaching double figures for goals at club level.

Last summer, he returned to Serie A to sign for Fiorentina and, at the time, dismissed suggestions he was slowing down with age.

“Age doesn’t matter, I’m not a write-off yet,” he said.

“Behind all this is the work that a 39-year-old has to do, even more than others. I feel good, we’re working hard, and this will bring us satisfaction later.”

That move did not quite work out and Dzeko soon found himself out of favour at the club, having failed to score in 11 Serie A games.

But a switch to Schalke in Bundesliga 2 in January has reinvigorated him – possibly at just the right time as the World Cup approaches – and he has scored six goals in eight games for the German side.

On what the future holds for him, Dzeko said recently: “I’ll listen to my body in the summer but at the moment, I still feel very good, and I still score goals.”

But if he does help his country qualify for the World Cup, it is very likely that conversation with his body will be delayed a little longer.

Near the top of the Grimsel Pass in Switzerland’s Bernese Oberland, a small crowd had gathered to take photographs. We were surrounded by bulky mountains and rippling glaciers, but all eyes were focused on a silvery granite chalet with apple-red shutters, its foundations deep in snow.

It was early February and, one after another, we posed in front of it as if standing beside a celebrity. Which in a way we were, because the proud building was the Grimsel Hospiz, the country’s oldest recorded mountain inn and a place that predates Westminster Abbey.

First documented in 1142 and originally built as a simple hostel – either by the Order of Saint Lazarus or the Augustinian monastery of Interlaken, no one is quite sure – today’s much-modernised Grimsel Hospiz is marooned on a spur of sheer rock and snow at 2,000 metres (6,562 ft). Over the centuries it has been inhabited by monks, used by shepherds, needy travellers and soldiers, ravaged by fire and buried by an avalanche. The mountains reach up, but it is surrounded on three sides by plunging ravines and the frozen Grimselsee, which thaws to turquoise ice floes in spring. The scenery is stupendous.

My visit began on a PostBus, the yellow stagecoaches that reach the parts of Switzerland that the railways can’t. I was south-east of the village of Meiringen, having taken a train to Innertkirchen Kraftwerk, a station built 100 years ago to service the hydroelectric power plants hidden deep in the mountains. The towering stone pines, the tumbling cliffs, the dripping snow, the sky only peeking through – it might have been the landscape of JRR Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

As the bus worked its way higher up the Aare Gorge, we saw that the road ahead was closed for winter. Instead, we were dropped at a high-security shutter leading to an underground hydropower station operated by Kraftwerke Oberhasli AG. The renewable energy plant opens for public tours and, moments later, a minibus appeared from behind the steel door to take us deeper into the mountains. We hopped on board.

A road blasted into the granite, dark and narrow, then crept through a maze of tunnels, ending four miles (6.4km) later at a tiny cable car station that opened to daylight. We looked up at the Grimselsee reservoir and Spitallamm Dam, a 113 metre-tall arch of stone above which we were soon to soar. For a century, the high-altitude lake has stored glacier meltwater to generate green electricity. Now, for visitors like me, it forms part of Grimselwelt, a Swiss Alpine tourist region, serving as a backdrop to a great tract of lonely winter wilderness.

The picture of the Grimsel Hospiz developed as we rose on the cable car, like a photo going from faded to sharp. The uninhabited valleys beyond led to the Unteraargletscher, an eight-mile leviathan of ice and the Alps’ fifth-largest glacier. From the cable car, I made out a group of horned ibex as they clambered with ease over the col.

It was the Celts, then Romans, who first used the Grimsel Pass, but it has been an important locus in Alpine culture for centuries: a trade route between Berne and Upper Valais in the middle ages, a strategic camp for raids and war campaigns between Swiss, French, German and Austrian armies, a setting for pioneering glacier research. All these aspects combine in a single story at the Grimsel Hospiz.

What lends the mountain inn so much credibility today is its environmental outlook. Located within the Unesco World Heritage Swiss Alps Jungfrau-Aletsch region, the 28-room hotel is in the midst of a critical wildlife habitat, meaning all winter sports are banned. Ski gear is prohibited by the hotel’s management and it cannot be transported on the cable car. The Alps have always been the preserve of travellers keen on activities that take serious effort, but here is an antidote to every other winter destination, a rare meditative place where doing nothing is the only thing to do.

The only activity on offer is snowshoeing and even that is restricted to a 500-metre loop around the inn’s tower-like granite porches and wooden and copper-roofed chapel. It might be “the shortest winter trail in Switzerland”, as manager Markus Meier put it, but it still took me an hour as I kept stopping to take photos.

Inside is a fantasy mountain inn, the result of sensitive restorations: a huge wooden door creaks open and you step into corridors leading to cosy double rooms, intimate lounges, fireplaces and a restaurant where dinner is accompanied by one of 250 bottles from one of Europe’s highest-altitude wine cellars. Back in 1932, the guesthouse caused a sensation as the continent’s first electrically heated hotel. Now, the building is sustainably powered by clean energy and waste heat from the hydroelectric plant below.

As evening fell, it was time for the inn’s only other activity: staring at the flaring sunset and night sky from its outdoor wooden barrel sauna and hot tub. The air was bracingly cold, the constellations appeared and it was just me, the burbling water and the mountains stretching away into darkness. Forget any thoughts of Alpine heroes such as George Mallory or Edward Whymper. That night, down to my cossie in -10C (14F), tiptoeing across the snow in a pair of felt slippers and dwarfed by mountains, I was the bravest man in the Alps.

At nearly 2,000 metres, dinner is another event. The four-course menu produced by Slovakian chef Roman Crkon is hardly the stuff of traditional refuges. I’ve had my share of mountain meals, but I’ve never had veal sweetbreads, scallops, chicken with truffle cream and a cheese board at high altitude. In 1544, a local chronicler wrote that the Grimsel Hospiz was all about “good wine, brought by pack animals across the mountains”. Looking at the card games and excessive drinking around me, little had changed.

Later, just before bed, I slipped outside to gaze again at the stars. It was pine needle-drop quiet. Though I was separated from some of Switzerland’s most popular resort towns by only a few miles as the eagle flies, I felt engulfed by the Alps in their entirety. Tomorrow, another day with nothing to do beyond the confines of the inn awaited. But in a landscape like this, I was thrilled to have fallen off the map, out of time, into winter’s grasp.

The trip was provided by Jungfrau Region and Historic Alpine Hotel Grimsel Hospiz (Wednesday to Sunday only; grimselwelt.ch). Rooms from £165pp a night, including breakfast, afternoon tea, hot tub and wooden barrel sauna. A four-course dinner costs £85. Return bus, tunnel and cable car transfers cost £70