Escaping winter on the slower side of the Canary Islands

I find winter an annual trial-by-ice. The damp Irish cold, the constant gray, the 4pm darkness – it all makes me feel I’m only living at 50% capacity, like a phone stuck on low battery mode. 

Everyone bangs on about cozy nights in and the joys of soup, but I need sun. So, every year, as November rolls in like a soggy blanket, I plan my escapes; one or two warm-weather pitstops get me through to spring. 

An invite to a wellness break in Fuerteventura had me at hello – obviously. Soon I’d swapped gray-skied Dublin, where the rain was coming at me sideways, for the sun-drenched coastline of the second largest and lesser-visited Canary Island.

Fuerteventura isn’t flashy. It’s not the place to come for infinity pools and Instagram backdrops. Instead, it offers volcanic landscapes, salty air and a sense of blessed nothingness. Perfect, really, because all I wanted was blue sky and a warm breeze.

I was invited to stay at the Iberostar Selection Fuerteventura Palace, which sounds very grand (if not a bit Dynasty), but the property is very tasteful, with a staff that’s extremely good at making you feel like you’ve made excellent life choices. It’s tucked away on the southern tip of the island (an hour’s transfer from the airport), perched above the endless sands of Jandía beach, with the kind of sea views that make you audibly exhale. 

The hotel has more than 430 rooms, which would usually send me straight into boutique-hotel-snob panic mode. But, hand on heart, it never once felt busy. Not once. It’s full of people but somehow not people-y. This has to be the result of some sort of clever Iberostar wizardry, and I’m all for it.

My days began with 8am sunrise yoga on the beach. (This sounds virtuous, but was in fact completely glorious.) There’s something wildly life-affirming about saluting the sun while the Atlantic sparkles at you as a German nudist power-walks past in the background. The hotel lays on a whole menu of fitness classes – Pilates, strength training, aqua aerobics – all kindly designed to make you feel like you’re one of those people who drinks enough water and never forgets to stretch.

Afternoons drift by in a sort of blissful haze, mostly spent lolling by one of the four pools with book in hand and no urgency whatsoever. There’s none of that panicked, pre-breakfast sunbed dash nonsense. Just saunter over whenever you’re ready and pick your spot: maybe a classic lounger, a decadent double bed with a canopy, or maybe even one of those egg chairs. Or, if you’re me, a shaded seat just near the snack bar, so you barely have to move when it’s time for a cold drink or a mid-afternoon nibble.

On the subject of nibbles, the hotel lays on a buffet so abundant and joyfully excessive it deserves its own postcode. Breakfast, lunch and themed dinners (Mexican one night, Japanese the next) – it’s all there, and it makes me very giddy every time. If the very idea of a buffet sends you spiraling into a crisis of self-restraint, there’s also alMar, a lovely sit-down spot overlooking the sea serving tapas and traditional Canarian dishes, as well as a Teppanyaki restaurant for a bit of dinnertime theater.

One morning, I managed to tear myself away from the pool for a visit to a local aloe vera farm called Vidalo, which turned out to be less “farm” and more serene botanical haven. Another day, I joined an excursion to Cofete, a wild, remote beach on the island’s southwestern edge that feels like the end of the world: 14km of untouched sand, backed by volcanic mountains including the moody-looking Pico de la Zarza, the island’s highest point. There are no bars, no beds, no vendors – just wind, waves, sand and a glorious sense of total, elemental escape. 

Then it was back to the buffet, and one last walk on the beach to feel the sand between my toes, before it was time to pull on my woolly socks and head to the airport.

The details

Rates from €206 per night depending on season, with all inclusive or half board options.

Bookable on the Iberostar website.