La Guérite, South of France

There is something a little less overt about this beach restaurant than its St Tropez buddy Club 55. A little less. It's set on its own island off the coast of Cannes, so everyone has to arrive by boat - massive super-yachters, but wooden tubs, too - in order to swim to shore and emerge looking immediately rather sensational. The little shop isn't as good as the famous beach hut on Pampelonne and there are less suede bikinis mincing about, but there is also more space and the staff are less frenetic. Lunch is late, and goes on later. Cute boys and girls whirl around with great platters of fish buried in salt, and bottles of pink wine so large they pour them from over their shoulders. Everything is fresh, fresh, fresh: lobster, prawns, burrata, sea-bass ceviche. The fruity sorbets - blackberry, mango - are lickety split. The sea twinkles, the feast is on, somewhere that is cleverly salty-haired and barefoot yet classically Riviera-glamorous, too.