It’s only when I was completely naked and rolling around in the snow that I started to ‘get’ what Finca Cortesin was all about. I was in the middle of the most thorough sequence of treatment of my life: it started with an exhaustively firm 50-minute massage during which knots were audibly squashed; this I followed up with a light uphill jog on one of Finca’s gym’s state-of-the-art treadmills, which faces out onto the tree-lined pool. Then I chose one of several saunas, festering in the dark and cooking myself up into a state of drenched suppleness.
When I couldn’t take it anymore I opened the door that leads to Spain’s only snow cabin – a dark, foreboding, surreal chamber full of real snow – and dived face-first into the powder, rolling around like I was trying to put out a fire. When the refreshment became too overwhelming I broke for the door, remembered there were other people in the resort and grabbed a towel, and shivered over to the plunge pool. I needed a deep breath to convince myself this was a good idea, and the first few seconds after hopping in did little to convince me. But when I dragged myself out and finally sat in a robe, I genuinely felt brand new. Brand, spanking, shiny, shivering, fresh-out-of-the-shrink-wrap, still-warm-from-the-printer new.
It might be the best spa I’ve ever been to and it’s just one of the things about Finca Cortesin that caught me by surprise. The hotel is best-known as the site of the 2009, 2011 and 2012 iterations of the Volvo World Match Play Championships, and it has one of the best golf courses in Spain – glassy green hills rolling down towards the Bahía de Casares, the Mediterranean sliding in and out unfussily in the distance. But golf be damned, I don’t play it and it’s a long way to go for a round of golf in winter.
The hotel takes advantage of the space afforded to it amid the hills and valleys of Andalusia, with an imposing central building, surrounded by an increasing number of villas dotted across the landscape, as well as the clubhouse and golf course, with silent buggies gliding around it, disappearing under the main road into a special tunnel before resurfacing into the sunshine. It’s growing, too – the second phase of villa construction is well underway, adding to the collection of dreamlike residential mini-mansions that sprawl out from the main complex. They have private infinity pools, serene views over the hills, mountains and sea in the distance, and a high-end list of owners – at least one premier league star has already made this his home away from home.
But back to the regular guest experience. We pull into Finca’s courtyard, a sheltered, white brick affair, after a drive of 40 minutes or so from Malaga. There’s a golf buggy near the entrance, ever ready to whisk a few guests to the tee-off. Inside the décor is that of a grand, traditional guest ranch, with a skylit atrium and a view through the double doors to the terrace and the miles of unbroken countryside rolling down beneath it. The first additions to the site, before the site opened in 2009, were dozens of ancient trees (some of which are in their second millennium), transplanted carefully from Sicily. They do give the resort as a whole a kind of authenticity that’s often lacking in these kind of places – it’s not as if it looks like it’s always been here, but it does help what was a major construction site to blend into its surroundings. Two restaurants, the bar and the reception/lounge occupy each corner of the central atrium and the guest quarters are a short walk down through Finca’s rustic corridors.
My suite stretches out into the geographic footprint afforded to the hotel by its hilltop location – it’s huge. The living room is huge. The closet space is huge. The bedroom is huge. The TV is huge. My private terrace, with views over the pool, the countryside and the Sierra Nevada in the distance, is huge. The bathroom is huge and the shower is significantly bigger than my entire bathroom in London: it’s a wet room with a rain shower at one end, and I actually have to walk several steps to the other end to get to the Penhaligon’s toiletries recessed into the wall. Also important (and rare, unfortunately) is the fact that the Wi Fi is free and works immediately, at high speed. I suspect that the kind of individual who’ll take a break at Finca Cortesin might need to grab half an hour here and there to deal with some emails, and as the wireless stretches to the terrace, such an individual will be well catered for.
We try two restaurants on site: El Jardin de Lutz and Kabuki Raw. The former focuses on traditional Spanish cuisine, conjured up by German executive chef Lutz Bösing. The menu follows the seasons and as we’re in the hunting season when I visit, pigeon and venison find their way onto the menu, along with some absolutely delicious monkfish. Breakfast is taken in Jardin de Lutz, affording you the chance of a leisurely cortado after your Iberian eggs. Kabuki Raw is a more dramatic affair, focusing on Japanese orthodoxy in its ingredients and a view straight into the kitchen, where the cold-handed chefs beaver away diligently. Sushi lovers will be delighted with the results, and the tuna tartar tenderized in wasabi was so breathtakingly good that I actually helped a fellow diner eat his without even being asked, which was very kind of me. After dinner we retired across the courtyard to the Blue Bar, and took some fine cocktails out onto the windswept terrace as the night wound down.
The golf course, and clubhouse, are just what you’d expect from somewhere selected to host the Word Match Play Championship – immaculately presented and superbly managed. Photo portraits of famous players on the course line the staircase, perhaps a bit of inspiration before you tee off. Not much of a golfer, I was more interested in the hotel’s selection of pools, which is unprecedented – a 25-metre, slightly salinated, heated pool sits at the centre of the spa complex and is an absolute treat, particularly in the evenings. In the gardens outside, there’s a 30m pool to the east, set beautifully in a tree-lined courtyard. For most places that would be enough, but not here – to the south, on the other side of the gardens that play host to the occasional wedding, is a full-sized 50m Olympic-length pool – manna from heaven for tourists who like to keep their good habits going when they travel. It’s a little cold in late November so I don’t take a dip but in a few months this will be ready to accommodate both serious swimmers looking to get some laps in, and relaxed holidaymakers ready to sip a cocktail.
It says a lot for Finca Cortesin that during my stay I didn’t particularly feel like I wanted to venture out, except for the odd jog around the golf course. There is much to do though – ski slopes are reachable on a day trip from the resort, and a a little closer by there’s Ronda, with its breathtaking gorge and ancient bullring. For a relatively new resort, Finca Cortesin seems very quickly to have settled in and made this corner of the world its own, and for golfers and non-golfers alike it offers a luxurious, relaxing experience, alongside that genuinely world-class spa. You’ll come out of that snow room reborn. Confused, maybe, but reborn.
For more information about Finca Cortesin, including details on its facilities, amenities and more tantalising imagery, or to arrange a booking, visit www.fincacortesin.com.
