Name
Joanna Delia

Occupation
Aesthetic physician, clinic owner, editor of Just Beauty magazine, cosmetic medical expert on TV

Just before take-off on a helicopter ride in the Faroe Islands, the pilot heard there had been a whale killing on a nearby beach- Joanna Delia

My best holiday ever…

It was, in fact, not really a holiday. My nine-week surgical placement in a downtown Rio de Janeiro hospital was so much more than I bargained for in every fabulous way.

Picture lying on one of the 40-plus white sandy beaches every afternoon after work, watching the body-obsessed joggers and beach volley ball players in Copacabana while sipping chilled coconut water, then hanging out in a beach shack listening to samba or going to a bossa nova concert and chatting and laughing with the locals.

I sailed, went diving and once I even found myself swimming with dozens of wild dolphins. On dry land, I went to a contemporary art show opening and obviously I shopped like mad... it was incredible.

I would never return to…

Probably Canada and Stockholm, but I never say never as I believe that every destination deserves a second chance. My problem is that I hate winter, no matter how romantic the snow can be.

I find it hard to believe people can survive in death-defying temperatures, and the grey skies and slippery pavements mean that I can’t motivate myself to go outside and explore.

I also find Canada and Stockholm soulless. Their cuisine is boring, their culture devoid of spice and their inhabitants seem to be cold, passionless and so disciplined and controlled that it’s boring.

The most dangerous place I’ve visited…

Statistically Brazil, though I blended in so perfectly that I didn’t have any problems, even though violent gangs lurk around most corners.

I saw some horrifying victims of violence in east Africa during a voluntary stint in Kenya, I’ve been pick-pocketed in Delhi and threatened with a knife by a junkie on a train in Milan – but all turned out well in each case.

Possibly, my worst near-death experience was in Chituan deep in the Nepalese jungle. While we were sleeping, our guide came banging on the door of our bungalow-on-stilts on the edge of a meandering river. My travel partner, still half asleep, went to see what the problem was, and in a zombie-like voice said: “The guide wants us to move to a room high up in the trees... he’s panicking... I think he’s swimming.”

Believing it was a con to move us into an uglier room, I refused to move but at the guide’s insistence I got out of bed to find two-metre-high waters seeping into the hut.

We had to swim in pitch-black, alligator- and snake-infested waters to a flimsy ladder where the resort manager was somewhat comically waiting with an umbrella.

We stayed in this chicken wire room in the trees for three days after that, watching the flash flood waters subside and then we had to travel by elephant and donkey to a makeshift airstrip where the military were airlifting tourists and locals out – for a price of course.

I have never felt as relieved as I did when we landed in Kathmandu, although the 12-seater plane journey over the Himalayas was priceless.

My favourite city…

Valletta, by far. Although I love Milan during design week, and Paris during fashion week, and the surreal reality of Venice being a city built on water.

I also love Iquitos, the ultimate Amazonian city in Peru, which is unreachable by road, and Jaisalmer in the Indian Thar Desert, which is a perfectly preserved silk route fortress city.

Then there is Reykjavik with its ‘cloud factory’ power stations, Santiago de Chile because its vibrant Plaza Major is within easy reach of the snowboarding slopes of the Andes and glistening Pacific beaches, and Berlin is my favourite alternative city.

As you may have guessed, I’m a city girl of sorts, but I’ll never have a favourite city destination because I’m so in love withValletta, the city I live in.

My most memorable experience on an aircraft…

After being offered first class seats on a 12-hour KLM flight from Lima in Peru to Amsterdam, my psychiatrist friend and I had to play doctors and periodically asses the mental state of a violent paranoid schizophrenic, meaning no sleep on the fully-reclinable chairs, and worst of all, no champagne.

Thankfully he behaved and whenever the captain asked us if he should land prematurely to prevent havoc, we recommended that we should continue the flight.

My most treasured holiday souvenir…

A hand-knitted, graphic-designed, adult-sized baby grow made of Icelandic wool which I spend the whole summer dreaming of wearing while cozying up on the sofa on chilly Maltese winter nights. It’s huge and looks like a monstrous unstuffed teddy bear, but it’s adorable.

My biggest gaffe abroad…

Happens frequently: in the most clichéd islander manner, I always underestimate distances, thinking I can cross 750 km in an hour or two by road. I’ve been forced to take unplanned internal flights in places as varied as Africa, Germany and Iceland, yet I keep on miscalculating.

We had to swim in pitch-black, alligator- and snake-infested waters to a flimsy ladder where the resort manager was waiting somewhat comically with an umbrella- Joanna Delia

The taxi ride I will never forget…

It was, in fact, a helicopter ride. In the Faroe Islands a 20-minute chopper ride to an outlying island is cheaper than a five-minute taxi ride in the capital Torshavn.

Just before take-off on one such ride, the pilot heard there had been a whale killing on a nearby beach. Knowing I’m vegetarian and that I would go hysterical if I had to witness such an event, my boyfriend’s brother managed to convince the pilot to call the control room and change course.

An unforgettable hotel...

A riad we once rented in Marrakech, Morocco. It was stunning but the soft furnishings were completely impregnated with dust.

I suppose you could say the clouds which sprang up every time you sat on a sofa or brushed by a curtain added to the air of oriental mysticism, but the doors had no lock and there was no climate control system so we had no choice but to add our lingering smell of sweat to the mix of musty smells that the cushions and curtains seemed to be giving off.

Despite that, the fresh orange juice served in the morning was divine.

I return most often to...

London unfortunately, usually for business, and Venice to stay on my friend’s vintage ­sailing boat. Also Barcelona to visit friends and be a devout ­contemporary architecture tourist.

I usually make bi-annual visits to all three of these cities, although they are not necessarily my favourite places on earth.

My ideal travel companion...

Someone who is impulsively adventurous, never complains, will indulge all my excuses for a good meal, and won’t mind ­waiting for hours while I shop in the basement of La Fayette.

Country with the best cuisine...

Italy, obviously. I challenge anyone to show me a place which serves bad food in Italy, provided it is not on a main road or in a tourist trap.

But I have to say that my taste buds have never been as happy as they were in Africa. Having the run of the kitchen and a seemingly endless supply of never-before-seen vegetables and fruits meant I was like a kid in a sweet shop... no, a chimp in a banana plantation would probably suit the setting better!

My next holiday plans…

London tomorrow, Barcelona in two weeks, and possibly Vietnam and Cambodia for a couple of weeks over Christmas, although I still have to do some research as I have to admit that my geography knowledge does not extend that far east.

Nevertheless, I am excited about hopefully visiting an ­unspoilt, non-commercialised, intense, sensory-overloading Asian country again. My ­experience in India a few years back have left me longing for more.

My travel tip…

Always try to behave like a local and blend in; it is immensely rewarding to be able to see a country from the inside. Don’t spend too much time travelling internally; stay put in the same place for a while and savour the sounds, smells and sights. And make local friends who will enrich you in ways you cannot imagine.