La Gomera is the Canary islands’ feral little sister.

Unspoilt to the point of wild, the second smallest Canary island will have you fire dancing and hilltop whistling (seriously - whistling’s the local language).

Just a 45 minute ferry away from bigger, brasher Tenerife, this bohemian utopia swaps grey-haired tourists for renegade hippies.

You’ll find them in Valle Gran Rey bashing drums, stamping about and generally giving off strong tribal vibes at the ‘Espectaculo de Fuego’ (fire spectacle) every evening at sunset.

On the other hand, if you want to avoid them (and every other human at all costs) head deep inside the UNESCO Garajonay National Park.

You’ll find the big old mountain, La Montananeta, which you can crawl straight through like the lads from LOTR (it’s a water tunnel see).

Refuel with the island’s uniquely weird food. Like miel de palma - ‘honey’ collected from palm trees. Kinda like a smoky caramel, pour it over goats cheese, desserts or just neck it from the bottle.

Then there’s the ‘almogrote’ - a spicy cheese pate made from smushed hard cheese, spices and garlic.

Get em both at Efigenia’s Restaurante La Montaña.

While the rest of us are freezing our nips off all through the winter, La Gomera is basking in 21 degrees of glorious sunshine (smug cow).