I have never been a holiday conformist. I enjoy isolation, but not solitude.
I like attention to detail, but dislike too much personal attention. I like fine, wholesome food, but not pretentious, fussy food. I enjoy luxury and indulgence, but prefer adventure and excitement.
So holidays have never been straightforward affairs in the Fogle household. Indeed, they are often sandwiched between filming commitments or expeditions.
Pity the long-suffering Mrs Fogle. After proposing to her with a ring made of hessian rope on a small uninhabited island off Antigua, after rowing the Atlantic with James Cracknell, I whisked her off to the rain-drenched Outer Hebrides for our honeymoon.
The following summer we drove nearly 1,000 miles with the dogs to the middle of Sweden, where we built a raft out of timbers and proceeded to drift down a river for ten days. Unfortunately, the weather was the worst for 50 years and my knots were no match for the elements. Our raft collapsed and we had to abandon it and the holiday early.
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So, last year, Mrs F took advantage of the fact that we had no communication during my two-month trek across Antarctica, and before I had unpacked my sledge we were on a plane to the Seychelles, in the Indian Ocean, which are more commonly associated with honeymoon couples; I was heading into the unknown.
I have had a weakness for islands ever since I was marooned on one for a year by the BBC in 2000, and have since travelled the globe visiting more than 100 remote isles.
Fr?gate island has just 16 villas, for 40 guests. Each villa has its own infinity pool, with magnificent ocean views. But this is where normal luxury ends and Fr?gate luxury begins. There’s a 20-pillow menu, my favourite being the “vitamin E-treated anti-ageing pillow”.
The island is home, too, to what has been deemed the best beach in the world, and you can have it to yourself by putting a “beach in use” sign at the top of its steps.
Fr?gate has two restaurants, but also offers “wild dining” around the island, including breakfast on the beach. Bleary-eyed after our first night’s sleep in a bed with sheets so soft I dreamt I was floating, we crossed the island in a solar-powered golf buggy. As I spend six months per year living under canvas, surviving on rehydrated food, luxuries can sometimes be a little overwhelming. But here, I could feel my body sigh as my frost-nipped fingers and blistered feet luxuriated in the tropical heat.
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Wandering along a wooden path through the trees, we emerged at a place so beautiful it could have been designed for a film set. Giant boulders flanked a perfect crescent of pale gold, lapped by turquoise waves on one side and shadowed by enormous weeping trees on the other. There, on the pristine sand, was a table set with fresh coffee, juice, bircher muesli and, hidden in the foliage, our personal assistant for the week, Asanga, armed with a portable kitchen on which she cooked eggs right there on the beach. As if this wasn’t magical enough, an extremely rare green turtle turned up from the ocean, hauled itself up the beach and began laying eggs just a few feet from us.
Over the week, the food was consistently delicious. The island offers the most extraordinary selection of home-made ice creams, with flavours including tomato and basil, sea salt and caramel, strawberry and black pepper, and my favourite, gunpowder and mint.
For centuries, Fr?gate was a base for pirates, and they affect island life even today. “Sorry about the teacups,” apologised Marc Aeberhard, the manager. “We were waiting for our shipment, but the boat was hijacked.”
But most impressive of all are the island’s environmental credentials. The villa toiletries are made from the island’s fruits and herbs, while an impressive vegetable garden and hydroponics system supplies the French chef with most of his ingredients. Fr?gate’s owner hopes the island will one day be carbon neutral, with plans to install a football-pitch-sized area of solar panels to replace the four generators currently needed to run the resort.
Holidaymakers really are guests on Fr?gate, and have to share it with its permanent residents. Our favourites were the 500 Aldabra giant tortoises, which have a remarkable ability to hide. Their favourite trick is pretending to be a rock, then frightening visitors with a sudden great sigh or sneeze.
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Our final island adventure was afternoon tea on Fr?gate’s highest peak, Glacis Cerf. We clambered up the steep path, past snoozing tortoises, until, at the summit, we reached a beautiful pagoda with breathtaking 360-degree views over the island and the ocean beyond. Before us stood a table stacked with goodies. Sipping our Earl Grey, we watched hundreds of fruit bats the size of foxes emerge from the forest canopy in search of the fruit below. It was like watching a dinosaur film as these creatures swooped below us like pterodactyls.
Fr?gate is my kind of luxury travel: wild, fun, exciting, organic luxury.
Race to the Pole by Ben Fogle and James Cracknell, £18.99, is published by Macmillan. Africa Travel (africatravel.co.uk; 0845 4506706) has a seven-night/pay-for-six deal for Fr?gate from £9,950pp, based on two sharing, including return flights from London, helicopter transfers, full board with non-alcoholic drinks and activities. Valid May 15-July 16 and September 1-30, 2010.