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Meet Hilary Bass Rifkin: Head of PR/Marketing and Fitness Expert at Lomax Bespoke

Meet Hilary Bass Rifkin: Head of PR/Marketing and Fitness Expert at Lomax Bespoke

Hometown: London

Occupation: Head of PR/Marketing and PT, Lomax Bespoke Fitness, Nutrition and Wellbeing.

Favorite destinations: Sardinia, The Luberon, Amagansett.

Dying to visit: Peru, Tanzania, Argentina, Vienna.

Bizarre travel rituals: I have three pieces of jewelry that I must put on in a very specific order. A necklace my Nana gave to me before she died, the bracelet I was given when my son was born, a necklace with my children's names engraved on it. The other is more mundane: lots of water and a Berocca prior to boarding and again mid-flight on a long-haul flights.

In-flight relaxation regime: More often than not, I am traveling with my two children, so my regime is completely dependent upon their in-flight film and food options. If they are good, I am good.

Always in carry-on: My body weight in magazines. From Wallpaper to Vogue, The New Yorker to The Lady.

Concierge or DIY? DIY, but I do serious research before I go.

See it all or take it easy? Usually a combination of both. I like to get up and get out, but I love a good lunch on holiday, so post-lunch is for taking it easy.

Drive or be driven? Generally neither. I walk or take public transport as much as I can no matter where I am.

Travel hero: My Nana, who never skipped the opera in Verona, theatre in London, dinner in Paris, or the White Nights of Moscow.

Weirdest thing seen on travels: I was forewarned but was still taken aback when the locals in Vietnam were constantly touching my kids' faces. They are drawn to Caucasian features and fascinated by a child's face. But it was still a bizarre experience.

Best hotel amenity: A choice of pillows. Feathers, foam, Tempur-Pedic...a bad pillow can ruin a night's sleep, which will in turn ruin whatever plans you had for the upcoming day.

I dream about eating ouefs en meurette at Fontaine de Mars in Paris. And I will never stop loving lobster cooked in a fire on the beach in Amagansett, followed by s'mores.

Everywhere I go, I check out the local market. I know I can't cook in my hotel room, but always want to see what I might cook if I could.

When I arrive in a new place, I learn the lay of the land by taking a long walk or run.

I always bring home interesting lingerie and accessories from whatever amounts to a city's red light district, hotel shower caps, a piece of jewelry from a local designer.

If I never return to Marrakech it'll be too soon because it was worse than being on Oxford Street at Christmas. A constant assault on the senses with no opportunity to relax and let your guard down.

I travel for the relief and inspiration.


Travel Notes
  • Kayaking Through Baja s Enchanting Islands

    The air is very still here, and the outlines of the islands change with every passing flicker of heat. It’s as if the sky is sucking the land upward, all that simmering casting a dreamlike aura over the entire landscape – a thick and beautiful hallucination if ever there was one. I’ve been paddling and hiking the Baja peninsula for eight days now and yet my mind still has trouble grasping the reality of what it must have been like living in this arid – yet paradisal – place eons ago. Traces

  • Cycling the Andes: Conquering High‑Altitude Volcanoes and Meeting Vicuñas

    The sun was setting as I followed the road winding up the volcano, but it didn’t matter how many turns I made, the summit was not coming into sight. ‘Richness comes with struggle’ – I repeated those words in my head like an incantation, surprised that I had managed to form a thought between my ragged breaths. I was cycling at 5,000m and my body was desperate for oxygen; I began to muse over the symptoms of altitude sickness. ‘Richness comes with struggle.’ Well, at least I was able to tick t

  • Exploring the Southern Rock Lobster: A Marine Biologist’s Field Adventure

    The waves weren’t really putting on much of a show that first evening as we set up camp. But out of the corner of my eye I could see the marine biologist of our trio, pulling his wetsuit out of his overly stuffed pack anyway. He’d seen the subtle signs; a low swell, a slight wind, a boulder-strewn shoreline, the perfect habitat for the southern rock lobster, or locally known as the Tassie crayfish. Within minutes, he was out there; mere moments later, a neoprene-gloved hand thrusted out of t