A secret culinary hot spot, with a good spa thrown in

People clearly enjoy their food in Luxembourg. I don't know whether it's the natives, the 60% of the population who are expats from other countries, or simply the result of so much affluence, but this is a country awash with fine restaurants and great wine lists, delivering the goods for 30% to 50% less than equivalent places in the UK.

At the top of the week's experiences must come the Restaurant la Distillerie inside the Chateau de Bourglinster, where we threw ourselves with abandon into the chef's nine-course "symphonie culinaire" with matching wines. (11 courses if you include the amuse bouche and the chocolates with coffee.) You will not be surprised that the meal lasted for five glorious hours, delivering taste, artistry and a balance of flavours so exquisite as to put this place on par with the world-ranked Fat Duck, despite holding two fewer Michelin stars. And at half the price for the equivalent experience, it might be worth a trip to the Grand Duchy just for a meal here.

The dining room is a solid, vaulted medieval room on the ground floor of the castle with gothic windows overlooking the small village and forests tucked in between limestone bluffs. There were just 10 tables in the room; this is intimate, almost private dining. The amuse bouche sent out by the chef to accompany our initial glasses of champagne set the standard for what was to come. A flower pot, from which sprung a forest of skewers, each topped with a different morsel to perk up your taste buds. The variety of colours and shapes did indeed make this look like an edible flower arrangement. One bite in particular provided the memory of the meal: fois gras and chocolate, topped with chocolate space dust (the candy that fizzes once it works with the moisture of your mouth). I know it sounds bizarre, but it was one of the most decadent and delicious things I've ever tried.

Another highlight was an artistic turn on "surf and turf": a large marrow bone, hollowed and cleaned. Then filled with an artificial marrow of vegetable paste. Topped with a langoustine claw. Served with a matching "cocktail" ... a highball glass with a couple of inches of langoustine bisque in it, and a sprig of mint emerging from the top that you were supposed to inhale as you sipped the bisque through a straw. As with the fois gras and space dust, the nose full of greenery had us giggling at the same time we appreciated the flavours. Other courses included pigeon, lobster and more fois gras. The cheese course was one of the most beautiful I've ever seen, with four pieces of local cheese each matched with the appropriate biscuit, fruit or chutney, displayed as if tiny works of art. Just when I thought it couldn't get better, dessert arrived. Six tiny pots lined up along a long, rectangular plate, featuring the whole gamut of sweet options (fruits, creams, chocolates) presented in a suggested order so that your taste buds started at mild to and worked up to intense. Every course was matched with the appropriate wines. I wish I could remember details, but suffice it to say that it was all perfect.

The chef here, who kindly signed our menus before allowing us to take our coffee in the sunny, mostly empty castle courtyard, used to be the chef for the Grand Duke of Luxembourg. So if you want to get a taste of what a state banquet with royalty must be like, this is the place to do it. It's a safer bet, I regret to say, than me getting visitors an invite to pop across the river and dine with my royal neighbour in Windsor.

We didn't need to spend big money or go the lavish, nine-course option to find great food elsewhere. The wine town of Remisch dished up two fine lunches. The covered veranda at the Hotel de L'Esplanade served up a classic lunch of pate and l'escargot, consumed at leisure as we watched the Moselle flow by. An even better option was the restaurant about a mile up river at the St. Martin winery, where a sea of crisp white linen dots a lawn overlooking the water. Here we had some extra-ordinary "salads" : the lettuce merely a picturesque green cradle for the abundance of seafood or meat arranged atop it. (Strange thing about this little landlocked country. The seafood was fantastic.) Check out the scallops on the left side of my plate in the picture. I've never seen any that big before.

In Luxembourg city, we had another fine range of seafood at the Maison du Homard (House of Lobster). This place sits on the main square, just a few hundred yards from the Grand Duke's palace, and offers both fine food and great people watching from its outdoor tables. Not being an oyster fan, I can only attest to the quality of the satisfaction on my friends' faces as they dug in to one of the restaurant's specialties. I opted for a seafood pasta so heavily laden with fish that I left much of the pasta behind, unable to push on with the generous servings.

If you're going to go for full on indulgence, then at some point all that food and wine really should be complemented by a spa. So with the boys back at work, Cora and I went for the ultimate girls' treat at the spa in Mondorf. Although this wasn't quite so "girlie" a treat as anticipated. This was my first full-on continental spa, where Germanic types of both sexes come for medical reasons. As opposed to your typical Anglo-Saxon spa, which is all about luxury and beauty treatments and is almost exclusively female.

The architecture here was rather hideous; a brutal concrete spread from the '60s or '70s, clearly meant to evoke its serious medical purpose. (There are lovely examples of art nouveau and French Empire elsewhere in town, but the modern builders ditched those for the main facility.) Even more disturbing were the naked men strolling around the pool and saunas. As with all my (few) experiences with public nakedness, I once again observed that anyone with a body worth exhibiting remained clothed, while those who were ready to reveal everything...

Well, you have to admire their confidence. Cora and I, swimming costumes solidly affixed to bodies, headed to the lower pool where the temperature was higher and clothing required. And here, I found heaven. I should admit here that I'm the kind of person who can easily spend three hours in a bathtub with a good book, topping up the hot water as needed. At Mondorf I found a huge, steamy bathtub, half indoors and half out, dotted with a wide variety of jets, currents, waterfalls and bubbles with which to pummel yourself before swimming over to a submerged bench to lounge. The mineral water flows straight out of the earth at 25 degrees c and has been drawing crowds since 1847. The sensation of lying in that delicious warmth, looking up at the trees swaying above was pure bliss.

I could have stayed in there all day. And almost did, with the exception of a 90-minute facial and a lovely lunch in the restaurant. (Where I was rather miffed to have to put on shoes. I mean, really, if men can expose their private parts in sauna and pool, why did I have to cover my toes in order to grab a bite to eat?) I would not have wanted to try to figure out this place without speaking French, but now that I've been there and navigated the differences I'd happily return. The full day pass to the hot pool was less than £10; the facial was about the same price as ones I've had in London, but of a much better quality and with more services included as part of the base price.

So, another surprising vote for Luxembourg. As a hedonistic retreat, it can hold its own with the best of them.