Now here’s a funny thing. Millions of us go for country walks in Britain. The first sniff of spring and we’re off in search of the nearest bit of green and slopy scenery, to get some mud on our boots, some hair on our chest and a double-nostril dose of wholesome rustic air.

So how come, when we take our “proper” holidays, we tend to keep the landscape at arm’s length? Timeworn Tuscan pilgrim paths, Mallorcan muleteer tracks, Canarian mountain trails ... they may look enticing — there is probably one passing right outside our villa — but we never quite get round to setting foot on them.

The reason is clear: these trackways are routes into the unknown. There are no familiar yellow fingerposts on the ground or neat orange dashes on the map to reassure us that we’ll ever make it back to civilisation in one piece.

That’s a great pity, because there’s no better way to engage with a region, to bump into its curious countryfolk and tuck into their strange and wonderful food, than by lacing on your sturdiest footwear and striding across it. All you need is the right map, a decent guidebook and a little direction to get you started.

So we’ve found four destinations that are perfect for a quick-hit walking break in spring: places where the footpaths are fine, the sun smiles and the low-season locals will be especially chuffed to see you. If you can’t drop everything and go now, they’re just as great for exploring in autumn.

No need to pack crampons and compass, and no need to pay through the nostrils for a fancy itinerary from a specialist tour operator. With our step-by- step guide, including inexpensive flights and characterful hotels, you can plan a life-affirming long weekend on foot for yourself.

The Cote d'Azur

WHETHER YOU’RE in Jimmy Choos or Chris Brashers, there’s nowhere more wham-bam glam for a weekend break than Nice. Jump off the plane, grab a cab to town and feel the warmth of spring roll off the Med and soak you through. The sea, the sky, the palaces, the people — everything seems to sparkle.

Between Nice and Monte Carlo, the blinding-white limestone foothills of the Alpes Maritimes charge right down to the shore and chuck themselves in for a dip. For the price of a picnic and a bus ticket, you can walk among millionaires at Cap Ferrat and Cap Martin, the ritziest addresses on the Riviera, and imagine you are Cary Grant or Grace Kelly in To Catch a Thief.

For a bird’s-eye view of the jet set, though, you need to get up on the pine-lined summits, where the sun spears off every boulder and your footsteps squeeze the perfume out of wild rosemary, mint and thyme. Away to the north are Mercantour Alps, all snow-capped and Swiss-looking; the nearer skyline is pimpled with forgotten forts and Provençal villages teetering on cones of rock.

On top of all that, walkers on the crest get to look down on Prince Rainier’s palace in Monaco. Vivid views of the Med are never far away, and from up here in the gods, even the most show-off yacht looks very insignificant indeed.

The walks: begin with a movie-star meander around Cap Ferrat, crinkled with romantic coves. Bus 111 from Nice deposits you in snob central, St-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, where you can indulge in a little yacht-spotting before circling the peninsula on a seaside “walkway”. This is as much catwalk as coastal path, with lots of mileage for giggling at superchic joggers and high-heeled ladies being taken for walks by their poodles. It’s five easy miles in all. En route, climb the lighthouse for a peek into the millionaires’ gardens and detour to the Villa Ephrussi, a belle-époque museum stuffed with decorative art.