It’s small, not too well known, not too busy, but boy, it’s glam. In other words, hurry to Turkbuku before it becomes too St Tropez for its own good.

The little fishing village on the north coast of the Bodrum peninsula is like a mini St Trop: yachts in the harbour, white-clad waiting staff in the bars and an abundance of beautiful people to pretend you’re not watching. (Uma Thurman is a fan.)

Head to Mio beach, where the Na Na beach club looks as if it’s been recently transplanted straight from Miami, and bag a day bed overlooking the rugged coastline and the Black Sea. If that’s getting busy, try Maki beach bar (makihotel.com.tr), which is a touch more sophisticated, with dining tables practically on the water and a snack bar that doesn’t open until midnight, ideal for those all-nighters.

If you’re the sort who struggles to be satisfied with just the one bar in your bar, you’ll appreciate the effort Turquoise (turquoisebeachclub.com) has taken to provide three. The main one is raised and circular, with the DJ booth in the middle, like the sweet strawberry jam in a Jammie Dodger.

It’s not all about posing here at the largest beach club in Italy, though — actually, it might be all about posing, as there’s also a designated pre-disco gym where you can hone the guns before the evening’s showdown. Elsewhere, you’ll find stacks of sun loungers, a restaurant with candle-lit private rooms and — get this — digital fingerprint payment systems, so you can make like James Bond and swipe your pawprint, rather than having to carry all that uncouth cash around.

Finding a beach party in Ibiza should be like looking for hay in a haystack, but the crackdown on music licences and opening hours means you have to work a bit harder for your fun these days. Playa d’en Bossa, the beach resort that is home to the world’s most famous nightclub, Space, is still the place to go. Further up the beach from Bora Bora beach club — which is still just as bonkers as ever — are a bunch of new bars that are a touch more refined. If you’ve had enough of the attitude of the staff at the Blue Marlin in Cala Jondal, try the brand-new but already popular Sands (sandsibiza.com), owned by Jason Bull, who runs Es Vive hotel and the Base bar, in Ibiza town, or Ushuaia (ushuaiaibiza.com), with its minimalist decor, decent food and smiley bartenders (gasp).

If you feel the need to clear the head while in Amsterdam, there are two good-sized beach resorts less than half an hour outside the Dutch capital where you can get a lug of sea air. Zandvoort is the largest, but it’s Bloemendaal aan Zee that wins the style points, with its mix of beach bars, restaurants and clubs done out with palms, buddhas and sofas, where you can be as lively or laidback as you please. Bloomingdale (bloomingdaleaanzee.com) is a good place to start, with a wooden pavilion/lounge vibe, before heading to Republiek (republiekbloemendaal.nl) for a more boisterous atmosphere.

Just up the road from snooty Biarritz lies Hossegor, a town created for tourism in 1900 that has become one of Europe’s premier surf spots. As a year-round magnet for surfers, it follows that Hossegor has a reputation for enjoying a party or two.

The action revolves around Dick’s Sand Bar (dicks-sand-bar.com), but not until gone 10. There are clubs in town, but those in the know take the shuttle bus to Le Safari, in Seignosse, five miles up the coast.

Over the past three years, this little port district, a few minutes from the centre of Palma, has had a hell of a makeover. A new promenade means that long-limbed, tanned specimens have a prime Rollerblading circuit, and bars have popped up to keep them lubricated. New this year is the Nassau beach club (nassaubeachclub.com) — which also has a branch in Playa d’en Bossa, on Ibiza. It has an excellent menu and a monster cocktail list, to be enjoyed on a beach bed overlooking the ocean and the cathedral. The partying kicks off in the afternoon, with blissful deep house keeping things suitably sexy.

By day, Croyde is a chocolate box, with thatched cottages, swaying hollyhocks and a babbling brook flowing down St Mary’s Road. Then, as the sun goes down, the surfers come ashore and the party starts. Ground zero is The Thatch, the village pub joined, via its beer garden, to the even rowdier Billy Budds, rammed to the rafters with sunburnt revellers living the dream. The truth is that Croyde’s waves are rather lame in the summer, attracting enthusiastic beginners rather than serious watermen, but the party scene, spilling out of the pubs, pausing for the weekly reggae sessions in the Church Hall before drifting back down to the beach, makes up for it.

How this fun-loving city of nocturnal party animals — its mascot is the bat — functions as a regional capital when nobody goes out before midnight or to bed before eight is a mystery, but it’s a lot of fun. The beach scene centres on La Malvarrosa, where there’s an outpost of Café del Mar for evening action and daytime recovery.

By the early hours you might check out Eugenia Viñes street, where at least half a dozen clubs — Monocle is our favourite — vie for your attention, but the best action is on the beach, where groups of locals bring beats and booze to establish their own little dance clubs.

Tylosand, a village near Halmstad on Sweden’s west coast, has a growing beach party scene. Head to the Hotel Tylosand, on the beach, where you can spa yourself serene in the morning before livening up again in the afternoon. In fact, they take the livening pretty seriously here — the après-beach party starts just after lunch.

Speaking of which, if you’re feeling peckish, a few minutes’ stroll away is the barbecue buffet at Punch, where you can tuck into a vast collection of ribs, salmon, prawns and salads. If you think you’ve overdone it on the cocktails, and are suddenly seeing twin hunks everywhere, relax. Freddie Ljungberg, the former Arsenal and Sweden midfielder, and part-time pants model, is a regular: his brother, Filip, works there.

The three miles of golden sands, backed by a maze of dunes and framed by the intriguing Burry Holms Island to the north and the jutting outcrop of the Worm’s Head to the south, are all very well, but it’s the gentle, consistent beach break that brings the crowds to this magnificent beach at the business end of the Gower peninsula.

There’s a special vibe to Llangennith, where sessions in the Kings Head, the village’s only pub, are continued long into the summer nights around campfires in the dunes, where on a full moon naked surfers have been spotted.