What happened when I spent the night on a millionaire’s private party island?

Fifteen minutes from the mainland, an imposing one-storey structure rises out of the rocks ahead, surrounded by swooping seagulls. Party playground? This looks more like a cross between
a Bond villain’s lair and a smuggler’s haunt. ‘A Bond villain’s lair hasn’t got anything on Thorne,’ Mike says.

There’s no time to quibble. We are racing against the setting sun to experience Thorne in all its glory at sunset. Mike deftly steers the boat close to a flight of slippery stone steps,…