Burrow House, Broadstairs, Kent

We're on our way. 

Thursday 18.15
One of our best girlfriends raves about Broadstairs in Kent so much that Monsieur 2 and I have decided to head down for a night to see if we might fancy a longer visit sometime. Another friend who lives locally has recommended bed and breakfast Burrow House for its quiet location just off the sea-front; we arrive there after a ten minute stroll from Broadstairs station.

18.25
At the door we’re greeted warmly by dapper proprietor Gavin and shown first into what he describes as ‘your drawing room’.

It’s a bright, large room at the front of the immaculate Victorian house and we’re happy to sink into a vast velvet sofa and fill out the visitors’ book.

Gavin points out an Inspector Gadget-worthy buzzer wired into a cigar box with which he can be contacted at any time - talk about personal service!


We love a spot of gadgetry - and this is ingenious!

18.36
Gavin shows us up to our room, one of just four - the Wallace. It’s a good size, its centrepiece a beautiful Rococo-style carved king size bed; there are also a couple of very comfy looking deep-red velvet armchairs and an eye-catching ornate chandelier. The room has all the elegance of any boutique hotel we’ve stayed in, but with the personal feel of someone’s home.

Our bedroom at Burrow House features a Rococo-style carved king-size bed.

18.52
Once we’ve unpacked, we decide to head down to the beach as it’s a beautiful sunny evening. We know it can’t be far as we can just see the sea from our window! Turning left out of Burrow House, it’s a couple of minutes to the promenade and then just a few hundred metres further along - past Lillyputt Minigolf, sadly closed! - to the golden sandy sweep of Viking Bay.

Viking Bay

With the sun slowly setting and the gentle waves lapping the sand, it couldn’t be more romantic. The locals are a bohemian bunch and no-one bats an eyelid as we walk happily hand-in-hand.

19.25
Ready for a drink, we wander from the seafront and chance upon the Neptune’s Hall, what Monsieur 2 calls ‘an old man’s pub’ but I prefer to think of as ‘unspoiled’. We enjoy a pint of local Shepherd Neame ale and admire some of the photos from the annual Dickens festival which passes through the pub. Charles Dickens, Britain’s greatest ever author, was a regular visitor to Broadstairs and notably its most famous fan. His novel Bleak House was inspired by the place, and as we walk around the town we smile as we clock plenty of references to one of our favourite literary legends.

The Charles Dickens Museum

20.40
We’ve read that there are some good restaurants in the town but ever since we caught a waft of salt and vinegar as we walked down from the station we’ve been dreaming of fish and chips! We pick some up from top-notch chippy Star Of The Sea on the High Street, and take them back down to the promenade.

As we eat, night falls and the moon reflects on the water...it’s picture perfect.

21.15
As we stroll back towards Burrow House the neon sign of Morelli’s ice-cream parlour catches our eye and draws us in. There’s a huge variety of flavours of both gelato and sorbet; we can’t resist and share a cone of rhubarb and custard and mint choc chip - delicious.

Morelli's Icecream Parlour, Broadstairs

21.35
Back at Burrow House we head up to the Wallace Room, noticing on the way that stencilled lampshades cast striking shadows on the walls, a design detail that meets our approval. We make a bedtime cuppa, slip between the silky-soft covers and snuggle up to watch an old movie. Bliss.

Friday 08.00
Waking to the sound of seagulls from a very peaceful night’s sleep - the bed was super-comfy with its memory foam mattress - we start the day with a shower in our small, but pretty bathroom using the patriotic Penhaligon’s products.

08.30
We saunter downstairs to the sun-filled dining room for breakfast, collecting our complimentary Independent newspaper on the way.

A table’s been set for us by the bay window, ready with a colourful fresh fruit platter and freshly-squeezed orange juice.

Gavin used to be a chef and has even served royalty - he clearly knows how to make guests feel like it too. He personally cooks our full English, using some wonderful local produce - we both comment on the wonderful thick bacon and properly meaty sausages, and it’s all served with elegance and impeccable manners.

09.20
Although we don’t have to check out until 11.00, we bid Gavin and Burrow House goodbye as we want to spend some more time enjoying the town before our train home. Just round the corner we stop for coffee and cake at 1950s-themed Oscar’s Festival Cafe, a tiny little hut bursting with character - it feels like a community centre as much as a cafe!

We also visit some of the town’s little side streets lined with beautiful 17th century cottages, before one last stroll along the beach.

11.11
Time to board the train home, but only for now; our girlfriend was right about how brilliant Broadstairs is. We’re definitely going to come back for longer, and take in the nearby Thanet towns of Margate and Ramsgate too. When we do, we’ll certainly be very happy to return for more of the homely luxury and warm welcome of Burrow House.

Au revoir to the glorious Viking Bay

N: Burrow House
A: Granville Road, Broadstairs, Kent CT10 1QD
T: 01843 601817
E: enquiries@burrowhouse.com
W: burrowhouse.com
Our rating: ****

Hazlitt's, Soho, London

Saturday, 17.20
Before today, Monsieur 2 and I have walked past this discreet terrace of Georgian houses on Soho’s fashionable Frith Street dozens of times and always assumed that the name ‘Hazlitt’s’, painted elegantly above the door, was that of a venerable law firm, or private members’ club. But a writer friend of ours has spilled the beans and let us in on the fact that behind the dark green door lies an extremely luxurious hotel, popular with authors, actors and other creative types. Her enthusiastic recommendation was all the persuading we needed and we’ve booked ourselves in for a night.

17.25
The reception area sets the tone for the rest of the hotel; grand, formal, but friendly. The concierge beams as he tells us that our room is his favourite. He walks us along a chandelier-lit corridor to the lift, pointing out the residents’ lounge complete with honesty bar on the way.

17.29
The thirty rooms at Hazlitt’s don’t have numbers, they’re named after people who have lived at or visited this address (William Hazlitt, the great 19th century essayist, died here in 1830 giving the hotel its name). Our room is the Duke of Monmouth; I say ‘room’, but as we enter and see a staircase to our left we realise that it is in fact a suite!

Checking out the bedroom first, we’re immediately impressed by the gorgeous decor - with tapestries and oil paintings it’s certainly a room fit for a Duke!

The immense canopied bed bears the royal crest, reflecting the Duke of Monmouth’s princely blood; in the bay window, half-concealed by heavy floor-to-ceiling velvet curtains, there’s an elegant antique writing desk. There are some unobtrusive mod-cons though; mirrored panels conceal a flat-screen TV, and the heavy plush window blinds are electric. It’s the perfect balance of old and new.

Most spectacular is the enormous bathtub occupying one side of the room, watched over by a life-size bronze eagle from whose beak the water flows. We’ve never seen anything like it!

17.40
We head upstairs. There’s a comfortable lounge area (complete with chess table!), a shower room - the toilet is concealed within an actual wooden throne - and an incredible in-room bar stocked with bottles of spirits, wines and, our new favourite amenity against which all others will be judged, a champagne fridge containing full-size bottles of fine fizz!

As if we could be any more excited by our opulent digs, we open up the French windows and step out onto...our very own private roof terrace. One flick of a switch retracts the glass ceiling and opens us up to the warm evening air. We grab a bottle of bubbly from the fridge, pop the cork and relax. This really is the life.

19.05
We’re starting to get peckish. The only thing Hazlitt’s lacks is its own restaurant but this being Soho, we’re absolutely spoiled for choice. On the strength of great word-of-mouth we head for hot new ramen bar Tonkotsu on neighbouring Dean Street, where we slurp delicious bowls of rich pork broth and noodles and wash down the best kara age - fried chicken - and gyoza we’ve had in a long while with craft beers.

20.08
It wouldn’t be a night in Soho without taking in a bit of the gay scene, and right opposite Hazlitt’s is cool bar Circa. We stop in for a couple of cocktails and are tempted to stay out, but knowing that the Duke of Monmouth suite is waiting for us across the road is enough to draw us back. We love it so much we want to make the most of it!

21.46
That sumptuous bathtub is easily big enough for two; we fill it deeply, splash in some of the gorgeous REN bath oil that’s included in the generous selection, and sink in for a soak...

23.12
Time for bed. The covers are beautifully soft, the mattress is just right...it’s not long before we’re sound asleep.

Sunday 09.30
There’s a knock at the door and a maid brings in our breakfast, chosen the night before. It’s a bright morning so we take the tray out to the roof terrace. There’s a bacon sarnie for me  - good bacon, but rather dry crunchy bread - and healthy fresh fruit and granola for Monsieur 2, along with some pastries.

Compared to the supreme quality of everything else about Hazlitt’s, breakfast seems a bit ordinary, but quite frankly where else could you say you ate breakfast on a roof terrace, in morning sunshine, watched over by a full-size marble stag?!

10.55
With some reluctance, we bid au revoir to the Duke of Monmouth; it really is a remarkable suite in a hotel full of character and charm. On the way down to reception we notice a writing desk and chair set out on a landing, as if waiting for William Hazlitt to come back one day. We certainly wouldn’t blame him, as we know we will.

N: Hazlitts
A: 6 Frith Street, Soho Square, London W1D 3JA
T: +442074341771
E: reservations@hazlitts.co.uk
W: hazlittshotel.com
Our rating: ****

www.deuxmessieurs.com

Dorset Square Hotel, Marylebone, London

If shopping were an Olympic sport, Monsieur 2 would be its Michael Phelps. An essential part of his quarterly assaults on London’s boutiques is having a good hotel as base camp, somewhere to muster his strength and return to for rest and refreshment. This time we’ve chosen Dorset Square Hotel for its proximity to the chic shops of Marylebone and Bond Street.

The unassuming entrance to Dorset Square Hotel

Saturday, 14.00
As we check in, we notice there’s a cricket theme going on - arty displays of vintage bats adorn the reception area and even our key fob is in the shape of a cricket ball.

Clocking our confused expressions the receptionist explains that Dorset Square was the original site of Mr Lord’s cricket ground. We don’t normally like themed places but with a connection like that, we can see why they’ve gone with it.

14.10
Sadly the cricket theme doesn’t extend to having hunky Freddie Flintoff on the staff, but hunky concierge Yesek (swiftly nicknamed ‘Yes Yes Yesek by saucy Monsieur 2) is a good substitute. He shows us up to our room, through corridors papered in a quirky, bold vegetable-print.

14.13
Our room, 104, is small but perfectly formed.

We like the crisp, fresh red white and blue decor and cricket ball handles on the wardrobe doors.

Knobs can say a lot about a place

We also like its decor, and the accessories it comes with, and make note of the seamstress's mannequin in the corner, speculating how we shall dress it up later.

Daylight from a tall sash window overlooking the square, double-glazed to keep out traffic noise, floods the room - we can tell this is going to be a real oasis of calm.

14.20 Sustenance is important before a shopping mission so we take a peek at the mini-bar - but when we see that a bottle of Coke is £3.75 and packet of crisps, albeit gourmet ones, a stonking £3.50, we decide to leave it at just that.

Never mind - Marylebone High Street, where we’re heading anyway, has some great little delis so we’ll grab something en route.

18.11
We. Are. Exhausted. We’ve shopped, and now we are ready to drop. To give our feet time to recover, Monsieur 2 stretches out on the bed while I collapse in one of the smart armchairs to watch Indiana Jones liberating the Temple of Doom on the state-of-the-art SMART TV.

Who can resist?! (That is rhetorical only)

20.00
Time for dinner in the hotel’s The Potting Shed restaurant. Situated in the basement, this was, as its name suggests, the house’s former potting shed, and its history is tastefully reflected in its garden greens decor with shelves of plant pots housed beneath a greenhouse roof.

We love little touches like this, in the Potting Shed

It’s all very bucolic and doesn’t feel like busy central London at all.

The menu is mostly solid British classics, with some Italian dishes thrown in. We start with chicken liver parfait for Monsieur 2 - a large quenelle of it with onion marmalade, which he enjoys - and San Daniele ham with mozzarella and Heritage tomatoes for me. It’s just the sort of tasty, simple dish I was fancying.

The Potting Shed bar and restaurant at Dorset Square Hotel

Our meaty main courses of Hereford cote de boeuf - served with crisp, salty frites - and lamb cutlets with mint jelly, use excellent produce and I especially like a side order of perfect little peas and carrots.

Puddings couldn’t be more British; the treacle tart with clotted cream and raspberries for me, and gooseberry fool for Monsieur 2, are both terrific and at £4.50, as reasonable as the rest of the menu. A bottle of Colchagua Merlot washes it all down a treat. Service is lovely, the perfect balance of efficient and friendly.

10.11
Fancying a post-dinner cocktail we adjourn to the guest Drawing Room with its well-stocked honesty bar.

I rustle us up a cocktail and we lounge on the expansive sofa, feeling very grand.

10.57
Fully intending to go out on the town - Soho’s walking distance! - we head back up to Room 104, but finding that the bed’s been turned down, a gorgeous fragrant pillow spray left for us along with a bottle of mineral water each, it’s just too tempting not to slip between the Frette sheets...

Sunday 08.26
Boy have we slept well - the bed was super-comfy and the room so calm. Time for a wake-up cuppa while we read the complimentary Sunday paper that’s been left outside our door. But hang on - there’s no tea and coffee supplied in the room, something we’ve not encountered before! Oh well. We debate ordering breakfast in bed, but decide to crack on with the day, throw on some clothes and head down to The Potting Shed.

08.40
The restaurant’s even prettier filled with morning sunlight than it was at dusk. Thought’s clearly gone into the menu as far as nutrition goes, with low GI options and egg-white omelettes on offer. But that's not what we're after - so we tuck in to an estimable full English, with plenty of the tea we’ve been craving, and a glass of freshly squeezed juice - watermelon, in my case, which makes a refreshing change.

09.36
The shower in our grey-marble tiled bathroom has a powerful massage setting which pummels out the last few knots left from yesterday’s retail marathon, and Miller Harris products leave us smelling like champions.

We’ve a while until we have to check out so we slip into our towelling-lined waffle bathrobes, sprawl on the bed and try to decide what we’re going to wear first from yesterday’s spoils.

11.00
Check-out time, and as we step out into Dorset Square, waved warmly on our way by Yes Yes Yesek, we can almost hear the sound of leather on willow where cricketers once played. We might not be maidens, but Dorset Square Hotel’s welcome and service have certainly bowled us over.

N: Dorset Square Hotel
A: 39-40 Dorset Square, Marylebone, London NW1 6QN
T: +44 207 7723 7874
E: dorset@firmdale.com
W: firmdalehotels.com/london/dorset-square-hotel

Our rating:****

The George in Rye

Friday 14.54 We know we’re going to like Rye the moment we arrive. The Edwardian station, with its wooden signal box on stilts, is straight out of The Railway Children. It’s a few minutes’ walk up the hill to the High Street and our hotel for the night, The George.

Rye station feels like it's straight out of the Railway Children

15.02
The imposing, beautifully preserved main building of The George was once a coaching inn, built in 1575. It doesn’t take much imagination to picture horse-drawn carriages depositing their passengers at the grand entrance.

The George has a Gorgeous Pistachio Exterior

The reception, with its plush chairs, formal desks and exposed timbers, maintains the sense of grandeur but it’s welcoming, not intimidating.

15.10
All checked in we’re shown to our room. Over time The George's owners have acquired outbuildings and even a complete detached house and converted them into bedrooms, all connected by beautiful shaded courtyards.

The Courtyard sits between the outbuildings at The George

With views over the tiled rooftops of Rye, it almost feels like a self-contained village.

15.14

Colourful and playful in Room 45.

We're in room 45, tucked away up its own private staircase. As we enter, we’re charmed by the colourful decor. One wall is papered in bold, but not overwhelming so, flock wallpaper, and its bands of bright hues are picked out in the upholstery and ornaments of the generous space around us.

Man's best friend keeps guard from the mantelpiece

Classic FM is playing on the Tivoli radio by the bed and a perfect shiny apple awaits us on the sideboard.

We’re impressed.

15.27
Monsieur 2 always likes a cuppa when we check into a hotel and is pleased to find top-quality Teapigs teas in the caddy. Boiling the kettle is a bit of a challenge; the placing of sockets around the room is a little haphazard, but it’s no big deal, and it’s soon steaming away.

16.00
We head out into the town - no need for a map, we just wander. Rye is really beautiful; there are loads of lovely little artsy-craftsy and antique shops clustered down by the quayside and 16th century cottages line the quiet cobbled lanes.

A large cannon (with balls) but no sign of Cher

There’s even a tiny castle, its cannon still pointing out to sea a reminder of Rye’s historical status as one of the powerful Cinque Ports.

18.03
Back at The George we decide to freshen up before dinner. In our large bathroom there’s a charming tin bath - very Dickensian! - but it looks barely big enough for one Monsieur never mind two, so we take a shower in the huge tiled shower room instead, happily noting the complimentary REN products.

19.30
We’re shown to a great corner table in The Grill and take in the attractive room. Done out in countryside greens with some bold art on the walls it feels modern but unpretentious. As is the menu; divided simply into Starters, From The Grill, From The Sea and Steak-Frites, it’s attentive to locality and seasonality.

To start I have roasted tomato soup, often a boring choice but not here - it’s smoky and subtly spicy, and in the middle there’s a mound of dressed crab on a crouton - the combination of flavours is unusual but works brilliantly.

Msr 2's grilled gambas comes to the table sizzling, the butter bubbling away

I’m envious, though, of Monsieur 2’s amazing main course; five huge prawns, cooked on the white-hot Josper grill and brought to the table in a cast-iron skillet, swimming in bubbling garlic- and chilli-rich butter. Begrudgingly he lets me try one and it’s gorgeous - sweet, salty, spicy...and messy!

Stylish simplicity: marinaded cherries with yoghurt sorbet, served in a frosted Martini glass.

We share a refreshing pudding of marinaded cherries with yoghurt sorbet which, served in a frosted Martini glass, looks as good as it tastes. All in all it’s a fantastic meal; there are clearly some very talented people in the kitchen here.

21.45
The bar, The George Tap, has the feel of a cosy country pub even though it sits within the hotel.

It’s busy with locals but we manage to find a corner to cuddle up in for a nightcap.

Cosy corners - perfect for a cheeky night-cap

It’s open 24 hours for guests, a real rarity, but we’re drowsy from dinner so decide it’s time for bed.

22.27
We get back to the room to find the bed’s been turned down and the curtains drawn for us, so all we have to do is brush our teeth and fall into bed...

Saturday 08.57
We wake to the sound of seagulls having slept really deeply - the beautiful Frette bed linen was soft as silk and the bed so huge that at times we both wondered if there really was a second Monsieur in there with us!

09.20
We dress and go downstairs to the restaurant for breakfast. There’s a huge selection of baked goods and cereals as well as a full English or lighter hot options (eggs Benedict, boiled eggs and soldiers...) - we choose smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. Our hot food arrives before we've even finished drizzling our gorgeous nutty granola in honey; the speed of arrival suggests it’s not cooked to order, which is surprising given the attention to detail at supper. Tasty though!

10.41
Time to check out and we can tell that the staff really mean it when they say they hope we’ve enjoyed our stay. We certainly have; The George is a great hotel in a beautiful town that we’ve fallen just a little bit in love with.

Rye is very picturesque

As we stroll back along the cobbled streets to the station, it doesn’t just feel like we’re leaving another place, but another time.

N: The George in Rye
A: 98 High Street  Rye, East Sussex, TN31 7JT
T: 01797 222114
E: stay@thegeorgeinrye.com
W: thegeorgeinrye.com
Our rating: 4*