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: ****

Zanzibar, Hastings

Thursday, 18.47 It’s tipping down with rain as our train pulls in, late, at St Leonard's Warrior Square station. It’s such a short walk - just across the Square and along the promenade - to Zanzibar, our hotel for the night, that we decide to forego a taxi.

She's not amused and at first, nor are we

But we still get soaked, and miserable; on the way we pass a statue of a very glum-looking Queen Victoria and like Her Majesty we're not amused either.

18.52 All cares are forgotten though the moment we arrive at Zanzibar. We’re greeted with a warm “Ah, I’ve been expecting you!” by duty manager Monica and given a quick show-round.

The decor’s very calming; the well-travelled owners have collected beautiful sculptures, religious artefacts and furniture from around the world and we spot many a quiet corner that would be perfect for meditation. 

Monica also points out the library of books and DVDs, from which we’re invited to help ourselves any time, and then taken upstairs to our room.

19.00 The eight rooms at Zanzibar take their names from favourite places the owners have been; ours is South America. It's fabulous, two rooms knocked into one, divided by a theatrical ceiling-to-floor curtain. On one side there’s the sleeping and living area, with a huge wooden bed and a dining table by the sash window looking out to sea. There’s even a telescope! 

To watch the boys go by!

The other side resembles our own private spa, with an immense bath tub, his-and-his limestone sinks, loads of full-size Elemis products and super-fluffy towels, robes and slippers. The only thing we don’t love is that there’s no door on the loo, it’s just tucked away in a corner; Monsieur 2 and I love each other very much and share most things, but there’s a line.

The bath is huge. And has Elemis goodies. Love.

19.10 We’ve been asked to choose what we’d like for breakfast from a lengthy menu and bring it down when we go for dinner. There’s no indication of what the supplements are for Champagne, or for having breakfast in bed, and then we realise why - there aren’t any. It’s all included! Neither of us can think of anywhere we’ve stayed where bubbly at breakfast comes as standard!

19.46 We change and go downstairs to the hotel restaurant Pier Nine, where another pleasant surprise awaits us -  a complimentary welcome drink! As we sip our G&Ts we choose from the modern bistro menu.

Monsieur 2 starts with fantastic crisp seafood fritto misto while I enjoy a fiddly-to-eat but delicious combination of dressed crab with potted shrimps. For our main courses I see off a good quality, if slightly dry, rare breed pork chop with mini jacket potatoes; Monsieur 2’s rib eye steak is on the blue side of rare but he decides to persevere and it’s terrific, especially dipped into the tangy red wine gravy.

Puddings - salted caramel ice cream with roasted mango puree, and Baileys arctic roll - are lick-the-plate-clean perfect. It’s been a lovely meal; with the room’s bright pastel colours and driftwood furniture, coupled with the sea view, it’s felt like eating in our own private beach-house.  

Friendly, playful service from L.A.-born waitress Jackie has been a hoot, and at just £40 each it’s one of the best, and best-value, meals we’ve had in quite a while. 

21.40
Back in the South America room we slip into the super-comfy bed and cuddle up to watch a DVD from the library - Shakespeare In Love suits our romantic mood and we fall asleep happily afterwards...  Friday 08.30
A blissful start to the day - a lovely soak in the bath with my free newspaper (another complimentary item that’s usually charged for!) Stapled to the front is the day’s weather forecast and suggestions for what to do in the town - so thoughtful!

Forecast for the day: fun and sun!

09.30
On the dot of the requested time, there’s a knock on the door and breakfast’s brought in. What a feast! 

Just the first part of our brilliant breakfast.

Great granola, juicy fresh fruit, Hastings kipper with melted butter and a poached egg for me and a full English for Monsieur 2, along with freshly-squeezed juice, tea and of course that decadent glass of bubbly. This really is the life.

Kipper for breakfast - delicious!

We fool around with our telescope watching the sea - and boys - from our window.

10.59

We know we’ve really liked somewhere when we wait until the very last minute to leave, and that’s exactly what we do at Zanzibar.

We’ve loved the warmth of welcome from all the staff, the sense of tranquility and escape, and the generosity of having so much included in the room rate that would be extra elsewhere. As we step out onto the promenade, the sun now shining in contrast to yesterday’s rain, we’re already talking about when we can come back again.

N: Zanzibar International Hotel A: 9 Eversfield Place, St Leonards-On-Sea, Hastings, East Sussex TN37 6BY

W: www.zanzibarhotel.co.uk

T: 01424 460109

E: info@zanzibarhotel.co.uk
Our rating: *****

The Hoxton Urban Lodge, Hoxton, East London

Shoreditch, London
Monsieur and I love the nightlife of London’s edgy East End but not the epic journey home, so just for once we’ve decided to treat ourselves to a night in a hotel. The Hoxton on Great Eastern Street is a great location, runs regular £1 sales on rooms, and bills itself as an ‘Urban Lodge’ - a home away from home. Perfect, we thought, let's give it a try.

Friday, 6.35
Entering from the street, The Hoxton feels more like a cool club than a hotel - the lobby is teeming with people, mostly trendy Shoreditch types but quite a few City suits too. At the Reception desk we’re greeted by a friendly jeans-clad girl who runs through what’s included in our (very reasonable, pre-paid online) room rate: WiFi, an hour’s UK landline calls and a light Pret breakfast. Amazing!

6.42

Oh how we needed that bed

The leather-lined lift sets the tone for the rest of the hotel - sexy, dark, a little louche. As we get out on the fifth floor and make our way along the moodily-lit corridor it feels like we’re in a David Lynch movie. Our room is large, light and plush without being luxurious, feeling more like a private apartment than a hotel.

Cute notes around our room - we don't mind if we do!

We’re certainly made to feel at home by the quirky signs around the room; they’re more like the kind of helpful Post-Its a friend would leave you than the usual stiff instructions we see in hotels.


Another homely touch is the free mineral water and fresh milk in the fridge to which we’re cheerfully encouraged to ‘Just help yourself’. We like.

7.00
The view out over the City is superb but we don’t have too long to enjoy it - we’re booked in for dinner at Hoxton Grill downstairs. The restaurant is located off the lobby of The Hoxton but is operated by Soho House Group, and it shows in both the decor (which reminds us of the dining room at Soho House Berlin) and the super-polished but informal service. The menu’s great, a selection of modern American diner favourites with some brasserie classics.

Loved the Hoxton Grill, and our flirt with the waiter

Monsieur 2 keeps it simple with tomato soup followed by steak and chips, both excellent - the soup flecked with shreds of fresh basil, the steak a 10oz rump cooked exactly medium-rare just how he likes it. I try salt beef hash - thick slices of good beef on a fat potato cake, topped with a poached egg - and tiger prawn and chorizo gumbo. I love the glossy, spicy sauce and huge shell-on prawns, but I’m not convinced that the slices of thin sausage aren’t frankfurter rather than chorizo. We’re glad we let our gorgeous, flirty waiter talk us into dessert; the raspberry ripple cheesecake and ultra-decadent banana fudge sundae are fantastic.

9.08
Stuffed and a little drowsy we decide to revive with a shower back in our room. The sleek slate-tiled bathroom has a gorgeous rainfall shower, just what we need to bring us back to life before heading out into the night...

9.40
The gay scene in this part of London is small but perfectly formed and as edgily unconventional as the area’s fashionable population. We start off at the George & Dragon on Hackney Road, a bric-a-brac stuffed pub playing great music, then move on to the Nelson’s Head up the road. Finally we head for The Joiners Arms, the cool, grimy bar-club. We love the place and only stagger out when the lights go up.

3.16 (ahem)

Quirky touches around our room made us feel right at home

Staying at The Hox was definitely a good idea - we’re falling into bed fifteen minutes after leaving The Joiners not the usual hour-plus. Looks like we’re not the only ones to have sampled the area’s nocturnal delights - many doors on our corridor are displaying the fun ‘Go Away!’ swing-tags and there’s some serious moaning-and-groaning coming from a few doors down...



Saturday, 10.20

Our Breakfast Bags were very welcome first thing.

Thank God we only have to reach out the door to their dedicated hook for our breakfast bags. Granola, juice and a banana, plus fresh coffee from the in-room selection, take the edge off our hangovers.

11.17
After a long shower, we’re feeling human again and decide to brave the journey home. Checking out, we realise it’s only the second time we’ve needed to interact with The Hoxton’s staff as guests are left so completely to their own devices. It’s in keeping with the home-from-home ethos but maybe feels a little impersonal.

11.23
As we leave, the lobby’s just as buzzing as when we arrived; The Hoxton rocks right around the clock. We’ll certainly consider it for our next night out up East and definitely be back for more fab food and flirting with the staff at Hoxton Grill.

N: The Hoxton
T: 020 75501000
A: 81 Great Eastern Street, London, EC2A 3HU
W: hoxtonhotels.com
Our rating:

Join us on Twitter: @deuxmessieurs
Learn more about The Hoxton's £1 sales at hoxtonhotels.com

Burgh Island, Bigby-on-Sea, Devon

Wednesday, 12.47am
Monsieur 2 –  was devouring an Agatha Christie last night, giving me 10-minute updates on whether he thought the Major was stabbed with a hatpin by Simon Thomkins Minor or the mousy little Vicar. I pointed out that modern-day Britain is as much about bodies in libraries as France is about bicycle-riding men with striped T-shirts and onion necklaces. He wouldn’t have a bar of it, and stuck his head back in his paperback and refused to discuss the demise of national pride – until I told him it was the frosty housekeeper who dunnit. He flung the book across the room and stormed into the garden. Actually, I had no idea who the evil perpetrator of the crime was. Frankly, I just didn’t like the sound of the housekeeper.

4.10pm
He eventually came around ­– although he now classes me in the same camp as serial murderers, apparently – and we are now bombing down the motorway towards the West Country. Now, I'd always thought Monsieur’s interest in antiques tailed off after around 1902, but he was getting extremely excited about the Art Deco hotel he had booked. Jo and Susannah have been raving about its polished floors and doorknobs ever since their visit last summer. According to them the 1920s atmosphere and sea views are a real throwback to silk dressing gowns, flappers and Agatha Christie. And they were right!

Burgh Island Hotel

Our first glimpse was magical. The hotel broods – yes, broods – like a grand cruise liner off the coast on its own island, all white and shimmering. Apparently it was built just before the Wall Street crash in 1929, and is now Grade II listed for its Art Deco accoutrements. One of the joys of the place is that you leave your car in a private garage on the mainland and they pick you up on a sea tractor. In our case, it was a Land Rover as the sea tractor had developed technical problems.

5.30pm
Check-in at reception was effortlessness, and made Monsieur 2 and I muse: just when did elegance and travel take different roads? We followed the bellhop up the grand staircase, rather regally in Monsieur 2’s case as he'd decided to don a linen suit for the occasion, but after nearly five hours of travel, it had become somewhat creased.

I picked out a hazelnut whirl from the box we'd brought for the journey, and Monsieur 2 negotiated a coffee cream, in that peculiarly suspicious way of his.

Our bedroom - Fruity Metcalfe

Then we explored. Painted and furnished in typical 1930s style, our bedroom - Fruity Metcalfe - was rose pink and black, with a few contemporary tweaks like under-floor heating, REN toiletries, and fluffy white bathrobes which hung in the enormous bathroom.

Art Deco Bathroom, with Modern Extras!

To stay as true to the period as possible, there’s no audio-visual system and no WiFi, no mini bar or tea or coffee making facilities. If you want something, they will bring it to you. On a large silver tray.
There’s no getting away from the fact that this place is fabulous, with a capital F; there’s a bit of peeling paint and rust here and there, but it adds to the soul of the place. If you prefer the pristine or replica the real McCoy, this isn’t for you; if you love atmosphere and authenticity, get down the M5 tout de suite.

Back in the '30s, they had radio, fine wine and conversation. This is precisely how we intend to entertain ourselves: the old fashioned way. And our westward facing balcony which overlooks the mainland, is just the place to start.

11.08pm
We sipped on our Midnight Martinis, brilliantly prepared by Gary, and tucked into complimentary hors d’oeuvres in the cocktail lounge, looking, if I might add, sensational. Dressing for dinner is encouraged by the Burgh Hotel, and we weren't going to disappoint! Monsieur 2 looked a picture in a splendid white tux and, I stunning in a Favourbrook silk waistcoat (they use the same material to make bishop’s robes don't you know!) and a white jacket, for real James Bond appeal. The other guests looked frightfully gentrified, and thankfully we didn’t stand out.

Dinner was wonderful, and since it’s included in the cost of the room, we feasted on a superb three-course meal, which included flavoursome beetroot soup, followed by melt-in-the-mouth lamb for me, and slow roasted fillet of beef for Msr 2. Portions were generous, and whilst Msr 2 admitted defeat after the second course, I refused, and ordered Baked Alaska with two spoons. With jazz setting the mood in the background, it couldn't have been more romantic, and although we’re unconvinced about the jazz-style mural that graces the wall, but the food makes up for any aberrations in taste. The menu changes daily and is dictated by the morning market, which means everything is fresh, fresh, fresh, and totally unpredictable. Just the way we like it.

Thursday, 9.43am
Our orange juice, tea and coffee arrived on a silver tray, and so we languished in bed with the paper. Monsieur 2 has resurrected the dog-earred Agatha Christie, and has just shouted ‘Aha!’. I've been grassed!

10.14am
It wasn’t the dominatrix housekeeper who dunnit at all, but the newly-married young girl who had had an affair with the squire’s gamekeeper or understairs cleaning wench. Well, Monsieur 2 was delighted nonetheless, and dragged me out of bed for a long ramble along the Southwest coastal path. Handily, it brushes right past the hotel’s front door. He pointed out different varieties of sea birds to me (I assumed they were all seagulls or close relations) and we walked hand-in-hand on the edge of the sand.

2.15pm
We flung ourselves into a snug in the Pilchard Inn, a cosy, atmospheric place that dates back to the 1330s, when fisherman would return from their pilchard fishing. The log fire was the focal point for locals who walked over the estuary with their dogs for a pint and a crab or bacon baguette. Rustic. Rurual. Lovely.

For some bizarre reason, we decided to try out the open-air swimming pool down by the rocks. Why did we not think it would be freezing? We ventured out to the little wooden platform in the middle, but Monsieur 2 thought I was going to have a heart attack and assumed the rescue position to haul me back to shore. The heavens opened, and we made a dignified retreat to the 'Day Room' for a few hands of poker. We weakened, and the waiter brought a bottle of wine, an ice bucket, and an extra bucket to catch drips of rain from the ceiling!

Burgh Island Hotel
T: 01548 810514
E: reception@burghisland.com
W: burghisland.com
A: Burgh Island Hotel, Burgh Island, Bigby-on-Sea, DevonTQ7 4BG
Our rating: ****+