The Neo, B+B, Brighton

Wednesday
We never need an excuse for a trip to Brighton, but when a friend of ours lands a part in a play at the famous Theatre Royal we know we have to be there for opening night, and since we’re invited to the cast party we decide to make a night of it and stay over. A quick look online turns up The Neo, which appears to tick all the right boxes.

16.15
It takes us 15 minutes to walk to The Neo from Brighton station, which is just outside the city centre.

On the way we pass colourful fruit and veg stalls, a stern statue of Queen Victoria, and a myraid of quirky boutiques. It's all so marvellously British, and sums up the eccentricity of this lovely seaside resort. 

And so it continues inside The Neo - the first thing we see when we enter is a huge stag’s head mounted on the wall – we love a bit of taxidermy!

16.18
As we check-in, we're surprised to be told that The Neo’s unstaffed between 9.00pm and 8.30am, but we are given our own front door key and we can come and go as we please.

16.25
We’re shown up to our room - No. 5, a well-proportioned double on the second floor.

A feature wall is papered in a striking black and metallic Japanese floral pattern, complementing black Chinese furniture, and the bed has a dramatic headboard in pale suede. Sash windows let abundant daylight in and the overall effect’s very smart and inviting.

16.35
It’s a hot day so we decide to freshen up in the minimally-chic, black mosaic-tiled shower. The shower head’s a bit loose and leaky but with some contortions we both manage a good hot soaking.

There’s no faulting the big fluffy towels though, and we like the waffle bathrobes too. We’re also impressed by the huge double-ended bath – taps in the middle! – surely designed with deux messieurs in mind.

17.50
Glad-rags on, we head out for a bite to eat. A ten minute stroll along the prom takes us to the Brighton branch of Little Bay, one of our favourite London mini-chains.

18.00
We’re shown up a staircase to a fabulous cantilevered balcony where our table awaits. We sip cocktails – my Margarita is excellent – while we wait for our food to come. Little Bay's prices are incredibly low – except for a few specials - starters are under £3 and main courses under £6 – but there’s no compromising on quality.

My goat’s cheese in filo pastry starter is wonderful; but with his sirloin steak and goose fat chips Monsieur 2 has the better main course - my plaice fillet stuffed with crab is good but needs seasoning.

There's a good choice of wines by the glass, and our bill for two with drinks and a tip is under £40! If only we’d left time for dessert, but the theatre beckons...

22.30
Show over, we head off to the cast party at stylish cabaret pub 112 Church Street (we love its little patio garden) before hitting the gay scene. Most of Brighton’s most popular bars are along the seafront, and we end up in bar/club Legends until the wee small hours.

02.11
Stumbling happily back to The Neo, we collapse into the splendidly comfortable 5’ bed. It’s been a long night and we need our sleep!

09.48
Waking bleary-eyed we head down to elegant sun-filled breakfast room ready for a fry-up. But disaster – we had been told, but had forgotten, that breakfast’s only served until 9.30, which strikes us as rather early especially for somewhere aimed firmly at holiday-makers rather than early-rising business people. A waitress takes pity on us and manages to rustle us up some granola, orange juice and a pot of coffee. Phew.

10.20
Back in room 5 we decide that a long soak in that giant tub will put us right. We can't remember when check out is and no-one’s answering the phone at reception so we take a gamble on it being around 11 o’clock (it's actually 11.30) and relax and splash around until it’s nearly time to go. Perfect!

11.05
Waved on our way by the receptionist we head for the train; walking along Queen’s Road, the main route up from the seafront to the station, we spot Cocoa, a lovely French cafe-patisserie where we enjoy wonderful coffee and some ham and cheese croissants - oh how we needed that carbs-and-fat fix. We also can’t resist taking away a few of their incredible macaroons which are the best we’ve tasted anywhere, including France!

12.19
We're smiling as the train pulls out of Brighton; we’ve had a great time in one of our favourite places, and even if The Neo wasn’t quite as plush and the service not quite as attentive as it is in some places we’ve stayed, it was a good-value base for a night, we’d be glad to recommend.

N: The Neo Hotel (Bed and Breakfast)
T: 01273 711 104
A: 19 Oriental Place, Brighton, BN1 2LL
E: info@neohotel.com
Our rating: ***+

Stratton's Hotel, Swaffham, Norfolk

Sunday 16.00 When by happy coincidence a planned visit to Monsieur 1’s family in Norfolk coincided with Monsieur 2’s birthday, we decided to extend the weekend and treat ourselves to a night somewhere fabulous after our few days en famille. We asked around for recommendations and one name kept coming up - Stratton’s.

Strattons Hotel

Tucked away up a narrow close off the market place which Swaffham is known for, Stratton’s resembles a small country estate - an imposing main villa, a couple of attractive outbuildings and a cafe-delicatessen, all within immaculate landscaped grounds. It feels delightfully secluded, despite being in the heart of the town. We’re immediately relaxed  - and we’ve not even checked in yet.

The Red Room has an open fire and a private courtyard garden

16.05

A couldn’t-be-friendlier receptionist, Michaela, welcomes us and walks us through a comfortably-furnished lounge - where one of the hotel’s three adorable resident cats is curled up peacefully on a chair - and shows us to The Red Room. We gasp as we walk in; it’s amazing. There’s a vast oak four-poster bed on a dais, a lounge area, a tea table with armchairs, a library for goodness’sake...I rack my brain to think of where I’ve seen a bedroom this opulent before, and then it comes to me: Chatsworth. When Michaela says “And here’s the key to your private courtyard garden” I’m already wishing we’d booked more than one night.

16.12
We make tea, slump on one of the three sofas and put our feet up. While Monsieur 2 flicks through the TV channels and logs the iPad onto the free WiFi, I read the hotel guide to find out what amenities there are. It turns out there’s no bar in the hotel although drinks are available from the (well-stocked) mini-bar or in the lounge; instead we decide to stroll around Swaffham and find a pub.

16.45

Bustling during the week and on market day, Saturday, today there’s hardly a soul to be seen in Swaffham. We head to The Greyhound (which appears in the TV series Kingdom) for a pint; it’s not exactly welcoming so we drink up quickly, grab a bottle of wine from the one open shop and head back to the haven of The Red Room.

18.20

Plush Bathtime Pleasures

With plenty of time before dinner we decide to take advantage of the 7’ roll-top bath in the bonkers tented bathroom (it looks like something out of Cleopatra) as it’s rare to find a tub long enough to comfortably accommodate both messieurs. We soak and soothe until our toes turn wrinkly, then dry ourselves off and dress for dinner.

20.00

It’s just a few steps from our room to The Rustic, Stratton’s restaurant. We’re greeted warmly by restaurant manager Charlie and given a table by the open fire. A fabulous meal follows; chef Sam uses only the best local produce and it shows. Monsieur 2’s leek and potato soup is creamy and seasoned just right while my duck pastrami and turnip sauerkraut is a clever riff on a Reuben sandwich. We then tuck into a Swannington beef burger - served with decadent ‘thrice cooked dripping chips’ and home-made ketchup - and sea trout with lovely, salty King’s Lynn cockles. To finish, I have ‘Millionaire’s shortbread’, a delicious deconstructed version of my favourite bakery treat, while Monsieur 2 polishes off a rhubarb trifle. To drink, how can we resist a bottle of The Rustic’s house wine - Domaine Gayda?

Oh Strattons

Fit for a ...

22.30

Thank goodness we don’t have far to stagger - we’re stuffed, not to mention a little tipsy. Back in The Red Room we draw the thick heavy curtains and climb into our luxurious four-poster.

Monday 09.07

We’ve slept like two particularly contented logs and after a cuppa to wake us up it’s back to The Rustic for breakfast. As well as self-service cereals and granola, some home-made, we’re given a choice of cooked breakfasts and go for the full English. Everything’s as good as dinner the night before, a perfect end to our stay and start to the day.

10.25

It’s always a good sign when you’re sad to check out of a hotel and that’s definitely the case as we return our room key. The staff at Stratton’s obviously care about every guest so much that I feel they’re even a little sorry to see us go. As we walk back down the drive to the coach stop that’s conveniently just outside, we look back at the beautiful place where we’ve spent a fabulous night and know that we’ll be back.

N: Strattons Hotel

T: 01760 723 845

E: enquiries@strattonshotel.com
A: Strattons, Ash Close, Swaffham, Norfolk, PE37 7NH
W: strattons-hotel.co.uk/

Our rating: *****

Hotel Pelirocco, Brighton, West Sussex

Thursday, 5pm
Monsieur 2 and I were rocketing towards Brighton on the Thameslink, and since we managed to cadge one of the table seats, thought we’d make the most of it with a game of poker. Sadly, the ability to spot a seventeenth-century pewter bedpan at 100 paces doesn’t translate into the agile brain of a cardsharp. And every time I chewed on my cardboard cup of coffee, he snarled “Okay! Okay!” He seemed to think that going on to win the game was clever; I thought it was downright cheeky.

Pulling into Brighton was a joy. I love the smell of the sea, the way that the sunlight makes the stucco buildings shine, the tacky little pleasure shops and ice cream stalls along the pier. It’s so English, so nostalgic. Monsieur 2 was curious, but still professed that a bottle of Entre Deux Mers in a hilltop town overlooking the Mediterranean is a superior experience.

We ambled for 15 minutes down to Regency Square – and it took us a couple of circuits to locate the Pelirocco, so low-key is the signage. But low-key is not a description that fits the interior: it’s less a riot of colour and more a downright revolution. I signed us in on a pink-topped counter while Monsieur 2 copped a snook at the semi- (and in some cases, wholly) pornographic pop art around the walls. When the Independent on Sunday declared, “your granny wouldn’t like it”, they certainly had a point. Monsieur 2 pursed his lips puritanically.

Our Soul Supreme Room

5.08pm
I don’t think a hotel room has ever made us laugh out loud before – but the sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll world of the Pelirocco made us squeal. Each of the hotel’s 19 rooms are themed around either music or sex, so you can choose from The Pin Up Parlour, a hip-hop room and the ultimate dirty weekend suite, the Play Room, which combines kitsch, burlesque and raunchy in its décor.
We’re in the Soul Supreme, a shrine to Motown, with dark walls and satin bedcovers,
LP-shaped cushions and a kitschy pink record player to blare out the Motown. We set ‘Songs In The Key Of Life’ a-spinning and let Stevie Wonder do the talking as we Monsieur does a very curious groove. He claims it is pure 70s; I’d say it’s pure oddness.

Novelties included Record-Shaped Cushions

8.27pm 
We dozed off to ‘Sexual Healing’ on the sumptuously soft king size bed – and it was only after half an hour of listening to the needle going round and round that we agreed to do a bit of hunter-gathering. Searching for a room service menu, we found that food wasn’t served in the room, and that the room service menu featured a bawdy range of straight and gay soft-core DVDs, Durex-branded condoms and various adult toys. With two hours advance notice they can even lay on in-room massages and beauty treatments – for one or two!

Instead, we popped down to the hotel’s Playstation bar for a tipple, and to check out the other guests – and to sample the Pelirocco cocktail of Absolut vodka, chambord and fresh lime. Got chatting to a couple from Leeds – an accountant and a car valet – and ended up hitting some seedy pubs in Kemp Town before clubbing at Revenge.

9.15am
We make our way downstairs to breakfast and find ourselves in the company of several other rather dishevelled but contented-looking couples (all straight, it must be said, but no-one bats an eyelid).  No sign of our friends from last night, although we only made it back to the hotel at 4.30pm.
Monsieur 2 plumps for a fruit platter followed by boiled egg and soldiers; I’m absolutely ravenous so I go for the full English – cooked to order and perfectly so.  By the time I was tucking into a couple of rounds of toast and my eighth coffee, our fellow revellers appeared. Well, I thought I looked bad in the morning. Monsieur 2 pointed out that the light of day can do wicked things.

11.58am
We stayed in our room until the very last minute, dozing, lounging, giggling… well, you get the picture. Only the draw of the Pier, the Lanes, buying some rock and – for Le Monsieur – a visit to the mock-Chinese world of the Pavilion galvanised us into any form of action.

When we returned the keys, I swear there was a cheeky knowing glint in the manager’s eye as he asks if we enjoyed our stay. We might not have seen anything quite like the Pelirocco before, but you can bet your bottom dollar there’s little the folks here haven’t seen in their time!

Hotel Pelirocco
T: 01273 327055
E: info@hotelpelirocco.co.uk
W: hotelpelirocco.co.uk
Our rating: ***
A: 10 Regency Square, Brighton, West Sussex BN1 2FG

Berkeley House, Tetbury, Gloucestershire

Friday, 11.30pm
Hip, hip, hoo-bloody-ray! Paul and Andrew are finally tying the knot, and about time too! Paul was M's best pal when he first ventured over the Channel, and I met Andrew in a taxi queue at 5.30am after a heavy night of clubbing. I say it was Andrew. It could have been the Pope for all I know.

Anyway, Monsieur 2 and I now take personal responsibility for their blissful union and, along with eight other pals, are heading SW for a weekend of good food, good wine and great company. We're bound for Berkeley House, a Georgian townhouse Prince Charles’s stomping ground, Tetbury. It's supposed to be tranquil and relaxed affair, but Ralph - our token Brazilian, who makes Marguerita Pracatan look like a school librarian - is coming, so let's not hold our breath for tranquility.

Generally, we can't wait to see the old boys again, although Monsieur 2's feeling a little apprehensive after the incident in Shrewsbury involving Colin and the combi- boiler. Still we packed the boot with generous quantities from the wine cellar (le mini vacance is a 'self-catering' joint) which rattled alarmingly as we began our journey, turning left onto the Cromwell Road.

2.15
Ralph was the first out of the door, followed by Colin, Lisa and her nearest and dearest Rupert. Paul and Andrew were apparently upstairs shouting at each other: pre-wedding nerves, perhaps? [M: It made a change from it being us.] Cheeky.

2.55
Lisa's just escorted us round the premises, giving a blow-by-blow account of the design (she's an interior designer). This place has certainly got the wow factor. Run by Lena Proudlock, a Swedish photographer and designer, the house (and its Coach House, Orangery and Bay Tree apartment opposite – all of which can be rented) has been featured in Vogue, Elle and Homes & Gardens. Its décor its drool-inducing. Terrifically discreet, but deliciously luxurious.

Plenty of room for Lounging

 

Decked out largely in black and denim (trust me – it works!), there are enormous black fireplaces, denim-studded chairs and black sofas, offset to perfection by high ceilings, cosy shutters, and oversized hangings of Proudlock’s photography. Drama, pathos and texture galore.

Oh to have a Kitchen like this one!

The stunningly modern stainless steel kitchen opens up into a conservatory-type space leading onto the garden, a careful Baroque symphony of clean-cut quadrant lines. Venture further and we located our home for the weekend. The Orangery. Ralph, our master chef for the weekend, was eying up the Aga, whilst my dear M began plonking his 'plonk' into the fridge. Plonk maybe the wrong word for carefully chosen vintages, but I know the word grates on him like fingernails on a blackboard, so I always use it. Aren't I mean.

Master Bedroom, Berkeley House

Lounge Space in the Orangery

The hub of the house is the gorgeous sitting room - or Media Room, as it's know - with a kitchenette for midnight Mac-based feasts! I was rather envious of the master bedroom in the house, with its plasam screen television and generous en suite, but who am I to complain when Monsieur 2 and I have our very own private quarters!

The house can be rented with or without The Orangery, and since we have a surplus of numbers, we volunteered to sleep there. Admittedly we were swayed by the seven-foot four-poster bed and wetroom with a showerhead six times the size of ours at home. But who's one for details!

Friday, 6.25pm
Monsieur 2 and I have helped ourselves to the black bathrobes provided and are about to indulge in a Molton Brown extravaganza courtesy of the owner before we join the throng for dinner, which, incidentally, Monsieur 2 is helping prepare: a French feast of steak tartare, dauphine potatoes and steamed veg laced with rosemary. He takes this all very seriously, and despite one rather heated interlude over the seasoning Ralph and his new sous chef emerged from the kitchen beaming with pride.

Saturday, 9.35am
A glorious evening last night, although feeling as stuffed as a pot-bellied pig. Monsieur 2 lingered in the shower for as long as possible, and emerged looking refreshed and devilishly good-looking. We made our way across the garden to the main house, and tucked into croissants and coffee – while Ralph gave us the run-down of the day.

The ceremony was taking place at 1pm, followed by a huge lunch, and then the real fun begins: horse-riding followed by a hot-air trip over Gloucstershire's finest countryside. (Tomorrow, he promises, will be less frenetic, with a lie-in and a visit to the Highgrove estate for lunch with HRH; failing that, brunch and a spot of organic shopping.)

Saturday, 4.38pm
The ceremony was truly touching. Andrew and Paul looked beautifully groomed and very much in love. Even the dishwasher beeping during the vows didn’t deter from the sense of occasion, although Lisa and I did get the giggles, at which point M gave me a withering look. Don’t think he’ll be proposing this weekend.

Sunday 2.30pm
Just finished brunch and we’re having a quick whizz around with the vacuum cleaner, and clearing up the empty bottles. Don’t know where they all came from. (Note, must cut down on drinking!). Berkeley House can provide a live-in ‘house girl’, but the consensus was why bother when we could spend the money on food and wine instead!
Just enough time for a whistle-stop tour of Bath - Monsieur 2 was keen on the idea of visiting William Morris’s home and the second-hand bookshops, Lisa wanted to swing by the Beaufort Polo Club, and Paul and Ralph wanted to ramble through the Westonbirt Arboretum. Bath it was.

N: Berkeley House
T: 01666 500277
E: lenaproudlock@me.com
W: lenaproudlockescapes.com
Our rating: ****
A: 16 The Chipping, Tetbury, Gloucestershire GL8 8ET