Two short breaks

Hartwell House, 16 August 2019

Ruth and I have had an ongoing quest for a while to locate a country house hotel that we like. Well, actually it was more her idea in the first place, but after a bit of browsing Secret Escapes and concluding that they only seemed to advertise offers at places that were currently undergoing renovation, she seemed to give up, so I had a go. I liked the look of Careys Manor Hotel and SenSpa, in the New Forest (obvs, a spa is a must) but Ruth decided that one of the gallery photographs looked like the lounge of an old people’s home, which didn’t bother me overly but she seems to have ruled it out on this account.

We briefly considered staying at Littlecote House near Hungerford, now part of the Warner Leisure chain, but it seems impossible to book with Warner Leisure without signing up for an at least two-night themed stay involving entertainment, which neither of us is keen on. Plus, Ruth maintains that we’re not old enough for Warner Leisure yet. For whatever reason, the National Trust hotels caught my eye, I think via the NT magazine, and we ended up booking a night for my birthday this year at Hartwell House, near Aylesbury.

Hartwell House from the front

Hartwell is one of three Historic House Hotels of the National Trust, the others being Bodysgallen Hall in north Wales and Middlethorpe Hall near York.

We had booked a room on the second floor (because the first floor rooms were even further out of our price range) and checked in early afternoon. After being shown to our room by a chap way past the first flush of youth who nonetheless insisted on carrying all our bags, we went for a stroll around the grounds. We passed this cute little folly and a long-closed church that’s apparently in the care of the Churches Conservation Trust.

Due to ongoing niggling health issues, I wasn’t able to use the spa, which detracted somewhat from the trip. I was, thankfully, able to have the treatment I’d booked, a head and shoulder massage, while Ruth had a delicious (I know as I ate some of it) smoked salmon sandwich in the café above the spa.

Ruth in the spa cafe

Dinner started out by us being served drinks and canapés in a massive stately home-type drawing room while making our choices from the menu. The meal was nice enough, though a bit over-fussily presented, and I have to say I’ve now no memory of what I had, so perhaps not as memorable as it should have been.

After dinner

Verdict? Nice as a one-off. It was very expensive and the non-use of the spa left me feeling even less as though I'd got my money's worth. And, though we're not complete plebs by any means, it was probably a bit formal for our tastes. It's a beautiful place though.

The Dundas Arms, Kintbury, 8 November 2019

Scaling down a bit from Hartwell, and because we spend a lot of time perusing the Saturday Times’ ‘Weekend’ supplement, we booked a night at The Dundas Arms in Kintbury – a pub that I don’t think I'd been to since the 1990s. It’s had a significant refurb since then.

The Dundas is right on the Kennet & Avon Canal and also right by Kintbury's railway station. We had a quick walk around the village itself; I hadn't been to Kintbury in years but as might have been expected it struck me as having poshed up a bit. Noticed that the hairdresser 'Tweasles' was, amazingly, still there.

We booked one of the ‘river’ rooms and were allocated the ‘Woodcock’, with its own separate entrance from the car park. The Dundas would seem to be aiming itself at a particular clientele – I didn’t know what the thin narrow lockable cabinet at the entrance to our room was, supposing it to be somewhere to leave your umbrella, but Ruth recognized it immediately as a gun cabinet (the fruits of having a father who keeps guns to shoot vermin – Ruth bought him a head torch a while back to reduce the risk of him shooting either her mother’s dog or his own foot while patrolling around after dark).

I managed to persuade Ruth out for a stroll around Kintbury. In the interests of not making it seem like an actual walk and thereby risking putting her off, I didn’t take my OS map and didn’t wear walking boots, both of which decisions proved a mistake as Ruth took us yomping off up a muddy footpath which went on for quite a while and eventually came out on a country road some way from Kintbury just as dusk was setting in. Thanks to smartphone GPS, we managed to navigate our way back, though gingerly, aware that we hadn’t brought a torch with us and were sitting ducks for passing cars.

Evening walk back to Kintbury

We had a very nice dinner in the Dundas’ restaurant, consisting of pork belly accompanied by pork crackling and some little what looked like potato balls but which turned out on investigation to also contain pork. We found ourselves scrabbling around for the tiny portion of cabbage that formed the only vegetable with the dish. We had a vegetarian dinner the following evening.

Morning view of Kintbury Lock

Verdict? Despite the scale down from Hartwell, Ruth ended up being of the opinion that it was overpriced for what it was – maybe true, I don’t know. It was quite cosy though and I’m fond of the area, so wouldn’t rule out another stay.