QUINTESSENTIALLY | Insider | Travel

If there’s one thing Sir Richard Branson knows, it’s how to spot a good location.

As well as Necker Island in the BVIs, Kasbah Tamadot in the Atlas mountains and a private lodge in Verbier, he also owns a charming rustic game lodge in South Africa called Ulusaba – ideal for safari first-timers, or for those short on time.

Situated on 13,500 hectares of privately owned land on the north-western border of Kruger National Park in a region called Sabi Sands, this little patch of savannah could well have the highest concentration of animal traffic in the whole of Africa. Put it this way: I’d spotted all of the big five within 24 hours of checking in.

There are two lodges here, both offering spacious tribal-chic rooms, some of which have plunge pools. Safari Lodge (11 rooms) is situated on the banks of a dry river bed, and Rock Lodge (10 rooms) is in the mountains, a cool five minutes’ drive away. Choose the Treehouse Suite at Safari Lodge for privacy – access is via a long chain of rope bridges and your only next-door neighbours are the 38 hippos who wallow in the watering hole below your deck. For awe-inspiring views, you can’t beat the Makwela suites at Rock Lodge. On a clear day, you can see all the way to the Lembozo mountains of Mozambique.

But the property’s most recent addition, Cliff Lodge, is its pièce de la résistance. Carved out of the rockface behind Rock Lodge, this five-storey house boasts two ultra-luxe glass-fronted suites plus a private gym and pool, all completed last year. It is a remarkable feat of architecture and naturally it’s the preferred choice for Branson when he is visiting with family and friends. Locate the swivel closet in the master suite where he stashes his pith helmet and you can leave him a note…

The atmosphere throughout the sprawling estate is laid back yet professional. The rangers are great company and have encyclopaedic knowledge of the area’s flora and fauna as well as excellent cocktail mixing skills, which come in handy on game drives. These are taken twice daily (at 5.30am and 4.30pm) in soft-seated Land Rover Pumas. Don’t worry if you’re not an early riser, there’s plenty to see on evening drives. Expect cheetahs, impala, white rhino, lions, buffalo, leopards, giraffes, elephants, hippos, warthogs and chameleons, plus the odd black mamba and boomslang snake cooling off on the dusty roads – these coilers are deadly, so keep your eyes peeled.

Like at most safari lodges, meals are communal (although private dining is available) and the shared experience works well, especially when twice a week, dinner is served al fresco in the bush by flaming torch light. Impala steaks, steamed yellowtail fish, moussaka and traditional mealy pup are delivered fresh from the grill onto linen-clad trestle tables.

Feasting in this way, around a raging bonfire under a red African moon, swapping stories from the day’s thrilling adventures, you can’t help but feel thoroughly at one with nature. And best of all, it’s perfectly do-able in a long weekend.

www.ulusaba.virgin.com

Leo Bear flew to Johannesburg with Virgin Atlantic. Transfers from Johannesburg to Ulusaba’s private airstrip are with Federal Air.

Verbier, Zermatt, St Moritz – been there, skied the slopes, and survived the apres ski. But what if, like me, you’re looking for something more from your next Alpine adventure, something new and undiscovered, where the atmosphere is as fresh as the powder atop the mountain.

Surely there cannot be such a place left in the Swiss Alps? Surely the winter sun jet set would have discovered such a treasure by now?

Well you’re wrong, allow me to introduce you to Leukerbad – Switzerland’s best kept secret. Located in the heart of the enchanting Valais mountain landscape, Leukerbad is the ideal retreat for those looking for the ultimate mountain experience regardless of the season.

I found myself winding along the picturesque road to Leukerbad just a few weeks a go – ever the optimist I was told there was still some snow to be found atop the higher peaks, so my ski bunny ensemble of Chanel goggles, sleek salopettes and faithful Redfoot zippy boots was packed and ready to go.

The first thing you notice about Leukerbad is the view, 360 degrees of stunning mountains and alpine greenery, with the picture perfect village caught in the middle.

Take the cable car up to the Torrent (vertigoans beware) and you will find yourself 2900m above sea level with a criss cross of blue and black runs at your disposal, as well as a small but perfectly formed mixture of mountain side restaurants for the sun worshippers and mulled wine enthusiasts to take advantage of.

With the sun out and the skiing a little rocky in places, I decided to check out the gargantuan network of unforgettable hiking trails in Leukerbad. A gentle hike on the Gemmi mountain was enough to satisfy my appetite for the natural beauty of the area, but for those feeling a little more adventurous there is a 950m descent from the Torrent to the village below, as well as Switzerland’s longest fixed rope climb on the majestic but slightly terrifying Dauberhorn – not for the faint hearted!

But to find the real magic of Leukerbad you have to look a little deeper below the surface, a few hundred feet to be exact, as that’s where the thermal springs that keep 3.9million litres of thermal water bubbling up to the village can be found.

When they say there’s something in the water here, they’re not lying – the mineral and healing powers in the water have attracted people to Leukerbad for centuries including some rather well known names including Charlie Chaplin, Pablo Picasso and Mark Twain.

I headed to the Burgerbad which has both indoor and outdoor pools at varying temperatures, including one rock carved grotto with waters of 51 degrees! For that extra touch of Quintessentially decadence, a floating banquet had been arranged complete with Champagne, croissants, fresh fruit and a selection of delicious local cheeses and bread, made even more spectacular by the mountains stretching around the pool.

And now to let you in on a little secret…

Taking its name from the unique temperature of the water, 51° Spa Residences from The Swiss Development Group will soon be launching in Leukerbad. Designed by renowned architects Michael Graves & Associates, with interiors from Marc Michaels Interior Design – 51° is set to become the premier destination in the Swiss Alps. The first residence to be supplied completely with thermal water from Leukerbad’s springs, I am just longing to step out onto my private balcony, where my very own outdoor thermal pool awaits me, along with an awe inspiring view of the mountains overhead.

A world renowned spa, hit-tech fitness area, screening room, international restaurants, private wine cave and a wine bar managed by none other than Quintessentially Wine, are just some of the incredible benefits available to everyone staying at 51°.

With a spectacular launch party planned for later this year, the beautiful and famous will soon be flocking to Leukerbad to test out the water at 51° for themselves – isn’t it about time that you joined them?

Nothing captures the unending spirit of Cambodia more than Chol Chnam Thmey, usually falling in mid-April. Literally ‘Enter Year New’, this is Khmer New Year: a three day long celebration, with the kind of atmosphere that you wish you could cork in a bottle and release a little every day.

I knew that the place to celebrate New Year in Cambodia would be at Siem Reap, where the temples of Angkor Wat have stood the test of time and the encroaching jungle for centuries. Gigantic Banyan trees cast their indelible buttress roots here, finding their way between ancient palaces and standing for all Cambodia: these are the very roots of the nation – culturally, historically and economically – that have stood as a constant through the terror of the Khmer Rouge.

I spent New Year’s Eve at Amansara, joining a calm and contemplative offering of alms to the Buddhist monks that reside here – a gentle reminder of the positivity of the Buddhist psyche. A performance of a traditional Khmer Apsara dance, courtesy of local women dressed beautifully in threads sparkling with gold, extravagant headdresses, jingling bells, heavy jewellery and each with a fresh red rose tucked behind their right ear, welcomed the New Year by candlelight under a sky littered with stars.

Dawn over Angkor Wat heralded the beginning of a new year; a golden sun crept from behind the temples, bruising the sky with pink, orange and yellow, all reflected in wide lakes scattered with not-quite-flowering lily-pads. An early start for New Year’s Day – yes –  but the cool of early morning air and that unique feeling of stealing secret hours before the rest of the world awakes up made it unbeatable.

Back at Amansara, a Trot dance warded off any bad luck collected over the last year; recompense, I thought, for all those sets of three drains I’ve mistakenly stumbled over, and lone magpie’s that have tainted my vision. From the Sanskrit meaning ‘to end’, Trot tells the tale of a hunter unable to hunt any prey who is presented with a golden deer after praying to the spirits.  In line, we went on to pay our own respects to the spirits, promising ourselves (we hope) a prosperous year.

Later, we wandered to Wat Thmey, joining local people to make further offerings and burning incense in the mid-afternoon sun baking the ancient stone. Cambodian children have been preparing a folk dance that has all the charm of a primary school nativity at Christmas.

It is not often that three days of New Year celebrations leave you feeling refreshed and inspired, but I guess that is the secret to those never-ending smiles.

www.amansara.com

“Then came the public-house, freshly painted in green and white, with tea-gardens and a bowling green… then, fields; and then, some houses, one by one, of goodly size with lawns, some even with a lodge where dwelt a porter and his wife.” Dickens, The Olde Curiosity Shop

Just a Herculean slings shot from Henley-On-Thames, Ye Olde Bell is best described as a five star boutique bed-and-breakfast. At first site it looks like any old Tudor pub, complete with leadlight windows and Sicilian orange roof tiles. The old lettering that adorns the 12th century facade reminds me of a French poem by French rebel poet Arthur Rimbaud – a haunt for gentlefolk and more adventurous travellers, a bonafide inn where all weary and in need of a good map, you can sit down to some good English beef and a pint of what all wise poets love most, and what old Albion still does best – crude Ale. Churchill and Eisenhower plotted world domination here once. Elizabeth Taylor came here too, swooning after her lost childhood, that misty-eyed England with its alfresco views of neo-gothic churches, barges, clipped lawns and inky English sunsets with cocker spaniels barking on the bridge.

I am shown to my suite, the Dickens Suite to be exact, by a very friendly chap whose range of expression is thoroughly Dickensian. He turns the key – this happy, sprightly, country chap – and I am surprised at how the low slung door frames give way to high-ceilinged, new-old-age aesthetics. Ilse Crawford, renowned designer of Grand Hotel Stockholm and Soho House New York, hasn’t tried too hard here, and it works brilliantly – trust me. Crisp greys and whites and dark literary oak; varnished woods and pure linen on the king size bed, copper kettle, DAB Roberts Radio, old penguin books and a massive LCD widescreen with rustic views out across the gardens where a small gathering of brightly clad individuals are celebrating something grand.

Now careful you don’t let the deep deep claw-footed bath foam over; it’s not in the deluxe bathroom, with its large walk-in-shower, monsoon power and stellar signs of five star love – gels and creams by botanical skincare range Aesop; no, the deep deep bath is out where room service wish it wasn’t, or was, depending on what the medieval chap was really thinking when he handed me the Cappuccino.

After that, I put on my hat, and I met a girl outside, and we walked and talked for hours, and by and by, inspired by the elegy of wind ruffling the water’s edge, I wrote a poem, and read it to her at the bar where a log fire blazed (although my enlivened romanticism may have just imagined it there, for the next day the inglenook was somewhere else). We left the long cocktail (she gave them a few tips with the fresh lime and cranberry juice) and the ale and went next door to the restaurant – very calming without the tailored tweed-pretentiousness of other country retreats.

Her eloquent stares hovered over the thick cut of beef, and especially over the bread and butter pudding, and they were really good, though she smirked indifferently as the smoked salmon came and went untouched. Some portions were small, the a la carte menu and wine list a little overpriced, but so what, really? I’ll also mention the night-cap in the rambling meadow where we danced, and the kiss of blue skies and pure ale the next morning, and… well, its more than worth the mark-up, isn’t it?

www.theoldebell.co.uk

This is my first visit to the Isle of Sicily. I imagined it like this, with the breathtaking views of Mount Etna, robed in pearly clouds as we descend into Catania Airport. I’m here for the five star golf experience, about an hour or so drive from Catania Airport. On this winding route, I sit back and let the hedonistic beauty of Sicily invade my senses – with its dry stone walls, vineyards, Baroque villages and country villas.

Ill Carrubo and Nero d’Avola in the Piano Bar

Arriving at the resort a little behind schedule, the pristine views were shrouded in darkness. The golf would have to wait until morning. Lead to our rooms, the seemingly boundless number of buildings gave Donnafugata Golf & Spa the feel of a self-contained village, at once modern, and, like some of the luxurious art hotels popping up in such places, in serene harmony with the fragrant shadows that lean in from all sides.

The hotel has three alternate dining venues, usually serving at different times of the day. The finest dining can be found at Il Carrubo, a restaurant which focuses on Sicilian cuisine – quite in keeping with the tranquil, new-old-world aesthetic of the resort, offering meals with a formal edge, accompanied by delicious local wines which leave one feeling wistfully quixotic. After dinner, my muse found reflection in the pool room, piano bar and a quaint chapel across the courtyard. To both the travel-weary and those with senses dulled by one glass too many of Nero d’Avola, the place can feel like a bit of a maze on one’s first night. Arrested at the hotels attentive semi-circular bar by those ever-friendly comrades-of-the-quill, I sat down for a few well made cocktails, in the knowledge that I had an early appointment with one of the greatest golfers of all time the following morning.

Golf for the Aesthete

From my notebook – ‘The golf is a little rusty. I will hit a few balls before my questionable golfing skills are exposed by the Black Knight. Many of my fellow golfers have had the same thought process and I meet them walking into Il Ficodindia – a high-ceilinged dining room, with chandeliers and handsome copper pipes running throughout, serving a vast breakfast buffet and rich espresso like only the Italians can do. Out on the Parkland Course, the morning dew evaporates with the first rays that creep above the undulating vista.

My first ball hooks wildly off to the left. I am quick to realise that my game is not what it used to be, but dark forebodings flutter away on site of the first flag. As my swing count accumulates, my confidence rises with the morning sun.

Between 9th and 10th there’s a clubhouse fittingly named the 19th Hole; we sit down and call our shots into question, the autumn sun telecasting my newly found red hue. The bar is best enjoyed whilst looking over the golf course, drinking in the calm of hills that roll along the coast while the sun sets, capped by something cold and sparkling.’

The Legend Appears

Gary Player is a golfing legend, an extraordinarily charismatic man and true crowd-pleaser. He’s on the course with us, launching the first ball, casually relating a short history of golf – inspired anecdotes that name-drop some of golf’s biggest characters, remarkable insights from a man celebrating the 50th anniversary of his first Masters win.

Fine first shot – both straight enough and a solid distance. Only then did Player appear, smiling encouragingly; ‘may I finish the hole with you?’ he asks, the sparkle in his eye intimating that he has been watching our approach from the sidelines, and knows a thing or two about making it cooler, smarter, slicker. Having a nine-time major winner standing over you as you negotiate a tricky approach shot doesn’t bode well for my club or shot selection.

Later, primed with Prosecco, the hotel hosts a reception (Sicilian food at its best, with fish that couldn’t be fresher), and I learn the brutal truth; my drive was working for me, but the following approach would need some work. I retired to the hotel bar to reflect on his words; savouring my now habitual Manhattan nightcap, I wondered whether I might not take advantage of the Sotogrande Golf Academy; if I couldn’t revive the pro circuit dream, I might at least improve my handicap somewhat.

This Side of Paradise

So preoccupied had I been with perfecting my drive that I had almost overlooked half of the reason this spectacular hotel was created in the first place.

Donnafugata’s Spa was awarded the “Traveller Favourite Overseas Day Spa for 2010” by Condé Nast Traveller. Making maximum use of natural light, guests unwind to wide horizons of green and blue as the remedy takes effect – lavish treatment rooms, a swimming area, three different types of hydro massage, steam room, luminous sauna and herbal teas in the chill-out lounge.

By now there was a true party atmosphere. We sat outside and made the most of the wonderful luxuries, aware that I had yet made it to the Greek necropolis of Camarina, the Roman Theatre at Syracuse, Noto, Modica, or the wonders at Ragusa Ibla and Scicili. And so it was that the stay was far too short, and we all pretended to ignore that this was our last night on Trinacria.

Sicilia Open European PGA Tour

Book now to drive out on the same path where the greatest champions of the European Tour played in the past Sicilian Open Golf tournament. Stay exclusively reserved and limited.

www.donnafugatagolfresort.com

Do you know sometimes when you have an innate sense that something’s going to be a hit? Like the faces of the Vatican Council when they first saw the Sistine Chapel, or the record execs who first heard the Beatles. (Actually, fact fans, that one’s a bit askew – Decca famously turned them down, saying ‘guitar groups are on the way out’. Oops.) Thus it is with Cheltenham’s Montpellier Chapter, first in a projected series of stylish urban hotels. I don’t exaggerate when I say that the forward-thinking, open-minded attitudes projected here, so often found in Continental and further hotels, are often absent in British establishments.

It’s always such a pleasant surprise to find a hotel group – ‘chain’ is too corporate a word – that appears to have its guests’ interests as its priority, rather than those of its shareholders or its designers. Not that the Montpellier Chapter, located in Cheltenham’s most stylish Regency area, is anything but chic. As you walk into a converted Georgian house, you can’t help but notice the walls festooned with modern art, but the kind that you’d actually like to have in your home. This is matched by the first big innovation, the absence of a formal reception. Instead, everything is entirely paperless, from check-in to the welcome absence of endless sheets of paper in your room with hotel information. In a pleasingly 21^st century touch, it’s all on an iPhone touch, which comes pre-loaded with impeccably cool music (Bowie, Radiohead, Marvin Gaye etc).

The rooms themselves are located both in the original house and in a modern block, and offer such delights as walk-in showers and oversized baths, flat screens, indecently comfortable beds with pillows that allow one to slump into them and the highly welcome addition of a complimentary mini bar, a feature I’ve often wondered why more hotels don’t offer. After freshening up, one would be well advised to head downstairs to the restaurant, which appears, judging by the complete lack of seats when we visited, to be establishing itself as one of Cheltenham’s hottest spots for guests and locals alike.

Overseen by ‘consultant chef’ Simon Hopkinson – the hotel is tactful about the level of his precise involvement, but it’s certainly true to his principles – and head chef  Tom Rains, the menu here is ‘modern British’, but of a calibre and consistency to make this seem fresh and original rather than the vogue du jour. A starter of crispy duck and watercress salad had vaguely Oriental flavours that excited and stimulated, and my litmus test of a good restaurant – the fillet steak – was served au poivre and had a rich, flavoursome test that was perfectly complimented by the acidity of the pepper. My girlfriend’s pork fillet would, meanwhile, have converted even the most committed vegetarian to casual carnivore, so succulent and tender was it.  A side order of deliciously creamy Bearnaise sauce was a thing of beauty and a joy forever. Dessert of rhubarb crumble was less adventurous, but pleasing in a nursery school fashion.  The wine list – neatly presented on iPads, although I forgot to ask whether they were v1 or v2 – is another oh-so-contemporary touch, but the expertly chosen selection, offering New and Old World with equal aplomb, should appeal to all.

I can’t end the review without mentioning the wonderful staff. Far from the surly automatons that you find in so many hotels, the enthusiasm and dedication of everyone, from manager James Partridge down,  will make this a genuinely enjoyable stay. If you needed to know where in Cheltenham serves the best cupcakes or which is the best wine shop (John Gordons, in our opinion), just ask, and they’ll be glad to help.  It will be fascinating to see how the group, which opens another hotel in Exeter in 2012, will develop, but if they maintain this personal touch, they’re onto a winner. At the end of your stay, when you’re bid a fond ‘We hope to see you again’, it’s all you can do not to book another night straight away.

Bayshill Road, Montpellier, Cheltenham GL50. www.themontpellierchapterhotel.com

Quintessentially travelled with First Great Western. For best fares and further details please see www.firstgreatwestern.co.uk

When top-class chefs try and overextend themselves (naming no names), the results can sometimes be a disaster. However, as with Raymond Blanc and Le Manoir Aux Quat’ Saisons, if fine food is complemented by beautiful and inspiring surroundings, both inside and outside the hotel, the results can be extremely impressive. So it proves with Austrian wunderkind Simon Taxacher and his new Hotel Restaurant Spa Rosengarten, which promises to become one of the leading European boutique hotel destinations over the coming year. Taxacher, who was awarded two Michelin stars in their last Austrian guide and 17 points from Gault Millau, is rightly regarded as a significant figure in European gastronomy, but the rest of his excellent establishment more than lives up to his kitchen’s standards.

Situated outside the ski town of Kitzbühel, just over an hour from Salzburg, the first thing that strikes you when arriving at the Rosengarten is how different it is to the superannuated and overpriced ‘visitor hotels’ that cater to a mixture of skiers and tourists. The atmosphere is sleek and modern, without being overpowering or intimidating, thanks in no small part to the genuine friendliness and warmth of the various staff. This continues to the lavishly appointed rooms, the grandest of which, the deluxe suites, feature an almost bewildering combination of amenities. Ours had such delights as its own wine fridge, a walk-in closet that’s so large that it’s the size of many London flats, and a bed so enormous that it could sleep a family of four in luxurious comfort. A balcony offers splendid views over the Alps, which are stunning, especially when the morning mists come down; the vistas offered are positively Wagnerian.

The basement spa offers relaxing and soothing spa treatments that are an unusual but effective blend of Austrian efficiency and Far Eastern mystique, ensuring that guests feel pampered and ready for anything. Which may well be dinner. The hotel boasts two distinct restaurants, a modern European bistro which offers traditional Austrian fare at reasonable prices and with an excellent standard of cuisine, and Taxacher’s more formal fine dining room, which offers something really quite special. We opted for the chef’s ‘surprise menu’, and were promptly beguiled by an assortment of tastes, flavours and textures that represented the finest in Modern European cuisine, owing debts to French and Austrian cooking but with a unique twist – the ‘crisps’ that were served on the side of several dishes were an especially nice touch. The menu regularly changes with the season, meaning that no two dinners here are ever likely to be exactly the same, but highlights included perfectly cooked sea bass and beautifully presented venison. A fine selection of Austrian wines (with a semi-apologetic cameo from an excellent French Bordeaux with the meat) are a fitting accompaniment.

When the hotel reopens for the season in early May, it’s likely to be one of the country’s hottest tickets. So do yourself a favour and book now, and you won’t be disappointed.

Hotel Restaurant Spa Rosengarten, Aschauserstrasse 46, 6365 Kirschberg in Tirol. www.rosengarten-taxacher.com

Quintessentially travelled on the Stansted Express. For more information and the best value fares please visit www.stanstedexpress.com

My mum has received many Mother’s Day gifts from me over the past 20 something years – from the pasta shell covered cards of my Montessori days, followed closely by the bouquet of daffodils stolen from our neighbour’s garden, to some very dubious smelling rose petal perfume that she dotingly wore with pride.

But luckily for my mum the years of hand-made trinkets are over as I’m now of an age where my imagination (and my budget) allows me to think a little more extravagantly when it comes to showing her how much I care.

Which is why she found herself one sunny Friday afternoon on a First Great Western train, enjoying a G&T, as the beautiful English countryside rushed past. Her destination? Wyck Hill House Hotel and Spa in the heart of the stunning Cotswolds.

With snowdrops poking cautiously through the ground, rabbits gamboling on the green banks, and the late afternoon spring sun glancing off the windows, Wyck Hill is a welcome sight for city sore eyes!  The main house itself is a lush mix of sweeping staircases and oak panelled walls, combined with avant garde flower displays and ultra modern metallic wallpaper.

Our home for the night was not in the main house, but just a short stroll along a charming garden path leading to the old orangery. Our room was the epitome of country chic, but without a doubt the most impressive feature was the stunning double doors that flooded the room with light. Opening directly onto our own private terrace, the wicker sun loungers proved the perfect spot from which to watch the sun go down as we sipped on a chilled glass of Chablis.

Dressed for dinner, we headed for drinks in the bespoke open air humidor. Despite the impressive whisky and wine selection, a Kir Royale was our tipple of choice – like mother like daughter.

Dinner was served in the AA 2 Rosette award winning restaurant, where I persuaded my mum to dismiss her diet for the evening and tuck into a lavish four course dinner.  A refreshing amuse bouche of leek soup with apple crisp was the first thing to grace out lips – compliments of the chef.  To start I opted for the air dried ham with Manchego cheese and honey roasted black figs, whilst my mum selected the crab, ginger and coriander cakes dressed with tomato and caviar.

For mains, the fillet of Hereford Cross beef could not have been more succulent and delicious, whilst my mum’s choice of sea bass in a shellfish cream sauce accompanied by saffron potatoes was eliciting sighs of delight even from me, a self confessed non fish fan. Pudding was to be shared owing to our joint love of all things chocolate, and the milk chocolate ganache with passion fruit mousse and a side of chocolate macaroon did not fail to disappoint.

The next day we headed to the Elemis Spa in the depths of the house for some much needed pampering.  Dressed in deliciously fluffy white robes, we were ushered into the ‘Relaxation Room’ onto day beds swathed in burnt gold chiffon where icy mineral water and the latest glossy magazines awaited us. I had opted for the Herbal Lavender Repair Facial, with my mum choosing the Visible Brilliance Facial.

With the scent of lavender in the air lulling me into a calming daze, the cool hands of my therapist worked and massaged their way over my skin; ending in the most heavenly hand and arm massage I believe I will ever have the privilege of experiencing.  My mum emerged from her own treatment in a similar state, feeling renewed, refreshed, and of course looking ten years younger.

The Mother’s Day experience at Wyck Hill is undeniably an incredible way to spoil your mum, but the best part is simply spending some rare time together in one of the most beautiful and peaceful locations in England. In fact why wait until Mother’s Day for your visit, a weekend at Wyck should be mandatory at least once a month – happily my mum agrees with me.

Wyck Hill House Hotel, Stow-on-the-Wold, The Costwolds, Gloucestershire, GL54 1HY

www.wyckhillhousehotel.com