There’s a Famous Five feel to the stretch of Jurassic Coast where the Seaside Boarding House is perched – golden thatched cottages, dramatic expanses of sea and the promise of fossil-hunting followed by cream tea
Three of us booked in for a midweek treat, and excitement levels were high as we arrived at the hotel, which has been re-imagined from an Edwardian villa by former owners of the Groucho. This is London sophistication with its shoes kicked off and its toes in the sand – literally, as the beach is an ammonite’s throw from the front door with the South West Coast Path meandering past.
There was a warm welcome for all, but my Miniature Schnauzer Zelda was greeted like Beyoncé arriving at the Bellagio (dogs are allowed in some, though not all, of the bedrooms, which adds to the home-from-home feel). The decor in the reception rooms is traditional-with-a-twist: clean lines, nautical nods and witty artwork in the dining room and less formal bar, while a snug with coral-smothered wallpaper and velvet chairs beckons you into its book-lined warmth.
In my room, everything has been done properly, from crisply ironed white bed linen to thick interlined curtains. There are antique desks and wardrobes, a bed the size of a cruise liner, a Roberts radio and no sign of a telly (fine by me though you can have one sent up), as well as a well-appointed bathroom with lashings of Bramley products. The bed is pure bliss – the mattresses from Naturalmat and made from natural fibres, including lambswool (and added straight to my dream home wish-list).
For lunch, we feasted on house-made taramasalata, so briny and punchy I’ll never touch pink supermarket glop again. Smoked haddock with mustardy mash and duck ragù with olives were both rich and hearty, and only just leave room for a clutch of madeleines fresh from the oven, crisp on the outside and pillow-soft in the middle.
After a windswept beach walk, we changed for dinner (there’s no pressure to dress up, but the retro house-party vibe made us want to). First, we were served impeccable Negronis, then feasted on cheese soufflé, pink fir potatoes anointed with seaweed butter and shaved hispi cabbage with truffle oil and parmesan – the latter a revelation. We couldn’t dig our forks in fast enough.
The wine list is pleasing for both palate and pocket – from the bright Picpoul to elegant Puligny Montrachet if you’re pushing the boat out.
We retired to the snug with glasses of Somerset Cider Brandy, then drifted off to bed, to be lulled to sleep by the pounding of the waves, while wrapped up in the Boarding House’s quiet luxury. And we all overslept for the first time in years.
