Hotel du Vin, Harrogate
Driving back to London recently after a visit home to Edinburgh, I was struck by how little I knew of England between the Scottish border and London.
If you lived abroad, you would spend most weekends exploring. Despite moving to England more than 10 years ago, I had only gone south, east and west of London - probably because there was most sunshine in the south.
Armed with a copy of the Lonely Planet guide to England, my wife Sue and I decided to put matters straight. Our first destination, to coincide with our wedding anniversary, was Harrogate, in the Yorkshire Dales. My only knowledge of the area was from watching All Creatures Great and Small, where poor old James would get put through the mill by seemingly gruff farmers with a hidden sense of mischief. I also have what I like to call a working knowledge of Emmerdale and Coronation Street - enough to practise my 'happen', 'champion' and general 'speak-as-thee-finds-thee' in the car.
It took just over three hours to get there - way less than a trip to Cornwall. And the signs were promising when we checked into the newly-opened Hotel du Vin, part of a small, expanding chain that concentrates on food and wine, when the receptionist uttered what I regard as the finest words in the English language: 'I'm pleased to say you've been upgraded.'
We were shown to one of three suites that contained a huge television, massive wood-floored living area, a bed made for about eight and a bathroom with twin baths, separated by a champagne bucket on a stand, as well as a huge walk-in shower that would fit a women's beach volleyball team in it. (It was our fifth wedding anniversary and we had our baby daughter Lily with us, so fantasy seemed the only realistic refuge.)
It was the sort of accommodation where you want the hotel person to leave - so that you can stop nodding coolly as you are shown around, and sprint across the room with your shirt over your head, try a few triple salchows, leap up and chest bang each other and finally collapse laughing on the bed. In short, it was exceptionally nice.
The hotel was near the town centre, which has similar architecture to parts of Edinburgh. It had pleasant views across a park and laid-back, friendly staff. The interior is in dark wood, with a metal cocktail bar and billiards room near the lounge area, leading on to the restaurant. Crucially for us - and I realise how sad this is even as I write this - the baby listener worked in the bar and restaurant, which was fully booked with hotel guests and people from Harrogate both nights we were there.
Although well-versed in the art of detecting nose, body and legs in an impertinent bottle of Bulgarian from Somerfields, I struggled with the vast wine list while we had drinks at the bar. The sommelier, who was utterly unpretentious, was sent over to recommend something, while I strained out of the corner of my eye to see the price without him noticing. I failed; the food was good - I had game pie, Sue had fish - and the wine was lovely, but there is something disconcerting about not knowing if you've ordered a Chateauneuf d'Extortionate with your dinner.
Afterwards, we had drinks in the bar area, which specialises in cigars and has Eighties retro black and white prints dotted everywhere, and played pool before heading back to our room, where Lily was snoring, and I went to sleep dreaming about the intricacies of women's beach volleyball tactics.
The next morning, we drove out to the Dales. Harrogate is nice enough, with tea rooms and ancient steam baths, but it is its proximity to the countryside that we liked best. It was a beautiful December day - freezing cold, with patches of snow on top of hills, and a clear, sunny sky. The scenery was outstanding. We found ourselves raving about how nice it would be to come on a proper holiday here. You could easily imagine going for long walks or lazing about with a picnic beside one of the many rivers. We drove across old bridges, through quaint market towns and lovely, rolling hills.
The people could not have been further from the stereotype: all were friendly, outgoing and talkative. (Sue likened it to being in Italy because so many people stopped to talk to Lily and make a fuss over her.) Betty's, Harrogate's famous teashop, was fullwhen it was time for Lily's tea. So we stopped at a place called Graveley's for fish, chips and mushy peas - which may not sound like much, but were some of the best I've ever tasted. In fact, fish and chips are a must for anyone going there.
We also tried one old country pub in the Dales, and the barman happily engaged in a bit of banter about the differences between Yorkshire black pudding, which is dotted with bits of fat, and the smoother Scottish variety. (I imagine afterwards he phoned all his mates in other pubs to tell them to avoid some incredibly dull bloke who thought comparing black pudding was interesting. But there you go.) He also gave us a cheery 'champion' when we paid the bill - another highlight.
When we left Harrogate, we did our usual star rating on the way home. The hotel scored nine out of 10 for the rooms, and eight for the food and ambience. The people and scenery got easy 10s. The suites are not cheap at £185 a night, although the other rooms are less than £100 a night and of a very high standard. At no distance from London, but in a different world, we're looking forward to exploring Yorkshire again during the summer. Andrew Malone
· The Hotel Du Vin Harrogate (01423 856800) costs from £95 for a single/double room to £185 for a loft suite, including VAT. Continental breakfast costs £9.50 per person, full English £13.50.
Feversham Arms, North Yorks
Reinvention is the key to survival, but if you're plodding along quite happily, is there any need to change?
The new owner of The Feversham Arms in Helmsley, North Yorkshire, thinks so. He wants to transform his cosy country pub hotel into a chic retreat for city couples, and is bringing in a top interior designer to do so.
When I visited, before refurbishment, I found a cushiony moorland hideaway for waterproofs and wellies folk, where the decor was old-fashioned in a homely way but didn't appear hideously in need of an overhaul.
The lounge was mellowly lit and split into two areas, each with a roaring open fire beneath subtle cream stone mantelpieces, encircled by chestnut leather armchairs and squishy sofas. There was no florid chintz.
Not bad for a weekend getaway, I thought, but Simon Rhatigan, who bought the hotel in November, isn't satisfied. He has realised his dream of buying a hotel and is revamping it to attract an upmarket crowd. Rather than hop on the minimalist, monochrome designer hotel bandwagon, he envisages 'country chic', a compromise between rural charm and urban modernity - like foie gras with chips.
Rhatigan persuaded interior designer Juliet Jowitt, who did Leeds's 42 The Calls and Edinburgh's The Scotsman, out of retirement to lend a talented hand.
All 17 rooms will have DVD players, film favourites and a CD system to play through the bathroom speakers during candlelit baths. There will even be a pillow menu.
Some features should definitely be chucked, including the flouncy knick-knacks and the disquieting teddy on the bed . Elsewhere, the sign above the bar saying 'Men's Fitness Suite' is annoying, and much of the artwork looks old-fashioned. The dining room is the hotel's best feature: a huge airy space with high ceilings and a neoteric bistro look, where you should opt for real country pub food, like the delicious wholesome cullen skink made from Whitby fish. Rhatigan's masterstroke is to take guests' breakfasts to their bedrooms, because 'Who wants to dress for breakfast when you're on holiday?'
As a cosy couples' hideaway, you can't fault it, but aside from bedroom activities there's little to do - the village offers a handful of pubs, antique shops and the twelfth- century Helmsley Castle, and there's the wonderful Hunters delicatessen which stocks gourmet treasures from fresh quails eggs to delicious tequila and cranberry pté, but I doubt the karaoke night will be enough to keep the Leeds glamour crowd entertained. Gemma Bowes
· The Feversham Arms, High Street, Helmsley, North Yorkshire (01439 770 766) has double rooms from £120 per night with full Yorkshire breakfast, and from £150 with dinner included.
Racquet Club, Liverpool
My definition of a perfect weekend break in a boutique hotel is to see how much I can achieve - watch TV, drink wine, eat chocolates, read, have sex - without leaving my room. Preferably without even getting out of bed. If pushed I'll pop out to the local art gallery (in this case Liverpool's Tate Modern) and I might even try a stroll (around the corner to Albert Dock). But in my view the object of a mini-break is to spend as much time in the room as possible without the hotel staff having to break down the door to check whether I'm still alive.
Liverpool's Racquet Club, which opened last June, is an eight-room hotel in the heart of the city district. The building dates to the 1870s. The bedrooms have wonderful high ceilings, tall windows and modern art on the walls. The much vaunted basement spa isn't up to much, but this is more than made up for by the stylish airy restaurant and comfy, unpretentious bar.
But, in the early hours of Sunday, this didn't count for much as the party in the function room on the floor below was in full swing.
Perhaps it was the fact that there was no sign of it winding down. Perhaps it was Englebert Humperdinck's 'Spanish Eyes'. Either way, I soon found myself at reception pleading for another room (they were all booked). 'Most people go out so it's not a problem,' said the embarrassed woman behind the desk. Forty minutes later she brought up earplugs. The last thing I remember was 'Oh What a Night' by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. I don't think I was dreaming. Louise France
· Racquet Club, Hargreaves Buildings, 5 Chapel Street, Liverpool (0151 236 6676). Rooms are £105 a night, continental breakfast is £6, full English £10.
