Set just off the market square in impossibly cute Helmsley, on the edge of the North York Moors National Park, the Feversham Arms, a tastefully weathered inn, built in the local stone, has long been the village’s premier lodging.
The
core clientele has always been those interested
in country pursuits: shooting (there’s a secure gun room on site), walking and
riding (there are stables a five-minute stroll away). It has an all-weather
tennis court, a gym that belies the size of the hotel (not the usual broom
cupboard with weights) and a heated outdoor pool.
There are just 33 rooms, including several spacious suites. All come with Bang & Olufsen televisions (and the option to pipe sound into the bathroom), plump duck-down pillows, and duvets ensconced in sumptuous Egyptian-cotton sheets. My boyfriend likened it to kipping on cumulus. Decor is muted and modish. Our suite was amply proportioned, comfortably appointed and easy on the eye. Our vast bathroom, replete with L’Occitane goodies (Verbena-scented, of course), was designed for languid lingering. I liked the incense sticks and ‘sheep dip’ lavender bubble bath – a nice nod to Yorkshire, as was the work by local artists that adorn almost every wall.
The inn’s conservatory-style restaurant has echoes of an Eighties wine bar (including a display of empty bottles). The food is rich and filling, with a comprehensive, albeit not cheap, wine list to accompany it. Good breakfasts, too — the poached haddock is particularly recommended. Another bonus: room service comes without those swingeing “delivery charges” most hotels like to add, as if they’ve had to send the meal by FedEx.
Opportunities to offset excessive indulgence at the dinner table are plentiful. Walk out of the door and you are straight on the Cleveland Way — a three-mile stroll takes you to the atmospheric ruins of Rievaulx Abbey, once the greatest Cistercian centre in England. Other nearby attractions include Mount Grace Priory, Nunnington Hall and Castle Howard, of Brideshead Revisited and Barry Lyndon fame. And there are plenty of other walks in the vicinity, including a romp among the “bridestones” of Dalby Forest — sandstone outcrops carved into curious shapes by nature.
Simon Rhatigan, the hotel’s owner (responsible in his last post for launching the Serenity Spa at Seaham Hall in Co Durham, which is regularly voted the best in Britain) has equalled his past pampering success with the Verbena Spa. Verbena may come as a surprise those for whom a spa connotes white-walled minimalism and bowls of green apples. This, after all, is Yorkshire where a spade has never knowingly been called a gardening implement, so the Spa eschews all thoughts of Asian artiness in favour of good, honest, back-to-your-roots classic English country decor. Like the public areas and bedrooms, the spa is all about unintimidating luxury.
There are just 33 rooms, including several spacious suites. All come with Bang & Olufsen televisions (and the option to pipe sound into the bathroom), plump duck-down pillows, and duvets ensconced in sumptuous Egyptian-cotton sheets. My boyfriend likened it to kipping on cumulus. Decor is muted and modish. Our suite was amply proportioned, comfortably appointed and easy on the eye. Our vast bathroom, replete with L’Occitane goodies (Verbena-scented, of course), was designed for languid lingering. I liked the incense sticks and ‘sheep dip’ lavender bubble bath – a nice nod to Yorkshire, as was the work by local artists that adorn almost every wall.
The inn’s conservatory-style restaurant has echoes of an Eighties wine bar (including a display of empty bottles). The food is rich and filling, with a comprehensive, albeit not cheap, wine list to accompany it. Good breakfasts, too — the poached haddock is particularly recommended. Another bonus: room service comes without those swingeing “delivery charges” most hotels like to add, as if they’ve had to send the meal by FedEx.
Opportunities to offset excessive indulgence at the dinner table are plentiful. Walk out of the door and you are straight on the Cleveland Way — a three-mile stroll takes you to the atmospheric ruins of Rievaulx Abbey, once the greatest Cistercian centre in England. Other nearby attractions include Mount Grace Priory, Nunnington Hall and Castle Howard, of Brideshead Revisited and Barry Lyndon fame. And there are plenty of other walks in the vicinity, including a romp among the “bridestones” of Dalby Forest — sandstone outcrops carved into curious shapes by nature.
Simon Rhatigan, the hotel’s owner (responsible in his last post for launching the Serenity Spa at Seaham Hall in Co Durham, which is regularly voted the best in Britain) has equalled his past pampering success with the Verbena Spa. Verbena may come as a surprise those for whom a spa connotes white-walled minimalism and bowls of green apples. This, after all, is Yorkshire where a spade has never knowingly been called a gardening implement, so the Spa eschews all thoughts of Asian artiness in favour of good, honest, back-to-your-roots classic English country decor. Like the public areas and bedrooms, the spa is all about unintimidating luxury.
I’ve
never seen a relaxation room quite like Verbena’s. It is a vast jigsaw of
sink-in sofas in cosy creams and mossy greens, top heavy with plump cushions
and fronted by low tartan-covered tables that are scattered with a newsagent’s
worth of glossy magazines. If you require more reading matter the book shelves,
which also double as a room divider to keep the mood intimate, are weighed down
with leather-bound tomes. Lots of silky rugs and tactile knick-knacks warm
things up even more.
Through
the floor-to-ceiling windows, I could see the spa garden with a decked area
dotted with teak tables and chairs and a large hot tub for when the sun hits
this south-facing terrace. The garden has been designed by Matthew Wilson of
the Royal Horticultural Society, with borders of lavender, santolina, salvia
and geranium as well as its namesake, verbena.
There’s an outdoor swimming pool and a heat experience
that you can use prior to your appointment, as well as a saunarium,
aromatherapy and salt vapour rooms, an ice cave and monsoon feature showers. I
had a quick dip into each before snuggling into a chair where I was offered an
iced tea to sip while flicking through a copy of OK!.
There’s
also a small brasserie bar where you can order juices, smoothies, and even some
spa-tisserie cakes. If only my eye hadn’t fallen to the cover of Heat magazine where the ample flesh of
several bikini-clad celebrities was being held up for ridicule, I might have
been tempted but, instead, I decided to save myself until dinner. Fortunately,
Lisa, my therapist, soon appeared so that my resolve was no tested for too
long. The treatment room looked more like a Smallbone kitchen than your
standard Thai-inspired, sterile environment, with cupboards with round wooden
knobs and Elgar playing in the background. It was a thoroughly British affair. My
Elemis deep tissue massage (£75 for an hour), which began with a wonderfully
invigorating body brush, was heavenly.
The visitor book in the hotel lobby spills over with
praise: 'Lovely staff, fabulous room, amazing food' read one entry, 'Wonderful
as ever' read another. I didn't pen anything during our stay but I'll gladly
put fingerpads to keyboard here and say the Feversham Arms was exactly my cup
of (Yorkshire) tea.
The Feversham Arms, Helmsley; 01439 770766, www.fevershamarmshotel.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment