If these walls could talk, they’d speak of Drake, Raleigh and Elizabeth I herself — but today Boringdon Hall spins its magic through Michelin feasts, restorative rituals, and owlish encounters in champagne-soaked meadows. Jess Baldwin listens in…
“Don’t say the C word,” demanded the eccentric-looking, tweed-clad gentleman, an enormous owl perched upon his arm. “No, we don’t use that language around here.”
“I just said Cornwall,” whispered a flustered American lady, wriggling awkwardly in her petal pink Laurent-Perrier deck chair. Stifled giggles ricochet around the crowd as the bird takes flight, soaring past the 16th-century castellated mansion and back to the comfort of his tweedy limb like a feathery boomerang. I kept my head down, sipping my champagne, wondering if he could tell that I too was also bound for Cornwall in the morning.
If only the walls could talk, the burly bricks of Boringdon Hall would rattle off tales of skulduggery and scandal. Dating back to the Domesday Book, it’s seen Sir Francis Drake toast victory with Sir Walter Raleigh and witnessed Queen Elizabeth I bed down for the night.
Hundreds of years on and esteemed guests still find themselves drawn to the “enchanted place on the hill”. Yet, today this fabulous fortress, wrapped in beehive dotted wildflower meadows and pristine croquet lawns is home to a Michelin-starred restaurant and an award-winning adult-only spa. But it has been a long old road to get to this point, with the hall having been ravaged by fire, not once… but twice.
Thrown into a period of disrepair, at one point you could snap the whole lot up for just £5,000. Ironically, these days, you’d be hard-pressed to get much change from that if you booked the hotel’s Royal Suite for a week’s staycation — but then, where else can you stargaze from the comfort of your own hot tub, tucked inside the turret of an Elizabethan manor? Touché.
Yes, it’s fair to say that this Devonshire delight, on the cusp of Dartmoor, has nailed the art of fusing heritage with high-end hospitality. In the main house, rooms pay a respectful nod to Boringdon’s past with grand stone fireplaces, heavy drapery and more four-poster beds than a Bridgerton box set. A few steps away, the vibe shifts entirely.
In the sleek wellness wing, moss-covered living walls lead to light-filled, glass-fronted Wellness Rooms — minimalist, calming and designed with restoration in mind. Here, one can expect freestanding baths, yoga mats, wellbeing reads and an extensive product range courtesy of the hotel spa’s very own GAIA spa (everything from facial oil and toner to bath salts and sleep spray awaits guests staying in these zen-filled abodes).
Plus, the slick spa is just a hot stone’s throw away. Indoors, heat experiences cocoon the pool: a crystal steam room, a herbal sauna, heated beds and various showers that surprise and soothe in equal measure. But it’s the hydrotherapy pool I kept returning to — a warm, bubbling sanctuary that flows outdoors, pouring steam into the fresh Devonshire air. With the spa open until 10pm, it’s ideal for a spot of Dartmoor stargazing, wine in hand. The layout is deliciously disorienting; just when you think you’ve seen it all, another relaxation lounge or nap-worthy slumber room reveals itself — as if the building is gently conspiring to keep you there a little longer.
Those keen to indulge in a treatment face decision paralysis, with the spa menu rivalling a Dickensian novel in terms of pagination – you’ll find everything from facial yoga to “raindrop therapy” on offer here. The staff congratulated me on my excellent choice; the Everglowing Face and Body Treatment; a 90-minute head-to-toe ritual encompassing body-brushing, massage, lymphatic drainage and a full facial. They were right, I did choose well.
The spa is indeed a cracker (unsurprisingly it was awarded a 5 Bubble Luxury Award by the Good Spa Guide last year), but the ultimate jewel in Boringdon’s crown is its fine dining restaurant, Àclèaf. Having added a Michelin star to its 4 AA rosettes back in 2023, Àclèaf is undisputably the area’s hottest table. Residing in the former minstrels’ gallery the intimate eatery overlooks the wood panelled Great Hall, with its tapestries, carvings and mantle-topped fireplace. Here, on this hush hush mezzanine, Head Chef Scott Paton crafts meticulously presented seasonally-led dishes designed to showcase local produce in new and inventive ways, with a surprise or two along the way.
Busy soaking up the woody splendour unravelling beneath me, a Gusbourne in hand, I opted for the 4-course menu (£130pp), leaving it to the chef to surprise me, course by course. Visually, the meticulously composed crab starter takes the trophy – reminiscent of a glorious artisan wreath one might glimpse on a billionaire’s bucolic abode. The perfectly seasoned ring of Brixham’s finest crab was decorated with perfectly placed petals and leaves, a sunny mango emulsion and vibrant green coriander oil entwined in its centre.
A rich and tender veal sweetbread followed, topped with flecks of edible gold leaf (well, why the heck not!): succulent, delicious and just a little bit boujis – perfect. An artily presented Brixham-landed sole was next, complimented by pink grapefruit and espelette pepper – refreshing and light, which is lucky as the chocolate was to follow. Though, not before my mystery pre-desert, the result of a ‘pick your favourite shapes’ game that I was presented with upon my arrival.
Just hours later, the sweetbread still on my mind, I packed my bags for … cue hushed voice… Cornwall. But just ten minutes into my hour-long journey, I found myself pulling over, lured by the wild call of Dartmoor. Surrounded by sprawling moors and distant tors, it felt almost scandalous not to stop. After a short climb from the River Plym I reached the medieval stone cross which looked out across the river’s glassy shallows, where children frolicked in the early summer sun, wild ponies milling around like ghosts from the past.
Whilst other hikers were searching the horizon for one tor or another, I was busily scanning it for Boringdon Hall and its enormous owl. And in that quiet, sun-drenched moment I thought how funny it was that locals were so scared to speak the C-word in these parts. Sometimes, it’s not the final destination, but the journey to it which delights the most – sorry, Cornwall.
Historic Boringdon Hall Hotel & Spa has 55 beautifully appointed rooms and suites, an award-winning Gaia Spa and three distinct dining experiences, including Michelin-starred Àclèaf. For more information or to book, visit www.boringdonhall.co.uk.