A honeymoon cottage for every type of romantic
Not to name names, but back in the Midlands I used to know a guy who would bring his girlfriend a hot roast chicken back from the supermarket every Friday night, as a romantic gesture.
It was a weekly caveman-esque culinary ritual, which he started looking forward to even on a Tuesday. I never got to hear what she thought of his Casanova tactics. I mean, I guess it’s more practical than a dozen red roses? And I suppose their Saturday sandwiches were good? It worked for them anyway.
While my protein-pumped friend’s idea of a honeymoon break might well be two days the Nando’s in Derby’s city centre, that’s not for me. I love spicy rice as much as the next girl, but I’d want to run north.
Some of my friends are fans of English England – places with that Cath Kidston vibe. I’d send them to the Cotswolds – rose gardens, thatched roof cottages, cobbled lanes.
Others like to go somewhere that you can write home about. I think if you are a couple that revel in a bit of luxury and novelty then a hot tub is the thing. It’s bubbly – some people just love bubbles.
And then there’s the coast. Britain’s coastline is pretty stunning. The tumbling countryside round Whitby, the fresh sea air rolling into Oban.
The cities are great, I love cities – and you could have a really sophisticated time in Cheltenham, or maybe just a step away from London. But I don’t dream of cities. I dream of miles and miles of coastline, and hopping in a car to find a beach where there is no one, just the birds singing. Huge skies, long walks, late evenings, even longer conversations. Bring your walking boots, a baguette, a bottle of wine. Run down the sand and throw your phone into the sea.
Anyway, swoon, recently, I spoke to the couple who have designed this Treetop House.
It’s built around the views, and it’s a short walk from the beaches and the fisherman.
I don’t know if they sell ready roast chicken nearby, so my friend probably wouldn’t be all that bothered, but this is my kind of escape – the kind where I really would sit down on the sand to talk for hours, and end the evening by throwing my mobile phone into the sea.