Red Capital Ranch

The Red Capital Ranch sits on the site of a hunting lodge, once used by Manchurian emperors to escape the suffocating heat of old Peking, spend time in quiet reflection and stuff themselves on wild animals. Surprisingly little has changed in the Ranch’s transition from Qing Dynasty bolthole to modern boutique hotel: and, indeed, even getting there is only marginally easier than it would have been in the 18th century. It’s reached by an hour-and-a-half-long shuttle bus ride from the original Red Capital Lodge in the middle of Beijing – and 90 minutes on the road in China can feel an awful lot longer.

After being thrown around the back of the seatbelt-less vehicle, honked at incessantly by similarly carefree motorists and forced to contemplate our own mortality rather more than you might wish to on holiday, Mrs Smith and I arrived at the Red Capital Ranch in somewhat fragile spirits. And initial impressions do not immediately calm the nerves: entry to the Ranch is via a giant, forbidding wooden gate, behind which a dog barks hysterically in welcome. This is not a destination for the faint-hearted.

But if we were faint-hearted, we probably wouldn’t have been in China in the first place. And, in fact, almost from the second we’ve negotiated the entrance and come to a peaceful understanding with the energetic but unthreatening dog, the rest of the stay proves the perfect antidote to the sometimes draining tourist experience that is the rest of Beijing. As soon as our bags are taken by super-polite Tibetan porters and we’re welcomed into a lobby that sells handmade Manchurian glove-puppets, relaxation begins to set in. The Red Capital Ranch is a place where you can get many of the things that might elude you elsewhere in this country: clean air, silence, space, and an antique stone animal spirit watching over your door. Nobody messed with us, so it must have done its job properly.

The attempt to fashion modern accommodation out of relatively primitive timber-and-stone cottages could have ended up being either twee or exploitative, but the balance here is pretty much perfect. Each room is heated – a crucial point, as it’s very chilly outside – and comes with a comfortable bed and a tastefully decorated en suite. But you still feel properly and romantically immersed in rural Manchurian life. A river runs right through the middle of a site, a superb panorama of stars is visible in the pitch-black of the night, and the horses graze yards from your chalet.

The authentic atmosphere is largely down to the integrity with which this relatively new, and daring, project has been conceived and carried out. The staff are all local, and revere their environment; the building work was done with materials salvaged from government demolition. It’s all run along eco-friendly lines, too, and it’s refreshing to feel free of the Western guilt that sometimes comes along with the thrill of plonking yourself down in the middle of natural wonders.

And those wonders are considerable. This is a marvellous place to sample the jaw-dropping spectacle of the Great Wall, which runs all around the mountains that cradle the hotel. Even the most unadventurous, or lazy, can take in a piece of this legendary ‘thing to do before you die’ by venturing a couple of hundred yards outside the grounds of the ranch. For the more motivated, there are amazing walks to be had: anything from a bracing half-hour stroll through undergrowth to a hair-raising, monkey-like scramble to peaks that offer truly breathtaking views. The Ranch is well set up to help you make the most of it; you can join a guided walk or, if you want to strike out on your own, they’ll give you a cute hand-drawn map (with handy nuggets of advice – ‘don’t wear high heels: don’t laugh, people do this!!’). By prior arrangement they will even pack a lunch for you, ensuring that your intrepid exploration of inaccessible landmarks isn’t slowed up by a lack of sandwiches.

When you’re gearing up for these travails, or recovering afterwards, the Red Capital Ranch offers all manner of pampering. Once I had retreated to a hut for a thoroughly relaxing Tibetan massage, we dined in the restaurant, whose menu draws on a mixture of seasonal, local fruit and vegetables, and reassuringly hearty mains such as barbecued Mongolian beef and freshwater salmon. The food is truly delicious – fresh, smoky and painstakingly prepared – and we washed down with a bottle from the Ranch’s cellars, which, thankfully, have not been neglected in the attempt to preserve the 19th-century hunting-lodge chic. As a cold night falls (the Ranch closes from mid-November through to the start of March), a log fire is stoked up in the bar, and the tireless staff serve piping hot ginger tea in between more potent nightcaps.

Staying at the Red Capital Ranch is enormously well worth the effort it takes to get there and the nerve required to negotiate the yapping dogs, remote setting and dark, dark nights. It’s a unique establishment in an astonishingly picturesque setting and – just as its advertising promises – gives you the opportunity to feel, for a couple of days, like an ancient Chinese warlord. And who doesn’t want that?