Grantley Hall

It’s grim up north, they say — a phrase I, as a proud Northerner, know to be false. I tolerate the expression only because it keeps the crowds away from this special part of the country. It's a place whose vibrant towns and cities gave us musical titans like The Beatles and Oasis; a place whose natural beauty inspired the works of Wordsworth and the Brontës; a place abundant in friendly accents, proper cuppas, and apparently... expensive sports cars. Or at least, that's how it appeared to us, as we drove our decidedly less glamorous Fiat through narrow country lanes lined with yellow rapeseed fields, only to pull up at Grantley Hall's Ferrari-lined front drive. 

I’m here with my mum for two nights at what is rumoured to be Yorkshire’s most 'extra' hotel. The renovation of this 17th-century, Grade II-listed manor house took over four years to complete, breathing new life into a once-crumbling estate. ‘Grantley has everything!’ a friend of mine commented when I told her I’d be visiting. And after a whistlestop welcome tour, it appears she was right. But before we set out exploring, we’d arranged lunch at The Orchard; a beautiful indoor-outdoor space that feels more like the South of France than North Yorkshire, with its floral decor, summer-fresh menu and Whispering Angel pop-up.  

After fuelling up on a generously sized watermelon and feta salad (and a chilled glass of rosé, of course), we were led to our room. Awaiting our arrival was a thoughtful welcome: a bottle of champagne, impossibly shiny apples and a sample of the estate’s homemade sloe gin. But those weren't the only things that captured our attention. I watched my mum’s eyes light up at the sight of the roll-top bath, fluffy robes and two cloud-like beds. And hey, what’s in the cat is in the kitten. But for now, there’s no time to waste. Though the north has many blessings, hot sunny days are typically not one of them, so when the gods grant you a balmy 26 degrees — in May no less — you take it.   

Flanked by grand Grecian columns, the 18-metre heated pool starts in the spa and ends in a crescent of primed gardens, where my mum and I set up camp for the afternoon on a pair of elegant (but more importantly, ergonomic) loungers. A glass of fizz and a disco nap later, we shuffled to the neighbouring spa in our robes and slippers for a facial, which my dry, urban skin enthusiastically lapped up. Back at the pool area, I was delighted to spy not one but two saunas, a duo of cold plunges and even a ‘snow room’, which, though entirely novel, proved quite a hard sell for my cold-blooded mother.  

I rose early the next morning and decided to hit the gym. It’s a large space, kitted out for serious workouts with free weights, squat racks and cardio machines, but also, unexpectedly, classic, Greek-style sculpture. If there’s one thing Grantley Hall has going for it, I thought, it’s range. This extends to the estate’s 38-acre grounds, where you’ll find everything from Japanese gardens (one of the first in the UK, too, designed around 1910 by Lady Jane Furness) to Victorian-style follies, Arcadian lawns, fountains and ancient oaks. On our morning walk, we also stumbled across the fragrant herb garden where chef Shaun Rankin sources some of the produce for his eponymous restaurant, one of four eateries within the hotel, soon to be followed by a fifth, a country pub in the heart of Grantley village. 

That evening, we stopped by Norton Bar — where the interiors are as cosy as they come, with autumnal-toned velvet seating and cherry-wood-panelling — for aperitivo. Here, guests are invited to select a book from the library shelves, each with a different cocktail recipe planted inside. Naturally, I opted for something containing two of my favourite ingredients: berries and champagne. We followed up with dinner at Eightyeight, the estate’s pan-Asian restaurant, whose name takes the form of a butterfly, an Eastern motif of renewal. The eight-course tasting menu was a real event, with impeccably presented dishes rolled out one after the other. The char siu aubergine and the Keralan curry made with sweet potato, red pepper and spinach were particular favourites of mine, but nothing topped dessert: single-origin chocolate with mugicha ice-cream, smoked sea salt caramel and milk chocolate sabayon. A good job I went the gym, in hindsight.  

As we reluctantly packed our bags the next morning ready to check-out, we heard a loud buzzing sound coming from outside. Peeling back the curtains, we witnessed a helicopter descending onto the front lawn of the main hall. Grantley really does have it all. And as for the 'grim up north' myth? Well, with staycation-ready places like this on our doorstep, we’re happy to let the world believe it.