Mont Rochelle

It can invite some awkward questions when you arrive to a renowned honeymoon destination…alone. Pulling up on my tod at the white pearly gates of Mont Rochelle (rather than with Mr Smith as advertised in my hotel booking), I was fully prepared to bumble my way through countless excuses about Mr Smith’s last-minute business trip. To my surprise, I was only ever asked the question once, quite understandably, by the security guard.

By the time I had made it up the long, curvaceous driveway to the front door of the hotel and was sat by the fireplace with a glass of welcome bubbly in hand, it was clear Mr Smith’s name would never be uttered again. Ms Smith was just as welcome flying solo. Such is the discretion at Sir Richard Branson’s luxury outpost in the Cape winelands.

As I sat sipping golden Cap Classique bubbles and admiring the eccentric art adorning each wall, the hotel manager, James, began regaling in an enthusiastic manner the endless activities I could busy myself with while staying at Mont Rochelle residence, from exploring the nearby nature reserve to winery-hopping on the Franschhoek tram. He even made the chivalrous offer to be my tennis partner on their outdoor court, should the mood take me. I explained I was more of a spa, wine and dine sort of type, and soon found myself booked in for a facial, wine tasting and three course dinner. Now that sounds like a Ms Smith sort of holiday.

Bubbles duly downed, another equally – if not more – enthusiastic member of the Mont Rochelle staff, Gabriel, escorted me to my abode for the weekend and a whistle stop tour of the grounds. Sat high on a vine-laden hilltop, Mont Rochelle appears from below as a modest, thatched-roof farmhouse fashioned with the typically quaint Cape Dutch architecture. Colourful gardens of spring flowers immediately surround it and vine rows lead the way down like the thick knitting of a blanket towards the historic town of Franschhoek, nestled at the bottom of the valley just 10 minutes away.

If you look upwards from the horizon, the rocky faces of the Franschhoek mountains tower in the distance as majestic birds of prey swoop overhead marking their territory over the 39 hectare estate. Every square inch of the view is picture worthy, and the panoramic terraces and countless windows take full advantage of their enviable location.

As Gabriel ushered me via the outdoor heated pool and handsome gardens (with lawn games strewn artfully in different corners), we arrived to my room for the weekend: a Cabernet room. Fittingly there was a bottle of Mont Rochelle’s Cabernet Sauvignon red blend on the side table, and Gabriel went to great lengths to explain that I am invited, in fact expected, to drink it. Along with everything else in the minibar: the chocolates, the cookies, the chilled Chardonnay – it’s all for the taking. I thank him. No-one likes an ambiguous minibar, and I am clearly not his first solo Ms Smith visit.

With a private patio and garden just beyond the sliding glass doors, there’s an assortment of blankets and duvets at my disposal for picnics, star-gazing and ruminating over wine. I opt for the latter and relax with a glass of said Chardonnay and my book before my spa date later.

It’s the little touches that make Mont Rochelle a fun place to stay. Now I’ve never met Mr Branson, but I have a feeling he has a sense of humour. A trio of grumpy-looking pink and green porcelain pugs guard my bedside; there’s a rubber duck on my bathrobe (‘You can keep it, it’s a gift!’ enthuses Gabriel); the ‘Service Please’ sign actually reads ‘Time for a top up!’; and the instructions for the Bose wireless speakers tell you to ‘Remember to turn up the volume!’. Mont Rochelle is a hotel that actually wants you to have fun.

Fun here can come in many forms but the Africology spa, using local and luxurious essential oils and plant extracts, is my chosen manner. Perhaps all too obviously for a wine scribe, I’ve opted for the grape stem facial, and I’m made privy to a whole new style of wine therapy. My spa therapist Bronwyn gets to work scrubbing, steaming and massaging away the years, and I leave on cloud nine – radiant and ready to explore the charming town of Franschhoek on an afternoon stroll before a visit to their own boutique winery.

The winter rains arrive just in time as I return to the hotel for the evening and head to their in-house restaurant. There’s something quite exquisite about a candlelit dinner alone, and even more exquisite when it involves being at Miko restaurant. On a chilly winter night, the rain on the windows make the lights of Franschhoek town glisten like a mirage and the other candlelit tables and their respective Mr & Mrs Smiths became a glamour glow in the background to my own romantic three-course culinary experience.

The warming, fusion flavours of the Cape Malay please my palate and a healthy dose of sunny Cape wine lubricates my mind. Sometimes it isn’t about the person you’re with or the weather you are having, sometimes a good holiday is about enjoying some quality ‘me’ time. And, just sometimes, that means running yourself a hot bath, pouring yourself a glass of wine, and turning up the Bose. That’s just what I did that night at Mont Rochelle, and it was magical.