Oddfellows

I’m relaxing on the sofa, messing around with my iPhone when I hear a shout from Mrs Smith on the top floor of our split-level suite.
‘I cannot believe you’ve done that.’ Uh-oh.
‘What have I done?’ I holler back. Feigning ignorance, I cast my eye towards the massive flatscreen.
‘You damn well know.’ I don’t… I don’t know at all. This romantic break to Chester is going to be ruined before it’s started; we’ve only been in Oddfellows for 30 minutes. There’s silence, then she descends the stairs and looks at me.
‘How the hell have you already managed to upload 37 Instagrams of this place?’ Phew.
‘What can I say? It’s just very Instagrammable.’ I smile sweetly. ‘I mean, just look at the place.’

Arriving at Oddfellows was somewhat dreamlike. After a short cab journey from the train station through the beautiful historic city of Chester, the elegant 17th-centry façade hadn’t been a huge surprise; but from the moment we’d ascended the steep staircase into Oddfellows it felt like we were falling down the rabbit hole.

The buzz from the sumptuous maple-wood Lounge Bar had instantly piqued our attention, but to reception we needed to go. Not to stand at a boring hotel desk, but to sit in fancy designer chairs (yes, I took photos of us in them); we admired the start of a parade of unique design touches. It’s flourishes like typewriters on the wall that make Oddfellows sparkle.

Formalities dealt with, we’re whisked through the secret garden bar to our room. Well, I imagine they’d hoped it had been whisking us; it slowed to a snail’s pace as I opened Instragram and started snapping some more. A life-size police line-up of animals comprises the wallpaper, unusual lights, antlers on the walls, a potting shed for a bar – this is the sort of place that redefines the word ‘quirky’ and has you instantly wanting to redecorate your own home.

I’m pretty positive that by the time we reached the room I’d said, ‘Oh! That’s cool’ at least 20 times. From the painting of an old-fashioned front door on top of the normal hotel-room door to mini-bar drawers labelled ‘eat me’, ‘drink me’ and ‘use me’. Think of Oddfellows as the theatrical and flamboyant lovechild of Tim Burton and Soho House.

There are no identikit rooms; some even have round beds if you’re feeling a little Austin Powers. With suites inspired by the likes of architect John Douglas (he who designed Chester’s landmark Eastgate Clock), Lawrence of Arabia cinematographer Peter Newbrook, and illustrator-humourist Randolph Caldecott, the rooms ooze eccentricity, in our case this is manifested in graffiti and doodle-cool wall covering, a travelling-trunk table and a bedside roll-top bath. Substance triumphs along with style though, and soon the soft bedding devours us whole and we lie back and admire how well thought-out this double-height room is in order to exploit all available space. Isn’t that the kind of thing you admire while in bed?

By morning, a hanging breakfast bag of fruit and pastries has found its way onto our doorknob. The in-room Nespresso machine hardly finishes pumping out coffee before Mrs Smith drags me out to help her do what she does best…. Con me into thinking we’re off out to explore a city when we’re actually going shopping…

The higgledy-piggledy split-level streets of Chester are charming and beautiful with their magnificent Gothic cathedral in the middle. And, as a Londoner, the friendliness of the locals is a constant delight; all so chatty and lovely, they make us southerners feel right at home. A short taxi journey later and we’re at the Cheshire Oaks Designer Outlet mall, home to the sort of bargains that mean Mrs Smith feels compelled to buy twice as much. On the way back our cab driver tells us how buzzing Chester is on a Saturday night as folks from Liverpool and nearby Wales descend, creating a glamorous party of convivial visitors. He points out the famous three-sided clocktower. ‘Why’s one face missing?’ I ask. ‘Oh it’s because they wouldn’t give Wales the time of day!’ he chuckles.

Come evening, our cabbie is proven right; Chester adopts a slick of glamour care of young socialites and glitzy couples. Meanwhile, instead of going glam ourselves with a whirl in Oddfellow’s casual-cool restaurant helmed by Michelin-star chef Simon Radley, we indulge our love of American-style barbecue food at the riverside Hickory’s Smokehouse. We fill our bellies with pulled pork and burnt ends served out of retro mess tins and platter boards until we can eat no more. However, Chester has other plans. We find ourselves in the fashionable Bar Lounge (not to be confused with Oddfellows own Lounge Bar), where we enjoy first-class cocktails on its bustling outdoor terrace until eventually it’s time to tackle the cobbled streets back to Oddfellows.

Resisting a nightcap, and a little under the influence, we stumble into the restored Victoria Caldecott Cottage which houses our room. From the window, I survey the party that is truly alive in the astroturfed Secret Garden below. Just like the hotel, it is a beautiful mess of design and style that reeks of well, awesomeness. Oh – if you speak to that Mad Hatter and he happens to be in need of a hotel recommendation for after his tea party, be sure to steer him straight to this wonderland.