The Gallivant

As devoted and longstanding East Sussex dwellers, two days at The Gallivant presented Mr Smith and I with the ultimate staycation: a chance to escape the everyday demands of life with three small children and ensconce ourselves in the cosseting comforts of this spoiling place not 40 minutes from home, and just a five-minute walk from one of the greatest stretches of sand on England's South Coast. Slightly unprepossessing from the outside, its low-slung buildings are set just off the main road into Camber, and have the air of a 1950s motel — but, from the phenomenally fancy cars in the carpark (our decrepit Volvo considerably lowered the tone) to the luxuriously appointed rooms and acclaimed food, that is where the similarity ends. 

We'd already received a charming call from the 'Guest Happiness Team' the day before our stay to explain everything available to us, so it was no surprise to be warmly welcomed by another incredibly friendly member of staff, who showed us to our Luxury Garden Room along a path wildly planted with gorgeous perennials. The room was cleverly designed, with a huge bath tub calling like a siren, but which could be screened off from the bedroom at will. I loved the vintage swimming costumes, framed to decorate our bedroom walls, found throughout the main spaces of the hotel, alongside classic photographs of cheeky Seventies beach babes. French doors led out to a small terrace, which was also prettily planted and provided a perfect spot to enjoy the ice-cold bottle of Gusbourne sparkling wine that had been thoughtfully left in our room, with a card congratulating us on our wedding anniversary. 

This generosity of spirit set the tone for our stay and proved typical of our time there. Having arrived a little later than planned, we’d officially missed the daily four o’clock cake selection, yet this was quickly rustled up for us, and we settled in with a cup of tea and Scrabble in the games room. Treats come thick and fast at The Gallivant, and not long after, it was time to choose from the day's ‘English wine at five’ — a complimentary glass from one of the increasing number of excellent local winemakers. It was great to try something different, and a brilliant way to introduce local wines to a new audience. If we’d felt like venturing out, we could have booked tours through the hotel to a number of nearby vineyards, but our ambitions didn’t stretch much further than bed and the beach.

We retreated to our room to refresh for dinner and then enjoyed the first of several excellent meals at a table for two on the sun terrace. Almost everything on the menu has been locally sourced and was deliciously described — I was very grateful to be staying two nights, because choosing would have been almost impossible. Thankfully the mercurial English summer blessed us with sunshine so we could dine alfresco, and we retired to a well-fed sleep. Perhaps a little too well, as we managed to doze through our alarm and missed the morning yoga class on the beach. We consoled ourselves with a lazy breakfast in the sunshine and divvied up a smorgasbord tray from the kitchen that included powerful ginger and turmeric shots and fresh juices, homemade granola with fruit compote, smoked salmon and fine cheeses, plus our pick from the extensive array that was also laid out on the breakfast-buffet table. Special mention to the pink grapefruit halves served in very chic stainless-steel coupes. 

Feeling the pull of the Sands, we helped ourselves to the beach blankets, towels and stripy deck chairs that are offered for the use of all guests and padded up and over the vertiginous dunes to the beach beyond, whiling away several happy hours swimming, lolling, reading and chatting, before rinsing and repeating the cake-wine-dinner progression of the day before — but with the addition of a pre-dinner cocktail back in the dunes.

This time, we’d learnt our lesson and set two alarms, so we were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for yoga on the beach the following morning, and it was so magical, we deeply regretted our tardiness the day before. The vast expanse of the shore at Camber is the perfect place for it. 

There is more than enough to keep you busy for a few days in and around this area. The ancient cobbled streets of Rye and all its charming shops and antiques are a short drive away; and a little further in the opposite direction, you can seek out the bleak beauty of Dungeness, visit Derek Jarman’s famous Prospect Cottage and devour a freshly landed scallop flatbread from the incomparable Snack Shack on the shingle. Luckily for us, with the luxury of already knowing those places intimately, we could sink into the blissful indulgence of doing very little in grand style and comfort, making but one small excursion from our indolence to visit the St Thomas à Becket church at Fairfield on Romney Marsh — a place so picturesque, it has featured in a number of films. To see the wonders inside, first you must solve the treasure hunt of where to find the giant iron key that unlocks this little wooden gem. Answer: the farmhouse gatepost on the lane over the field. 

On our final morning, reluctant to leave without one last moment in the sun on the Sands, we asked if we could take a coffee to the beach. Not having any takeaway cups, the hotel’s Head of Happiness (that is her actual job title) made us two perfect lattes in hotel mugs and packed us off with blankets to sit high in the dunes and take in the huge glittering sea and sky in peace one last time. After possibly the most scenic cup of coffee of our lives, we returned the mugs that had been entrusted to us, and were cheerily waved off back to our real lives, feeling rested and restored.