The Pig on the Beach

Our drive to the Pig on the Beach was long. We couldn’t avoid Friday-night traffic, but nevertheless there was a frisson of excitement in the air – before reaching our destination we had to take a short open-air ferry ride. Our kids had never experienced anything of the sort (and frankly neither had we since the invention of the Eurotunnel), so we were all a little nervous, but mostly intrigued by the prospect of a car floating on water. This thoroughly enjoyable prelude compounded my belief that we’d have a great weekend away – well, that and a very favourable weather forecast. We wended down some more narrow lanes and past yet more fields, before arriving at the Pig on the Beach. I already knew of the hotel and had reasonably high expectations, but on switching into anonymous-reviewer mode, I banished all preconceptions.

It was pitch black when we arrived; in the dark the hotel resembled a stately home with its impressive frontage and rolling gardens. This preview of beautiful Dorset countryside made me look forward to exploring; I was eager to get a good night’s sleep so that I’d be awake enough to rise early, throw open the curtains and marvel at it all. I also couldn’t wait to let the kids run around on the beaches within walking distance of the hotel.

We felt like we were entering a large yet cosy home as a member of staff with a big smile welcomed us. She could tell from our faces that we were eager to dump our things in our rooms, including our tired and cranky kiddies… So, without any faffing around, she took us up to our room; and within minutes of arriving, we were getting the kids ready for bed – an new Aikens family record. 

The hotel had been informed in advance that we were bringing our three- and five-year-old children along for a family weekend. Usually that means you get a rubber duck to put in the bath tub, or something of that nature, but it was such a great surprise – both for us and our girls – to see goodies waiting for them on their bed in personalised bags: a hand-crafted bucket and spade, alongside a bounty of sweet delights. Before we knew it they were tucked up in bed and fast asleep, so we could start to enjoy our weekend. We retreated to our own majestic room and found we’d been left a treat too: a bottle of champagne on ice. I poured two glasses and we both started to relax. 

Our room reminded me of the sort of country pile English heritage supports; it had a comfortable four-poster bed with crisp cotton sheets and heavy curtains. The bathroom was vast, with a cast-iron bath tub overlooking the garden and the sea through floor-to-ceiling windows. Now, onto the minibar and goodies cupboard: what a fabulous surprise, it was full to the brim with classic favourites like liquorice, Kendal Mint Cakes and artisanal ginger biscuits. My wife was especially thrilled.

I tried to book a massage for each of us on arrival, but sadly the spa was fully booked all weekend. It was a bit disappointing (I’d definitely recommend securing a spot in advance); however, this didn’t dampen our spirits: we soldiered on to dinner and were welcomed into a drawing room with a lovely roaring fire, lots of cosy, blanket-draped chairs to lounge in and cushion-laden sofas. Another smiley member of staff led us to a dining room housed in an antique, glass-walled conservatory. Filled with mismatched, old-school wooden furnishings, the space felt homey, and climbing plants and potted herbs gave it an English-country-garden feel. Menus arrived with a basket of bread, and drinks were offered. The staff knew exactly what level of service to give – very attentive, yet relaxed – and the sommelier was surprisingly good, making a real effort to find and suggest the right wines for us.

The Pig’s ethos is very much about locally grown, sourced, shot, caught and captured food. Some restaurants use local sourcing as an unfounded PR tool, whereas hotels like the Pig are very much the ‘real deal’. Their vegetables are grown within spitting distance of the restaurant; the pigs roll around in a muddy field by the main house; and the chickens lay eggs almost to order for breakfast. The food was therefore all very seasonal and consisted of simple, uncomplicated dishes with plenty of flavour, which was exactly what I wanted. The puds were also delightful… My only niggle was that it would have been nice to have some specials thrown at us.

I went to sleep dreaming about the hearty English breakfast I would have the next morning. It was just as my subconscious hoped it would be: black and white pudding, sausages, fried eggs, beans, tomatoes, bacon… To summarise, it was yummy.

Afterwards, the kids were eager to explore, so down to the beach with our buckets and spades we went, past some sheep, a ram, the chickens, the hotel’s very cute cabins and down a steep path to a near-deserted beach. The sun was beaming down and there were caves to venture into – the girls were over the moon. Thanks to the helpful hotel staff, we soon discovered there was plenty more to keep the kiddies entertained: a huge monkey park, a fairground, a steam train and some friendly horses in the stables.

We thoroughly enjoyed our stay: the hotel is so charming and such a delight, in that it’s not trying to be a trendy boutique hotel for spoilt Londoners. It’s such a laid-back affair – you feel relaxed from the moment you arrive, and when you have to leave all you can think about is when you’ll be coming back.