Timbrell's Yard

Nestled on the edge of the River Avon is a blonde stone building, humble and impressive. Around it are lofty green trees wrapped in winding roots, and wildlife – proper squirrels and pure white swans.

The building, the waitress proudly tells Mr Smith and I over dinner, is a Grade II-listed old dye mill now known as Timbrell’s Yard, our home for the next couple of nights.

From the moment we step inside we notice the considered and meaningful effort to pay homage to that original design – well-loved wooden surfaces, a stone fireplace with a wood burner, exposed brickwork, beams… There’s the natural scent of damp logs, chopped for the stove, and – even better – the aroma of something homely and sweet baking away somewhere close.

Which is all to say if you’re looking for a flashy, silver-spoon stay, this is not your place. The Yard is closer to an old-fashioned inn and I love, love, love it for that. The open bar and restaurant give the hotel a pubbish charm which extends to its cosy furnishings and warm atmosphere.

This is not a hotel to dip in and out of while eating and drinking elsewhere – you wouldn’t want to. The booze is good, the food is amazing and the people are welcoming and kind.

There’s a relaxed informality about the whole place which, if you’re willing to get involved with, will make your stay that much more enjoyable. Staff muck in without a sense of hierarchy or snobbery. They’re busy but happy to chat, friendly, accommodating, know their stuff and seem to have a genuine love for the place. It’s infectious. You feel like you’re staying the night at some big family party, rolling up to bed after a big meal. It’s not difficult to imagine how adorable Timbrell’s Yard must be at Christmas time.

My only slight sigh of disappointment comes in our room. Perhaps this is because we were so spoilt on arrival but I’d liked to have seen that devotion to the design of the mill and its character captured here. It was a little too modern, a little lacking in personality. Still, it’s clean, simple and comfortable; all white linen and big windows over the river. (And to be fair, completely accurate to the photographs on the website, the hotel is not trying to hide anything from its future guests.)

There’s no bath, which I do miss – unless I’m away for work, a tub is a usually a must for a holiday. And there’s no phone in the room either, which means going downstairs if you want to ask a member of staff something, but I kind of like that in the end. It makes you feel at home – like you live at the pub, which was quite fun, for obvious reasons.

The food at the hotel is better than good. Overseen by chef Tom Blake, the menu is hearty and scrumptious. Both nights I have anxiety over which dessert to order. And, oh, the chips! The chips are unrealistically crunchy and fluffy at the same time, like mini canoes of roast potato. When I’m handed a tin of them to myself I sort of half expect to be arrested. All of these get to be mine…?

As for breakfast, it is hands down the best hotel breakfast I’ve ever had. An earnest offering on a large wooden kitchen table with homemade granola, yoghurt, fresh juice, jams and buttery pastries (and Marmite – thank god) all followed by an impressive menu from the kitchen: local and organically sourced farm produce; homemade porridge; baked beans; avocado on toast; freshly baked bread… Yum, yum, and yum again.

Full disclosure: there isn’t a huge amount to do in Bradford-on-Avon, though Mr Smith and I don’t mind that. My short morning run fulfils the escape from city life I was promised – butterflies, babbling sheep and plenty of fresh country air. There are cobbled streets, a couple of bric-a-brac shops and, less than a minute’s walk from Timbrell’s Yard, the most extraordinary teahouse tucked inside a thatched-roof cottage with low-beamed ceilings, sloping floors and a lot of ornaments. It’s like stepping back in time – chintzy cups, floral saucers, doilies everywhere, the girls in aprons, hats and everything. The Victoria sponge, lemon cake and scones with clotted cream served here are the real deal. And if you need a bit more city life, Bath is just a short drive away and has everything you could want or need, including its famous baths.

If you’re looking for tranquility and a slower pace of life, though, Bradford-on-Avon (only two and a half hours drive from London) is a romantically charming spot perfect for snuffling through odd shops and walking down tangly little lanes stuffed with clusters of crumbly houses and curios. At night, it gets really dark and the stars are really bright, the air is really clear and the cake (and the ice cream, and the cheese) is just, well, really good. Timbrell’s Yard suits its surroundings perfectly.