Trevose Harbour House

There’s blue and white and then there’s Blue and White. Trevose Harbour House makes an art of it. Sheltered in a cobblestone alleyway, just a pebble’s throw from Porthminster and Harbour beaches, the whitewashed townhouse is adorned with a stylish turquoise sign, prompting many a passing tourist to speculate – loudly – on what charms might await inside. Royal-blue wallpaper and blue-and-white art give the lounge area soul, while a large bookcase houses artfully placed books (blue), handcrafted vases (also blue) and home-made strawberry jam (not blue). After arriving early on the sleeper train, we are generously invited to breakfast by photogenic owners Angela and Olivier. Friendly in a polite, discreet sort of a way, they’re a walking embodiment of this small hotel’s values: chatty but softly spoken, working a relaxed, immaculate and faintly nautical chic.

We wolf down Olivier’s homemade honey-soaked granola with a side of fruit before trying the full English and the veggie alternative (all made using farmers’ market finds): the focus on goat’s cheese is almost delicious enough to lure this dedicated meat-eater to the Other Side. Tea and coffee are free flowing – on learning that I drink neither, our hosts are full of alternatives rather than the usual astonishment. Gradually, fellow guests wind their way downstairs to breakfast in open-plan reception room: mostly smart international couples.

With time to kill before check-in, we explore St Ives with a map marked up by Angela. The world famous Tate St Ives is closed for a grand refurbishment so we trot along to the Barbara Hepworth Museum, housed in the studios of the late great sculptor. The gallery’s sculpture gardens are a highlight, not least because we encounter one of St Ives’ famous friendly cats, now apparently significantly outnumbered by dogs. A visit to the characterful and slightly ramshackle St Ives Museum gives us the lowdown on said felines, as well as the many fishing dramas in the town’s past.

Eventually, it’s midday, so we are officially allowed to have a pint at the Sloop Inn, St Ives’ ancient harbourside pub with a good selection of ales and ciders, if not reasonably priced sandwiches. We are rescued from premature inebriation by a phone call from Angela offering an early check-in. Our room is number two of six, a spacious bedroom overlooking the Warren's pretty band of lanes. It’s tastefully decorated in, you guessed it, blue and white – though there’s a bold and very successful dash of brown in the designer wicker lamps hanging over the bed. Ercol benches, Designers’ Guild floral prints, vintage trunk nightstands, upcycled filament lighting are among the unique touches such as the Moroccan-door headboard in Room One and the glass-block feature wall in Room Four. The bathroom is, as Mr Smith puts it, the largest he’s ever seen without an actual bath in it. But there are double sinks and the power shower is alluring and it is stocked up with Neal’s Yard products – and their salubrious organic scent lingers in the room. Quirky visual touches include a white sheepskin rug thrown over the chair in the bathroom, and an adorable blue and white china kettle – appropriate in a town that has a Cath Kidston rather than an Argos.

After advising us that restaurants get very booked up, Angela has printed out an itinerary: first up she’s wangled us a table at Blas Burgerworks down the road for their chargrilled delights. A bustling, jolly place with big shared tables, it delivers a special which is exactly that (yes – more Cornish goat’s cheese) and a fun retro soundtrack (Galore: The Singles from the Cure does not go unappreciated by these Smiths). We share a table with a lively group of ladies but still have a corner for a nostalgic romantic chat – Close to Me was our wedding dance, after all.

Back at Trevose, we grab a couple of whiskies from the honesty bar and hit our cute room. The only immediately motivating factor to leave the blissfully comfortable bed in the morning is the quality of the breakfast. (Potato scones with scrambled egg and salmon? Bircher muesli or a full fry up?) We take Oli and Angela’s advice for a 90-minute coastal walk which proves breathtaking on an obligingly sunny day. There’s just time to pop into Scarlet Wines deli before jumping back on the train at Lelant Saltings to St Ives. Waiting for us is a crammed hamper we’ve pre-ordered from the hotel. Taking it to the top of a hill, we manage to deter a peckish gull for long enough to devour a basket of salmon sandwiches, cucumber and brie sandwiches, posh crisps, and what my partner declares to be the best pork pie he’s ever had. Oh, and champagne, obviously. As Trevose Harbour House doesn’t have a restaurant, this is a decidedly pleasant lunch solution.

Somehow, we have room for dinner at the much-fêted Porthminster Cafe, clearly a destination restaurant for well-heeled tourists and residents of the surrounding area. Cheerfully busy staff offer a seafood-dominated menu: the crab chowder is a delight, although the beef fillet steak comes a close second.

May Day arrives and our hosts kindly offer us a late checkout so that we can witness the ceremony: a cheerfully earnest, slightly chaotic affair staffed by dignitaries of the ilk to hold microphones at arms’ length. As a result, we’re not quite sure exactly what went down, but we do know a juvenile May Queen and King were crowned, and we do know the Sloop is a great place to watch the parade. Oh, and it’s also the spot to get roped into being extras on a pilot for a local TV show. But that’s another story. Most of all we know that this is a weekend we will always remember. And, should we return to St Ives, we can be sure Trevose Harbour House is where we will stay.