Tylney Hall
Rotherwick, Hook,
Hampshire,
England,
United Kingdom,
RG27 9AZ

Telephone: +44 (0)1256 764881
Fax: +44 (0)1256 768141

www.tylneyhall.co.uk

When something is faultless; much like that girl in the sixth form that everybody wanted to a. look like, b. be friends with, c. copy and d. date – you end up praying for the day that she’d come in to school hosting some sort of parasitic twin of a spot or something equally as ‘unfortunate’. I’d like to say that Tylney hall’s carpets weren’t fluffy enough or that the quality of the cotton sheets caused my sensitive skin to come up in a rash. But that would just be for the sake of shadenfreude. Yes, it’s pretty much perfect. Sigh.

Pulling out of Hook station our taxi driver looked suspicious and puzzled. THE Tylney Hall we were going to? As opposed to that famous local chippie Tylney Hall?, I barked back laughing far too overzealously whilst looking at my partner for joke validation. I could tell he could tell that I could tell that my tracksuit bottoms and pavement licked trainers were not THE Tylney Hall appropriate attire.

True. I wafted through the palatial lobby like some sort of noxious SE1 odour, embarrassingly trying to concoct some sort of pashmina – esque ‘throw’ out of a cardigan which could pass as a SW1 ‘folly’. Clearly, Sunday afternoons at Tylney Hall is where the whole of Hampshire convenes for a spot of tea and crumpets. The panelled reception room was awash with gentlemen in tweeds and ladies in lilacs and taffeta; polite murmurings peppered with clinks of china and stirrings of spoons frolicked in the air with scents of lilies and yellowed pages of ancient library books. A picture perfect afternoon in England’s green and pleasant land with me, sheepishly, looking about as poetic as Dizzy Rascal.

After some swift sartorial adjustments in our ridiculously large bedroom complete with four poster bed (with separate living space area that could house a small country) we escorted ourselves on a grand tour of the hotel and grounds (I advise a seriously good pair of walking shoes) On inspection, weaving in and out of hidden coves, labyrinths of corridors and manicured gardens we concurred that Tylney Hall really is everything you’d expect from a luxury country hotel – (which was a correctional school for boys which prior to that was a hospital which even further back was a private stately home.)

 Firstly, there’s enough wood panelling to keep Mr Sheen in a job until he actually hates the jobs you hate too and secondly there’s all the lovely stately home hallmarks such as ubiquitous paintings of very grand looking previous residents with long moustaches and women strolling with ferrets on leads. Throw in a seasoning of out-of-print leather bound books, four poster beds, vases full of the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen and staff carrying silver platters of delightful little things you’d like to pop in your mouth and then say exquisite very grandly, and out pop wide eyed 'THE Tylney Hall'? phrases from local cabbies - as if it were some Voltarian Eldorado.

I think you can tell by now I’m quite animated when it comes to anything which make taxi drivers say,’ THE so and so?’ Perhaps it’s the childlike delight of somewhere being the exact replica of a mental image you built of a place you were told you’d be going to which was very far away. Like a Jane Austen themed Disneyland, but in Hampshire.

Tylney Hall is exactly what an English country hotel should be –  lush gardens dappled in intermittent sunlight, outdoor swimming pool, secret annexes dripping in ivy, vintage Rolls Royces in the yard, children playing croquet on the lawn and gentlefolk wearing tweed and taffeta drinking tea. Oh do bring me my chariot of desire!

Sometimes, just meeting expectations is enough to render something or somewhere faultless. And it’s a rare quality these days. Hotels are all preoccupied with fusion this or neo that. Tylney Hall has no allusions to its existence or purpose– it’s traditional, it’s ridiculously charming, it serves tea in china pots and makes American tourists grab hold of each others’ chubby little hands squealing quotes from one Bronte novel or another. Yes Mr Darcy, quaint, quite.

The airs and graces of Tylney Hall don’t come cheap. At over £300 a night, a stay at this grade II listed manor isn’t exactly wallet friendly. But if you’re after a little respite with all the lace and frills, THE Tylney Hall ( we overheard yet another person accentuate the THE whilst talking on her mobile) certainly delivers – all 66 acres of it.

Tylney Hall Summer 2 -4- 1 offer: www.tylneyhall.co.uk/241.html

Facilities

Comprehensive leisure facilities, in a glorious setting, provide the perfect tonic after a busy day.

For summer days, the outdoor pool, tennis courts and croquet lawn compete for your attention. In winter the gym and indoor pool, which features a whirlpool, offer a more comfortable workout. There is an 18-hole golf course adjacent to the hotel.

Vanessa Wozniak