The Credentials
The Bridge
Situated in the picturesque village of Prestbury, on the bank of the River Bollin, The Bridge is a pretty Grade II listed building dating from 1626. Outside it is whitewashed and quaint, with visible beams and leaded windows; the inside walls have been painted a moody dark teal matt, the ceilings white, the woodwork white gloss. Sofas and armchairs in the lobby are upholstered in teal and old gold velvet, arranged around open fireplaces. There is a pleasing decorative theme of old-fashioned typewriters, old hardback books and antique suitcases; the wooden staircase is carpeted in a grey herringbone tweed – a nod to the flat caps of the hotels’ collective name, perhaps?
Outside at the back, there is a large dining area, with wooden tables and benches piled high with woollen blankets in the signature grey tweed. The overall impression is of understated, relaxed country luxury. It is a deservedly popular wedding venue, and must be lovely in spring and summer when the gardens and river banks are in full bloom.
The Courthouse
Bang slap in the middle of the historic town of Knutsford (home to Elizabeth Gaskell, author of Cranford), The Courthouse, dating from 1818, is suddenly visible as you round a corner. Wow. A wide stone staircase leads to four enormous pillars supporting the roof (lit up at night to great effect) in the neo-Palladian style popular in the Georgian era. The entire building is made from glorious, golden stone. My husband Andy says, ‘this must have been pretty intimidating for defendants as they were led to the dock.’ Indeed.
Inside, it is no less grand, with soaring ceilings, a steep staircase carpeted in pale blue leading to rooms upstairs, the dining room (the original court) to the right of the reception desk (above which a sign in neon lighting reads ‘you are not here to be judged’), huge, impressive reception room to the left; the Friday we were there it was being prepared for a Great Gatsby-themed party the following day.
Again, it is a popular wedding venue, and you can certainly see why.
Sleep
The Bridge
Our Flat Cap Elite room is cosy and extremely comfortable with a large mahogany sleigh bed piled high with teal and old gold velvet cushions, the same paintwork (dark teal matt-painted walls, white gloss woodwork) as the downstairs rooms. Double glazing inside the ancient leaded bay windows protects us from the elements; curtains are in a tweedy grey check that echoes the carpet on the stairs. By contrast, the floors are an elegant polished parquet.
There is a large wooden trunk at the foot of the bed, and a fun 60s Austin Powers retro/90s Britpop style Union Jack old-fashioned dial-up telephone on the bedside table.
The bathroom is lovely, with Spanish/Moroccan patterned tiles in shades of blue and white underfoot and large white metro tiles on the whitewashed walls, from which visible beams protrude at angles. A sign, rather charmingly, pleads with us to be patient with the plumbing, reminding us of the building’s vintage. Fluffy white towels, waffle cotton robes and full-sized white bottles of vegan, cruelty-free, sustainable and really very nice-to-use toiletries complete the picture.
The Courthouse
Our elegantly high-ceilinged bedroom is situated at the top of a long staircase and painted dark forest green, its white ceiling and gloss-painted woodwork reminiscent of décor at The Bridge. Here the similarities end, for dominating the room is a grand four poster, a large original turquoise tiled fireplace and mantelpiece piled with old hardback books (including Cassells’ Latin Primer) line one wall and curtains are lush teal velvet over a turquoise Liberty print blind. The overall effect is magnificent.
The bathroom is equally impressive, with a claw-footed roll-topped bath, twin basins and a thundering power shower, furnished with the same fluffy towels, waffle cotton robes and toiletries with unimpeachable eco-credentials that we encountered at The Bridge. The floor is black and white tiled, lighting at the mirrors over the twin basins warm and flattering.
On the landing outside the bedroom door a slightly sinister bronze cast of a human skull in a glass dome atop a pretty turquoise-painted chest of drawers leers disconcertingly at us, reminding us of the fates of countless unfortunate miscreants formerly jailed in the underground cells that stretched as far as the police station on the opposite side of the road in one direction, Boots on the high street the other.
Dine
The Bridge
The flagstoned dining room is a very congenial space, with a bar area at one end, the ceiling soaring to double height over the eating bit. The tables are wooden, with comfortable tan leather seating. The walls are painted the same dark teal-y blue matt as in the rest of the hotel, with unpainted wooden beams, the window frames white gloss. There is a large open fireplace and enormous gilt-framed mirrors; neon writing above the bar spells out ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you’. It feels comfortable, cossetting, and soon the long, severely delayed train journey from London is but a distant memory; this is helped by the swift delivery of a couple of cocktails: Appletini for me, Papa’s Old Fashioned for Andy.
I start with filo baked feta with honey, grapes and rosemary, a sublime combination of flavours and textures, the sweetness of the grapes and honey contrasting beautifully with the salty feta, the filo adding a welcome element of crunch. Really delicious, in fact, the outstanding dish of a very good meal. Andy’s generous portion of chicken liver parfait with sweet brioche toast is exemplary, taken to new levels with an exceptional homemade chutney.
To follow, my delicate fillet of sea bass is perfectly cooked, flaking easily from the bone, sitting on a mound of creamy clam and mussel risotto, enrichened with dill oil. Andy’s herb-crusted rump of lamb with cavolo nero, creamed mashed potato and a minted jus is blackened on the outside, perfectly pink and tender within, the vegetables nicely cooked, the mash well-seasoned, sweet meat complemented by its rich minty jus. For pudding, we both go for the crème brulée, which our friendly Bulgarian waitress Emilia brulées at the table with a blow torch – a nice touch.
To drink, after the cocktails we share a bottle of Nocturne Melon Blanc, which is lovely and light, slightly pétillant on the tongue. We follow this with a 50cl bottle of Il Tenuta Cascinone, a Moscato pudding wine. After this, we retire to the bar with a couple of large Grand Mariners. Sometimes rail travel in this country renders such measures entirely necessary.
The following morning, breakfast is laid out for the hotel guests. We see that the room is flooded with light during the day via the large bay windows at the back – which lead out to the aforementioned outside dining area. From a menu offering options of a Full English, Eggs Benedict or Florentine and a variety of omelettes, meat-loving Andy chooses the Vegetarian Special – grilled Portobello mushroom and tomato on sourdough toast with spinach, avocado and a perfectly poached egg – and surprises me by raving about it.
After last night’s blowout, I can only manage some Special K and three slices of ripe, juicy melon. Tea is served in nice old-fashioned pots, one apiece, with mini bottles of milk. It all feels very civilised.
The Courthouse
Barristers restaurant, as mentioned, is situated in the actual old court and is a high glass-domed-ceiling-ed beauty, complete with a large olive tree growing in the middle of the room. A large, well-stocked bar runs along the back of it (which used to be the dock, we’re told. Eeek). The Friday night we eat there the place is buzzing, heaving with le tout Cheshire it seems, jollied along with live music from an excellent duo (singer/pianist and guitarist) doing covers of classic 60s and 70s rock. I’m old enough not to like music when I’m eating in the general scheme of things, but with a band this good we go with the flow and have an enormous amount of fun – a highly enjoyable evening.
We start with cocktails – Andy’s a Raspberry Collins, mine a thing of beauty made with local bramble gin and Chambord over crushed ice. Yum yum YUM. Then, from a menu slightly less ambitious than that at The Bridge, we share starters of padron peppers, olives and bread with balsamic vinegar and olive oil for dipping, followed by a rib-eye steak for Andy with an intriguing-sounding garlic, ginger & soy caramel jus, accompanied by salt and pepper chips. He couldn’t see how this would work, combining the South East Asian flavours of soy, ginger and garlic with chips, but was happy to be proved wrong – it was all delicious, savoury and oh-so-moreish. My sirloin steak with triple-cooked chips and peppercorn sauce was also scrumptious, cooked perfectly medium rare, chips crunchy on the outside, meltingly soft within, creamy peppercorn sauce bringing the whole lot together beautifully.
After last night, we skip pudding and are much more moderate with our alcohol intake, sharing a modest bottle of Pinot Grigio, though Andy does have a large glass of full-bodied Malbec with his steak.
At breakfast the next day our friendly local waitress tells us how fascinated she is by the hotel’s history; you can tell all the people working here are genuinely proud of their jobs, and rightly so. The breakfast menu is the same as at The Bridge, so feeling less fuzzy-headed today, we both plump for the vegetarian breakfast, and jolly nice it is too, hearty yet healthy-tasting.
Who Goes There?
The Bridge
Wealthy residents of Prestbury (see Out and About) – a mixed group of 30-somethings for dinner, a large group of ladies of a certain age enjoying a coffee morning, and two couples with babies having lunch. It feels very much like a hub of village life. Amongst the actual hotel guests, a very well-behaved hen party (about 5 women in their early thirties discussing dresses and favours over breakfast), a lone middle-aged business traveller, and several discerning couples enjoying a mini-break.
The Courthouse
Again, it seems very much a part of Cheshire’s social scene, with the restaurant packed on a Friday night, and preparations for the utterly fabulous-looking Great Gatsby-themed party on Saturday. People up here like to party, with no expense spared.
Out and About
The Bridge
We decide to explore Prestbury and soon discover it’s a proper working village, with notices on the church message board about meetings for retired businessmen, local ladies’ coffee mornings, after-nursery classes and so forth. Having grown up in London, I am fascinated by this sort of thing; having grown up in the country, Andy less so. Anyway, the pretty 17th-century church seems as good a place to start as any, being directly opposite The Bridge (very handy for weddings). As soon as we set eyes on the churchyard we see that it is carpeted in crocuses and snowdrops, pale mauve and white, with the odd flash of yellow. Quite magical. Outside the churchyard lie the ancient village stocks; not quite so magical.
Our exploration of the village reveals plenty of signs of wealth: expensive cars (Porsches, Jaguars, Bentleys), designer boutiques, estate agents advertising properties for £million plus, flash travel agents, and pubs with champagne happy hours. We end up having lunch in a less flashy, but very convivial pub: The Admiral Rodney. Scampi and chips for Andy, lamb koftas with a yoghurt and mint dipping sauce for me. Very good they are too, homemade, cooked to order, accompanied by a nice fresh salad. Prestbury would be a lovely place to live, I think. When I get home, I Google it and discover I’m not the first person to have had that thought: it’s the most expensive village in the North West, and both Wayne Rooney and Peter Crouch live there, with their respective wives and families.
The Courthouse
After checking out of The Courthouse (leaving our luggage at reception), we realise we have all day to kill as our return train to London doesn’t leave until 5.15. First stop: the church opposite (v handy for weddings!). Imagine our surprise when we see that it too is carpeted in crocuses and snowdrops, mauve and white, with the odd flash of yellow. I don’t know if this is mere coincidence, or if the people behind Flat Cap Hotels have been wildly sowing seeds in churchyards, but it’s a truly lovely thing at this time of year. A trip to The Vicarage (the third hotel in the collection) might be in order to find out!
Andy has been looking at the map on his phone (it’s a man thing) and realises that there’s a park leading to a larger moor a short walk from the hotel, so we have a walk through it, emerging to find ourselves at the bottom of a very pretty high street full of old pubs, restaurants, boutiques, estate agents and a strange tower – tall and thin with a latticed window halfway up – dedicated to Elizabeth Gaskell. We don’t stop to find out what it’s all about, veering inexorably to The Tea Room, a charming and by the look of it extremely popular café serving delicious-looking homemade cakes, sandwiches, soups etc. Still full from breakfast, we stoically make do with a pot of tea between us. With still 5 hours until our train, we kill more time browsing in Waterstones, before bowing to the inevitable and stopping at the 350-year-old Rose & Crown (an attractively timbered coaching inn) for a couple of pints each.
It’s nearly time for our table for lunch, which we have booked at a cocktail bar and restaurant right opposite The Courthouse called the Lost and Found, which is housed in the old town hall – another magnificent building. Inside, the décor brings to mind the roaring twenties, with an art deco feel to the furnishings. We both go for taglioni with king prawns, samphire, lemon and chilli.
Finally, we board the train back to London, with happy tummies and happy memories of a truly exceptional break in the North West.
The Best Thing
The Bridge
The kitchen is really very good here – go for the filo-baked feta with honey, grapes and rosemary if you can.
The Courthouse
The magnificent grandeur of the building, and especially our room, Room 8 – which we subsequently discovered is the bridal suite. Thanks for that, Flat Cap Hotels! Also, the band on a Friday night deserves a special mention.
The Worst Thing
The Bridge
Andy took exception to the ambient dance music at all hours of the day: ‘perfect in an Ibiza beach bar at 5 in the afternoon, not for breakfast in the North West of England.’
The Courthouse
Having recently recovered from a hip replacement and a broken femur, I was slightly fazed coming down that long, long staircase, but I realise that this is a purely subjective objection – it really wouldn’t be a problem for the majority of people.
The Details
The Bridge
The Village, Prestbury, Cheshire, SK10 4DQ
Phone: 0330 137 3770
Email: hello@flatcaphotels.com
The Courthouse
Toft Road, Knutsford, Cheshire, WA16 0PB
Phone: 0330 137 3770
Email: hello@flatcaphotels.com
