The Hotel

Not to be dramatic, but I literally felt as though the hotel staff would die for me. Every tiny request I had was fulfilled – from the smallest to the most annoying. Walking in through the entrance, a member of staff would prise the door open for me whilst another greeted me from reception, getting up to swipe their card for the elevator so that I wouldn’t have to wait a single second for it to arrive. When I would leave the hotel, I would be offered an umbrella for the rain, and could grab an extra pillow chocolate or two from the cleaners (who were so nice). Reception had daily weather forecasts on the front desk, and would give me flawless advice about how to spend the day, and I felt so incredibly taken care of.

The hotel is located in the very heart of Vancouver, a perfect distance away from downtown attractions, restaurants, and malls. Whilst the city life is bustling, the rooms are completely blocked off from outside noise which is a relief. Local transport is accessible from almost directly outside the hotel, conveniently connecting you to other areas of the city. 

The Suite

The suite itself is gorgeous, with patched jade faux-leather walls, two flat screen televisions, and the plumpest pillows I have ever come across. Every evening, I would return to the hotel to find little chocolates on the bed cushions – which tasted exactly like a bar I ate once as a child, making me want to abandon my lactose-free diet to indulge in mounds upon mounds of the stuff.

The bathroom was, in essence, a wet room, with a large marble seat to lounge upon in the shower, a plethora of L’occitane gels and lotions (my favourite skincare brand), and extremely thick towels and dressing gowns. The mirror was massive and very Hollywood-esque, which made applying make-up feel like I was prepping for the Oscars. Oh, and the walls were textured with little folds and ribbons. 

The small living room was incredibly comfy and cosy – and made it exceedingly difficult to leave to explore the city. Styled like a 50’s living room, it brought me a large amount of joy to merely lounge across the sofa, watch daytime TV, and brew copious amounts of coffee and tea (I’m British, after all). The complimentary Fiji water made me feel exceedingly suave, and the luxe throw rendered my binge sofa-eating into something more glamorous. 

Have you guys ever stayed at a hotel like this, or even the St. Regis itself? Or have I inspired you to venture out to Vancouver to check out this little haven? Let me know in the comments below!

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The Hotel

Walking up to the hotel entrance with an old green rucksack slung over my shoulder, I felt throughly underdressed. Mirroring the exterior of an old manor house, it looked like the sort of place you’d catch Carrie Bradshaw sauntering around, swathed in Gucci and mink – and here I was in trainers. After checking in and denying the option for a porter at reception, I found myself led to the most gorgeous of open-plan rooms.

I’d landed the executive suite, and it was even larger than I’d imagined. The room followed a green and gold colour scheme, with high ceilings punctured with a crystal chandelier, and wide glass doors opening out to my balcony. With the light filtering in through the white voile curtains, my room was bright and airy. I immediately began to fill the massive wardrobe with an array of obnoxious outfits and popped open a bottle of sparkling water. It wasn’t hard to see why this place had such a high status.

The balcony was gorgeous, overlooking the gorgeous golf course surrounding the resort. Enveloped in my new matching robe and slippers, I ordered room service and sat outside snacking on sorbet – a stunning selection of raspberry, lemon, and apple cider, brought in on a silver platter.

It didn’t take long for me to understand the concept of a ‘staycation,’ where people book little holidays away in gorgeous hotels, spending the time relaxing and truly taking advantage of the services available. I spent a good hour lounged out on my massive and ridiculously comfy bed (which would easily have fit four people, with enough space for them to starfish), and chilled around the room for a while – taking it all in, reading, and drinking coffee.

The bathroom was pristine, with a massive bath and accessories from the White Company. It didn’t take long the massive bath was filled to the brim with scalding water and bubbles, where I submerged myself and lay uncontactable for hours. After, I slathered myself in the White Company’s moisturiser and dived into the millions of pillows of my bed, feeling truly cosy and cared for. With the help of my complimentary ‘sleep spray,’ I fell asleep easily.

The Food

As I made my way to the Vale Grill for AA Rosette dining, my heels clacked on the shiny reception floor. Walking into the restaurant surrounded by candles, flowers, and art, I was led to a table where my chair was pulled out for me and a napkin was placed over my lap. The chefs were visible at their assigned stations at the back of the restaurant, frying and sizzling and roasting. It didn’t take long for the place to fill up.

The food, as expected, was stunning. Having grown up in a household run by chefs, I pride myself in being able to spot good, high quality food – and the Vale Grill definitely lived up to standards. I sampled the salmon en croute with pea puree and watercress salad, with the pastry being perfect and the dish well-balanced. That was followed by pan seared chicken with crushed new potatoes, baby vegetables, and salsa verde, with a side of leek and spinach. The chicken was cooked flawlessly, although it could definitely have done with more sauce – especially as it came with a tower of potato, you don’t get a lot of moisture from the food itself. For dessert, I followed a recommendation from my waiter and went for homemade toffee cookie dough ice-cream and it was stunning – although, full from the rest of the meal, I sadly couldn’t even come close to finishing it.

In the same location you would also have your breakfast, which would come in the style of a buffet. With an abundance of fruits, cakes, and fry-up ingredients, you can fill yourself up for hours. Next door, you have the Vale Bar, where I whittled away several hours sat amongst the plush green and grey chairs, minding my own business as I wrote and sipped green tea. At some point the Welsh rugby team sauntered past my table, and I was reminded of the sort of company I was amongst.

Lunch was included as part of my spa day, so I headed to the Chai Cafe for food which again came in my favourite form of dining – a buffet. Helping myself to smoked salmon, falafel, tomato soup, meats, tarts, and an array of salads – from quinoa to Greek to classic veg – I ate a ridiculous amount. Due to the fact that it was all healthy, instead of feeling bloated I felt energised and ready for the afternoon ahead.

The Spa

I was taken on a tour around the spa (recorded to be Wales’ largest) prior to my treatment, and was shown around dozens of traditional and holistic treatment rooms and relaxation zones. They had a sauna, steam room, whirlpool bath, indoor pool, ‘slumber’ zone, ‘float’ zone (the best one), and a room where you could just sit back and rub a stone Buddha’s stomach for good luck. It didn’t take me long to realise that this was where I would be spending the majority of my down-time. After my tour, I was handed a branded drawstring bag – perfect should I had been better prepared and arrived with a book – and went into the dressing room to change into my robe and slippers. Surrounded by Hollywood-esque dressing tables, I felt excited at my upcoming treatment. Spoiler: it turned out to be amazing.

Having never had aromatherapy before, I didn’t have a clue as to what to expect when I went in for my treatment. As it happens, the basic idea is that you’re slathered in essential oils and then massaged for healing purposes. I’m not sure as to how much the massage actually healed my ailments – instead, I merely felt more relaxed than I ever had in my whole life. It felt surprisingly good to have my body go through a thorough kneading, and with the background music consisting of Chinese zen tunes and ocean waves, I very nearly fell asleep.

When it ended I felt so relaxed that I may as well have just melted into a puddle on the table, and my masseuse brought me a glass of water as after aromatherapy it is really important to stay hydrated as the body releases toxins. I was led to the ‘float’ zone where I spread out on a heated waterbed in a candle-lit room, closing my eyes and feeling engulfed in pure bliss. With a mini indoor waterfall making soft noises in the middle of the room, I felt as if I were in a suspended state like that moment just before you nod off. With snoring lightly coming from the other end of the dark room, I didn’t doubt that that was exactly the feeling we all shared.

My stay at the Vale Resort was one of which I feel blessed to have experienced. Leaving the hotel, I felt thoroughly disappointed to be walking away from a life where I had other people bring food to my room and pull out chairs for me, to a place where I have to wash my own dishes. The Vale was an absolute dream – and I already want to return.

And so, would you guys consider staying somewhere like the Vale Resort, where you can just spend days on end feeling utterly pampered? Let me know in the comments below!

Plas Dinas Country House is a gorgeous award-winning hotel perfectly located between the Irish Sea and Snowdonia’s mountain range. The setting is stunning, with an extensive 15 acres of land surrounding the house where you can sit in the garden and bask in the sun reading a novel, utterly enveloped by the Welsh countryside, as little rainbows bounce away from the fountain and onto the grass around you. 

This grandeur building dates back to the mid-1600’s and is Grade II listed, swathed in history and extensive Victorian additions. The hotel was a favourite of Princess Margaret (my second favourite royal!*), who would often spend weekends at this humble estate. As you walk through the door, you will be greeted by old family portraits, breathtaking oil paintings, and memorabilia from the time of Princess Margaret, and Lord Snowdon.

One of my favourite places in the whole house is the Drawing Room, as it is full of original furniture and Victorian relics. I feel as though this room embodies the true heart of the house, with its roaring fire, baby grand piano, and glistening chandeliers. You can sit back on one of their plush fabric sofas, listen to the relaxing lounge music, read one of their old books or luxury magazines, or perhaps play a game of chess or backgammon. Make your way over to the Honesty Bar or order a drink from their menu, and simply kick back and relax. 

With several of their 10 bedrooms spanning back an incredible 400 years, these little pockets of history are all individually designed, flaring their own personalities. I spent my evenings in the Princess Margaret Suite, arguably the best room in the house. With crisp linen, plump cushions, goose down pillows and duvets, and a stunning embroidered cover, I felt myself melt into the bed at night. I had never stayed in a four poster bed prior to this, and let me tell you, it is a truly divine feeling.

We were welcomed by mini bell jars filled with homemade fudge and biscuits, and a wonderful service en chambre box full of a wide selection of teas (with their loose leaf tea being to die for!), coffees, and thick hot coco. The room housed a little ‘in case you forgot’ kit full of necessities that hotel-goers often leave at home, and the bathroom featured a small toothpaste and Molton Brown toothbrush (who knew that they even did designer toothbrushes?) and the most divine moisturiser I have ever tried. Honestly, had I forgotten to pack my entire wash bag, I would have still come out of it sparkling clean.

We would wander about our suite in our fluffy bathrobes and slippers, draped across the chaise lounge as we flicked through luxury magazines and antiquated books half the size of my body. There was a gorgeous stag head decanter on the centre table topped with sherry, beside two beautiful crystal glasses which we used to toast our arrival. One of my favourite parts of the room was the writing bureau, as it had original letters regarding Princess Margaret framed on the desk and made me feel as though I were an old Jane Austen character. 

The room had an en-suite with mist-free heated mirrors, and windows overlooking the grounds and nearby ocean. The bath was large enough to fit two people, with a flat-screen television, luxe bath milk, and a tiara to recreate Princess Margaret’s iconic bath photo beside it. I spend approximately two hours in that bath, reading magazines and watching shows, gradually growing more and more wrinkled, and a further 20 minutes trying to wash the soap from my hair in their large and powerful shower. It was a very relaxing time.

For breakfast, expect to be swathed in glorious morning sun, sat surrounded by museum-worthy paintings and a wide selection of food options. I loved waking up to freshly baked croissants and pain au chocolat which were soft and warm in the middle and had a divinely flaky outside. We would then snack on their seasonal berries and fresh fruit, homemade fig and almond granola, and yoghurts and breads whilst we awaited our menu-chosen breakfasts to come from the kitchen. 

I ordered a Welsh breakfast with grilled thick-cut bacon and local butchers’ award-winning pork and leek sausages, and my travel partner ordered smoked salmon with crushed avocado. As we had come to expect, both were delicious. To go with the meal, I tried a pot of white tea – which I usually have reservations about but was surprisingly flavoursome and featured complex sweet notes. My travel partner ordered a pot of freshly brewed coffee which she informed me, ’embodies everything a real coffee should.’ 

The back of the breakfast menu had translations for popular Welsh food words, such as pwdin du (black pudding) and paned o de (cup of tea), which I thought was a nice little nudge to the Welsh heritage which the house is swathed in. The breakfast room featured two large windows which overlooked the gorgeous gardens, which were full of just-sprouting spring buds, and was a beautiful sight to start the day.

Dinner at the country house was particularly splendid, with a very small and thoroughly perfected menu. Evening meals are served in the Gun Room, which features a stunning stone inglenook fireplace which the original house was built around. It feels very intimate, as you’re sat relatively close to your dinner companion and the room is lit by candle. 

We had little tasters between courses to refresh the senses, with my personal favourites being the gin and elderflower sorbet and the pea and almond soup with treacle bread. It was a delightful way to work up to the main courses, and we spent the extra time talking about the dishes, taking in the details of the room around us, and listening to the soft jazz music which played in the background. The food staff would wear gloves as they brought out each dish, a nod to the high class dining we were experiencing. 

The cuisine in the Gun Room is the sort that forces you to eat slowly, really paying attention to each sensation and bite. Some of my food highlights include their pork cheek with spiced plum, cod with crispy squid and chorizo, and the incredible cuts of lamb with flavoursome veg and creamy potato. The slower speed at which I ate everything made the whole experience more intense and flavoursome, and the dishes kept me full for the rest of the day. 

As I am currently lactose-free, I did worry that my diet would restrict me from trying some of their dishes, but they were prepared and more than happy to work around it, sourcing equally as delicious alternatives to some of the ingredients. For example, dessert entailed gorgeous fresh berries with pink meringue and sweet lactose-free ice-cream – mouthwateringly divine, and the cherry on top to a truly tasteful evening.

My stay at Plas Dinas was made all the better by the hosts, Daniel and Annie. Whilst I was unfortunately unable to meet Annie in person, she was helpful and friendly in the booking process, and then Daniel was very charismatic and eager to show me his personal favourite parts of the house. We were well cared for throughout the course of our stay, with the several staff members we met being very lovely and hospitable. Together, the team made sure that we were well looked after, and were always ready to offer any additional services that we may have needed. 

This trip feels like a world away from the stresses surrounding us from Covid-19, and I cannot wait to go back when this is all over. The house embodies everything a country house should – luxury, an abundance of gorgeous food, and lovely hosts. 

*For reference, my ultimate favourite Royal is Queen Victoria, due to her relations with India and her death-defying love for her husband. She was a controversial ruler in many respects, but I feel as though her genuine love and respect for others cannot be doubted.

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THE HISTORY

Prior to my arrival, I had been enticed by the history of the hotel – the fact that it’s the city’s oldest continuously operating hotel after opening in 1927. Marie Dempcy – who now co-owns the hotel – became Seattle’s first female hotel general manager, and helped turn Mayflower Park into the gem that it is today. The long history of the hotel is certainly evident in the beautiful open-plan lobby with old-world furnishings, tasteful vintage decor, and glistening crystal chandeliers – and I fell in love immediately.

THE AMENITIES (NAMELY – COFFEE)

As I walked into my suite, I was greeted with a gorgeous parlour where a staple glass table sat in the middle, a plethora of local magazines laid across it. Having come to Seattle with zero plans, I wanted nothing more than to just fall back onto the sofa and scour their pages for inspiration. However, first thing’s first – coffee.*

There was a small selection of Starbucks coffee on a wooden stand – unsurprising, considering Seattle is the home of the famed coffeehouse chain. I freshly brewed some Caffeè Verona, and it was so rich and cocoa-y that for the first time in my LIFE I didn’t add sugar as I didn’t want to risk ruining the flavour. As there were little branded takeaway cups in my room, I was also able to take out a fresh brew each morning when I inevitably had to do a last minute-dash outside because I’d lost track of time (although that’s possibly not the intended use).

THE SUITE

The suite itself was extremely charismatic and charming, with a little desk area where I was able to write some letters home (using the letter writing set I found whilst nosying around the drawers). With statement curtains that matched the scalloped trim of the beds, and a three piece-suite of stylishly mismatched furniture. The earth-tone armchairs were perfect to melt into at the end of a long day exploring, feeling cozy and cared for and content as I gazed out of my two large windows. Around me, there were copious paintings and prints lining the walls, rendering it to feel like my own personal art gallery. How rare is it that it feels just as good to stay in the hotel as it does to explore the city?

I would fall asleep easy each night, swathed in soft white bedsheets in a bed large enough to accommodate my starfish poses, with the city lights twinkling at me from my open window. Arising in the morning to the pink-hazed morning sun falling on my face, I’d open my eyes to the bustle of city life below weaving around the classic American architecture. I’d find myself getting up each morning approximately four hours earlier than usual – fuelled by an insatiable craving to explore both the city and the chambers of the hotel (and honestly the coffee probably helped). Using the abundance of magazines and travel guides to plan my day ahead, I’d kick back on the sofa with my morning paper (delivered daily), legs up on the gold-tinted steampunk barrel, fortunate to be in this little hotel in Seattle.

I felt as though I were in a juxtaposed time warp – the modern convenience of a flat-screen TV and fast Wi-Fi contrasted the antique steel lamps and distressed frames around the large ballet studio -esque mirrors (which made me hyper-aware of every angle of my outfits).

The bathrooms were both finished with golden and cream striped paper, with a bath perfect for getting lost in and a shower framed with a marble and silver arch. On a normal day, in a normal fairytale-less place, I already find leaving showers one of the hardest things to do. But the showers in the suite, which felt both powerful and soft at the same time (my travel partner didn’t understand that either until he had tried them out himself), I could have spent hours in there. Especially when the bathrooms featured shampoos, conditioners, lotions, and embossed soaps by Antica Farmastica, it was a dangerous temptation to stay in there until my skin was as wrinkled as a prune. By the time I dragged myself out of the shower on the first night, swathed in an opulent fluffy robe, with soft and shiny hair, slathered in Grapefruit-scented lotion, I felt like I was at the height of luxe. Not to be dramatic, but I want to live like this forever.

THE FOOD

In the evenings, I would order room service from Andaluca, their Mediterranean Restaurant. Whilst the restaurant was only a few feet away from the lobby, I could never find myself wanting to leave the comfort of my room after a long, hard day exploring (I blame the 6am starts). Their desserts were absolutely stunning – especially the rich chocolate brownies paired with strawberries. For those of you who like more than just desserts, the famed Oliver’s Lounge is also accessible directly from the lobby – the classy downtown bar which has won numerous awards for their martinis. Perfect.

LEAVING THE HEART OF SEATTLE

When I eventually departed the Mayflower Park Hotel, with the two doormen pulling back the glass doors for me and flashing me their usual big smiles, I felt remarkably sad to be leaving. I, like every other person out there, loves to be spoilt – and man, did the Mayflower Park indulge me.

Starting with the base rate of £92 per night, the Mayflower Park Hotel makes it affordable to (briefly) live in luxury. With gorgeous views, equally as gorgeous coffee, and service to die for, I now refuse to stay anywhere else in Seattle. The hotel is located in the very heart of Seattle, being a five-minute walk from the waterfront and Pike Place, a 40-minute train ride straight to the airport, a three-minute walk from Tiffany and Co. (an essential!). The hotel also connects to Westlake Centre, which offers both a four-storey shopping mall and direct access to the monorail (where it’s only a ten-minute trip to tourist attractions such as the Space Needle.

*I officially feel as though the Mayflower Park Hotel has turned me into a fiend for coffee. Thoughts about when I can possibly get my next Caffeè Verona fill plagues me dearly.

And so, would you guys ever consider staying somewhere like the Mayflower Park Hotel, where you’re endlessly spoilt with views, service, and Starbucks? Let me know in the comments below!

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Several months ago, I found myself living in Bogotá, Colombia. Whilst the city will forever have my heart for various reasons (namely due to a gorgeous little morrita), the city took a lot out of me.

Nights were spent drinking cachaša in grey parks and inhaling thick clumps of air pollution, and days were spent with me wondering why exactly I couldn’t find the motivation to write or meditate. I had to leave, to re-align myself.

And that’s where Punanti comes in.

I decided to cross the border into Ecuador. A new country brought new opportunities and new places to fall in love with, along with the chance to reconnect with myself, with nature, and with the healthier side of travelling.

On the recommendation of a Couchsurfing host, I booked myself into Punanti. I’d heard great things about the hostel: not only was it located in a quiet space next to Mount Cayambe where the inhabitants of the nearest village primarily spoke Kichwa, but it offered a healthy place to detox and heal. Foreigners and locals alike travelled to the hostel to spend time in nature and with themselves, and it couldn’t have been more ideal.

I paid a local driver to take me up the rocky road to the hostel, where I was greeted by a beautiful white mountain dog and a relatively tiny husky puppy. Walking over the wooden terrace boards and heading into the heart of the hostel – the kitchen – I finally met the owner.

Antoine had come over from Switzerland many years ago and fallen in love with life in the Ecuadorean mountains. Eventually, he made the permanent move to Cayambe, starting the very hostel that I was now standing in. It seemed as though we had both made the right choice to come here.

We sat down together as he handed me a steaming bowl of healthy, hearty soup, and I helped myself to the free unlimited tea on the counter. Chatting with a full stomach and my cup of lemon verbena, surrounded by the most beautiful mountains I’d ever seen, I felt whole.

Over the next few days, I would start to feel even more at home in the hostel. Several guests came and went, but the volunteers remained. Each morning and evening we would eat together – oftentimes also sharing lunch – and it almost felt as though we had become family.

The food was on another level: Antoine was a trained chef who had spent 10 years in Michelin star restaurants and a 5* hostel, and he would take it in turns between a hired cook to create the most incredible meals.

There was always fresh bread, oftentimes fresh juice and cakes between meals, and the food could be adapted to any restrictions. I went in unable to consume lactose, tomato, nor onion, and yet they were always able to work around it and still create healthy and nourishing meals. I never went hungry.

I would spend my days with a flask of tea hiking through the mountains, wrapped up in one of the hostel’s ruanas. In the evenings I would head to the wooden attic of the hostel and meditate before sitting beside the fire and playing board games with the other residents.

Sometimes I would take a cup of oolong and chill with the llamas and chickens outside; other times I would visit the town, attending indigenous council meetings, or attempting to go rock climbing. Then, I would swathe myself up in the warm, comfy bed, feeling thoroughly taken care of.

Over the course of my stay, I shook free the remnants of Bogotá. Punanti gave me the opportunity to heal; the opportunity to come back to myself after so much time lost in the city.

The day before I left, I ate an incredible meal with my new mountain family, finished one of the hostel books I’d been reading, and sat opposite the view of Mount Cayambe with a warm cup of green tea in my hand. I caught my reflection in the window and I smiled. I had returned to myself.

For the past four months I have been living in Victoria, Canada. I have been based on the East of the island, where I quickly found myself consumed by a relative amount of stress on a daily basis. Why had no one told me how expensive this country is? Why had I chosen to live in accommodation which looked like a futile mix of a hostel, jail cell, and army barracks? And most importantly – why had I decided to take an intense language course which featured a regional dialect I had never studied before, that would be deeply important to my overall degree grade back home?

I had been trying to use my spare time to sort out my plans for the future, re-organise my business, and of course, send approximately a million essays to university a week. At the end of each day, I would have my blogging responsibilities gnaw at me, but would be too exhausted to sit down, make a tea, and focus on writing a new post. This, mixed with the overall stresses of temporarily moving to another country, meant that I was getting about 0% of the work done which was necessary to balance a degree and a career.

To combat this, I bought last-minute flights to Hawaii (don’t tell my parents!), and went on road trips to Tofino and Portland and Vancouver. I tried to gain inspiration by writing at friends’ houses, or boutique cafes, or even on top of a bloody mountain. NOTHING. WORKED.

That’s when I read a magazine article about Staycations, and thought you know what? Screw it.

That’s where Chateau Victoria comes in. I was walking downtown one day, minding my own business, when I stumbled upon the luxury hotel. A warm orange glow was spilling out from the glass doors onto the street, and a member of staff pulled back said doors to let in a guest, a beaming smile on his face. I was drawn to it immediately, and knew that if I was going to be staying anywhere in the city, I wanted it to be there. The very next day, I finalised a reservation.

This gorgeous hotel is situated in downtown Victoria, amongst the finest restaurants, shops, and establishments in the city. Walking into the lobby, having the glass doors pulled back for me just like they had been for that other guest, I was welcomed into my temporary haven. It was designed exactly like I imagined Donald Trump’s sitting room to be – gold furnishings, marble desks, staff members raring to make everything perfect.

My apartment featured an open plan dining area, with an abstract carpet print mimicking that of a cosy 50’s house style. There is a little kitchen space where I was able to brew fresh coffee every morning, and a kitchen table where I could drink said coffee whilst typing furiously at my Mac. My sole qualm? The kitchen is within eyesight of an exceedingly comfortable sofa suite – the idea of reverting to a couch potato and abandoning all work was definitely tempting.

The living room features this two-piece suite, a third table (there really is an abundance of places to work from), and a large television showcasing all the North American television shows I’ve read about. My favourite part of the living room is that it opens out onto a balcony, where you can sit back and watch the world go by. At night, I would seek out the twinkling lights of Parliament and tiny people going about their daily business, and during the day, I would glance out at mountains and oceans and miles upon miles of places to explore. In the very early hours of the morning, when the sun is at its brightest, I would meander out onto the balcony, green tea in one hand, book in the other, and just let my mind go blank. I’m not sure how or why, but that quickly leads into some of my most inspired writing – and has singlehandedly cured my writer’s block. When your only plans for the evening are to order room service and kick back on the settee, life feels pretty easy.

There are various frames of artwork hanging around the suite, with my favourite blue-and-green rendition featured in the bedroom. A massive king-sized bed sits in the middle of the quarters, where I spend a bit too much time swathing myself in blankets and overtly plump pillows. With tall curtains facing out to towering skyscrapers, I would find myself waking up to the view of a million other people, racing around to partake in the rat race of life. Somehow, seeing other people rush around whilst I am calm and (temporarily) free of responsibility, is oddly inspiring – is there a way to replicate this outside of a Staycation?

Having written some of my best articles milling around the hotel, I was left with an empty feeling when I knew I would have to check out. I took one last bath, submerging myself in bubbles and later slathering on some of the nicest smelling lotion I have ever tried, feeling more relaxed than I had in months.

I realise now that the idea of Staycations isn’t a futile one – instead, staying at this Chateau has completely rejuvenated me, and utterly fixed my writer’s block. I spent my days there wandering down to the sauna – perhaps after taking a swim in the pool – and writing pages upon pages of blog posts and articles. Sometimes, you just feel like getting pampered and dining on food which you haven’t had to slave over, eventually re-entering into civilisation stress-free. According to Christoffer Arfert of Select Saunas, incorporating a sauna into your staycation routine not only enhances relaxation but also supports better circulation and overall wellness, making the experience feel even more restorative.

This post 100% feels like an ad for the Staycation business – but alas, it’s just your favourite blogger talking about how she’s been one heck of an idiot for the past few years. Even Carrie in Sex in the City would go on a Staycation to her home in Manhattan to write an article when she didn’t have the creative space at home. Now who am I to contradict Carrie?

Have you guys ever taken a Staycation – or are you a naysayer like I was? What’s more, have I tempted you into staying at the Chateau Victoria? Let me know in the comments below!

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Situated in the stunning little town of Beddgelert, a place swathed in history and folklore, it posed as the perfect opportunity to get re-acquainted with my favourite country. After a long, winding drive from the South, sweeping up country roads and down mountain inclines, I finally arrived at the cottages. The host, instructor, and yogi – Rebecca – greeted me, leading me to the dining room to meet the others. The next hour consisted of us all getting to know each other, sitting in armchairs by the fire with mugs of our favourite drinks to warm us back up. Pretty quickly, I found myself surrounded by some of the coolest people I’ve ever met. “And so,” said Rebecca, as everyone finished settling in. “Let the weekend begin!”

THE FOOD

Honestly, the food was undoubtedly one of the best bits about the whole retreat. Being a massive foodie myself, knowing that I would be staying somewhere that offered an array of filling, hearty, homemade vegan meals, I was slightly ecstatic to tuck in.

Everything was inherently healthy – detoxifying us and rendering us ready for the day (or night) ahead. Plates filled with cuisine from all over the world, made from scratch right there in the kitchen. Chocolate cakes and apple crumbles were baked fresh for dessert – always with the option of seconds. Lunch consisted of a surprisingly gourmet “packed lunch,” with ingredients I had prior never thought would be delicious together. Not to be dramatic, but even the food itself was an experience.

Meal times at Morris Mountains are set out to be social – the whole group sits at their place at the dining table (unless it’s lunch, where you all gather around a waterfall), spending the following few hours just talking, sharing stories and anecdotes and secrets. For my time at the retreat, the ladies acted as a sort of psuedo-family – they were all excitedly supportive when I told them about this here blog, but all discouraging and fierce when I suggested the mere idea of war journalism.

We had more of an opportunity to learn more about one another whilst sat around this table than we could as we trudged up the mountains (possibly because we’d spend the latter trying to catch our breaths without looking like we were doing so). Everyone sat around me turned out to all be deeply interesting people – from the woman with the deadpan humour and endless stories of India, to the Bolton living embodiment of a pocket rocket who always had a funny quip at the ready, to the two friends that spent the whole retreat absolutely roasting each other, to the woman with the nose ring whose eyes glinted with mischievous intent. As we sat there for hours, eating good food and sipping lemon water and tea, we chatted like we’d known each other for years.

THE YOGA

The once- and twice-daily yoga sessions occurred in the local town hall, in the sort of place you could easily mistake for a Scout hut. With obscure – yet oddly relaxing – music playing in the background, we would start each day and end each evening with an hour of yoga. I’m one of the least flexible people in existence, so the prospect of having to shift my body into strange positions for an extended period of time was slightly daunting – however, Rebecca seemed to know what we all needed and when, modifying the routine as necessary.

Over the course of the weekend the poses became easier (although they weren’t particularly difficult in the first place – merely positions that were entirely foreign to my body), and after each session you definitely felt as if you’d achieved something. With a heavy focus on breathing and just simple mindfulness, the classes also aided as a subtle form of meditation. At the end of each class, I would feel  the tension slowly work its way out from the scoliosis in my back, and the effects would last for hours.

THE HIKING

As a group, you get to decide the level of strenuosity you want to undergo on the trips out. The days would start with a 9.30am hike (after yoga and breakfast), clambering up rock faces and trekking across hills. The views were unprecedentedly beautiful, with the mountainous backdrops and dramatic scenery aplenty. There were abandoned stone houses and old bridges made of large slabs of flint, with sheep dotting the land. It was exhausting and it was wet, but it was absolutely stunning.

These trips out into the wild side of North Wales were made up of the contrast between gasping for breath, and telling my hopes and dreams to anyone that was interested (which honestly was everyone – not a single person spent more than two minutes on their own in contented silence).  We’d break the hikes up with trips to cafes for cakes, or just to stop and admire everything around us. When we’d reach the top of a particularly challenging precipice, we’d all just slow down and stare out, feeling blessed and happy and – despite the winds – warm.

THE ACCOMMODATION

Imagine finding yourself tucked away in the heart of Wales, in a cosy little cottage that has been passed down from generation to generation – with each new owner adding a quaint detail here, a small feature there. You’re surrounded by tearooms and ice-cream parlours, and the vast, unchanged beauty of Wales. The antiquated atmosphere tempts you into relaxing back in a plush leather armchair with a glass of wine, fat wax candles flickering away on the dining table. Your new psuedo-family surrounds you, as Rebecca’s mother, Hillary, cooks up food in the open-plan kitchen. Dinner is served at the large oak table – which, of course, overlooks nearly eight acres of tamed woodland.

With fluffy rugs and wooden everything contrasting the flat screen television, you’ll feel as if you’re in both a medieval lounge and a contemporary home at the same time. Honestly, with us all in our assigned rooms in the evening, bumping into each other when we snuck out for tea or a late night read on the sofa, it felt like I was in some kind of sorority house.

The bathrooms come as either en-suite or shared, with the largest offering a ginormous bathtub styled from a 60’s interior decoration magazine, with plush stairs leading up to the basin. It was quirky, it was kitsch, and the floorboards creaked. I loved it.

THE TREATMENTS

Hillary is a woman with many talents, trained in the likes of reflexology and Indian head massage, amongst others. She offered treatments during the stay, and I was more than just merely excited to try one. I’d heard about the benefits of reflexology in regards to people like me (i.e. people with Crohn’s), and here was someone who could both knead out the weariness of seven-hour-long hikes and offer a temporary fix to my ailments.

The whole thing was super relaxing and I felt incredible afterwards – and not just because of the free life advice I was handed at the same time. Having an absolute stranger believe in you wholeheartedly and offer suggestions for your ideas is one of the most pure, and inspiring, things that a person could witness. Definitely an unexpected feature, but wildly appreciated nonetheless.

Considering the fact that the whole business has only been up and running for two years, it’s quite remarkable what Rebecca has been able to achieve with it all. She’s expertly trained in all things mountain and yoga, and literally built the whole business from scratch through sheer willpower alone. Despite innumerable setbacks with it all, she’s managed to plan and create this whole retreat. Amazing.

This weekend was awesome, and I’m so glad I was given the opportunity to experience it. I would 100% go back, and met the loveliest people whilst clambering across the North Wales countryside. I am deeply thankful to the team at Morris Mountains for offering me a chance to witness all that they get up to, and am excited at the prospect of eventually visiting again in time.

Have you guys ever been on a retreat such as this, or want to try Morris Mountains out for yourselves? Let me know in the comments below!

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THE ACCOMMODATION

After reading out the wrong directions so that we accidentally ended up driving the whole course of the resort and glimpsing other lodges, chalets, and little houses that hyped me for the week to come, we found it. Our gorgeous wooden chalet greeted us, featuring an open plan kitchen, living room and dining room, all adorned with high Tudor oak ceilings. We had enough bedrooms to accommodate a whole family – but considering there were just the two of us, the wide open space was perfect.

After unpacking, we believed it too late to try and cram in some activities, so we decided to spend some time relaxing. We sat back on the veranda in the dwindling sunset, chatting excitedly about potential plans as we sipped our fruit teas from the kitchen. We ended up spending several evenings like this, at the little table of our lodge between the trees.

Throughout our stay, returning back to the lodge almost became like a return to the safehaven, away from the havoc and constant flow of activities outside. In the evening, we would return from dinner and just lounge back in the living room, comfy and warm and exhausted. We also had a wetroom, which was perfect for when we would come back from a swim and wanted to indulge in our luxe mini-spa.

The kitchen was fully equipped, which meant that we could cook up some eggs in the morning or throw a salmon in the oven if we couldn’t summon the energy to go out for a meal at night. It was like a little kitsch temporary home, and it was pretty divine. Honestly, I felt just like a proper chalet girl.

THE SURROUNDINGS

As you walk out of the lodge, you’re immediately confronted by the wildness of Wales – overlooking a lake, or a forest, or distant mountains. With local excursions such as many famed beaches, wildlife, and historical places like cathedrals and castles, there’s a lot to do both on the park grounds and beyond.

Within Bluestone, there’s a really cute provincial “village,” which houses cafes and souvenir shops. You can stop for a hot coco by the park, or just wander around the pastel-coloured houses. It’s got an old English vibe to it, which completely contrasts the strong Welsh patriotism evident in the dishes, the first-language of staff, and characters in the shows which the resort puts on.

My favourite parts about the surroundings of Bluestone were the trails – the endless routes of forestry of which you could explore. Wandering amongst the wildlife, there are two main walking routes that you could take – both of which leading to wild rabbits and remote streams and just limitless greenery. It’s such a gorgeous national park, I’m lucky to have remotely been based right in the middle of it.

There are plenty of little restaurants and food places at Bluestone which you can dine at, each with their own quirks. The best by far is Smokey’s, a little old lumberjack shack hidden behind a heavy canopy of trees. They offer plenty of vegetarian options (perfect for my restrictive Crohn’s diet), and they serve the most insanely gorgeous home-made lemonade. They also have an open woodland fire protected by a grill where you can roast marshmallows – a highlight for sure.

THE ACTIVITIES

The most appealing aspect of Bluestone is the fact that you’re able to choose exactly what sort of holiday you want. Fancy a relaxing retreat? Spend your time getting a manicure, basking in the sauna, sitting back in the hydrotherapy room, or visiting the sea salt cave or candle lit sanctuary. Or do you want an action-packed week filled with endless activities? If so, there’s a massive bundle of options to choose from – from zip wiring to axe throwing, rock climbing to kayaking.

Another one of the best parts of my time at Bluestone included a full day lounging about Blue Lagoon – the Bluestone water park. The outdoor slides were the most incredible, due to the fact that they attach to intermediate pools with heavy currents that throw you about until you land in a warm tub of water, high up in the trees with the backdrop of forest life.

I feel like at Bluestone you’re able to discover the type of traveller you are and what sort of holidays work for you. Are you an explorer, always craving hidden woodlands and adrenaline-filled adventures? Or are you a more of a sit back and read a book by an open fire sort of person? I for one found out that my dream itinerary is that of a six-year-old, swinging from trees and spoiling my appetite by snacking on smores all day.

I had a wonderful time at Bluestone, and am honoured that I was given the opportunity to be a #BluestoneBlogger and spend such a perfect week in the best part of the UK. I only live an hour from the resort, but found that other guests had travelled from the other side of the world just for a cosy little retreat in the heart of Wales. I have to say that I completely understand why – I’ve never fallen in love with a home-away-from-home this deeply.

Have any of you guys ever visited the area, or even stayed at Bluestone itself? Let me know in the comments below!

BUT BEFORE YOU DO – WHY NOT SHARE THE LOVE AND PIN THIS POST?

Having just returned from a gorgeous hostel stay, I’ll be the first to admit that my mindset in regards to travel accommodation used to be that they’re just places to rest, and can be as low-quality as they like. After all, I have stayed in rotting rooms in Dublin, pest-swarmed hotels just out of Istanbul, and windowless holes in Warsaw – and couldn’t have cared less. Or at least, that was until I decided to lay down in a luxury hotel, having been swept in with the promise of spa treatments and a panoramic view of the capital.

Trailing a room with windows thrice as long as the super-king-sized bed, with my own dining area and large nude-coloured washroom with a deep-set tub and glass shower, I had stepped into a world unimaginably different to what I was used to. Laying back in my armchair with the option of pastries and desserts brought to the door, I felt like I could happily spend my days exploring the chambers of the hotel – if only I could summon the intent to leave the room.

The rules of day-to-day life seem to disappear upon entrance to the hotel – think mid-morning cocktails in the luxury lounge and casual dips to the Hammam. Arise greeted by charming staff serving breakfast sourced from local farmers, located less than five minutes away from the main shopping district. Easy city links surpass the hotel, with the calm pace of Welsh life awaiting the front door step.

Everyone knows that I’m inexplicably in love with Wales, and so it’s no question that the capital is one of my favourite places to venture to. The bustle of city life intertwines with the laid-back nature of the country, and comes together in a mix of welcoming locals, endless places to explore, and Welsh cakes. The hotel is located within easy travel distance to Cardiff Castle, the Wales Millennium Centre, and Cardiff Bay – and for any Gavin and Stacey lovers out there, a trip to Barry Island is not off the table.

The hotel restaurant is an expert in “bistronomy” – French fine dining with an unpretentious twist. The casual atmosphere and waiters with a genuine interest in their guests renders a dining experience that is worth more than just food – and with luxe decor and design, every aspect of taste is catered to.

I would arise each morning swathed in pristine bedsheets with the sun falling on me through the silky blinds, opening my eyes to the Victorian architecture and early-risers bustling outside. How would I begin each day – a trip to the spa, a dip in the pool, a French breakfast brought to the dining area of my room?

Starting with the base rate of £97 per night, the Mercure Holland House Hotel and Spa makes a luxe stay affordable. The spacious rooms, Jacuzzis, and opulent room service are features I have missed out on during so many trips away, but my opinion has now definitely been altered.

Now, over to you guys – what’s your mindset on hotels? Do you think you could ever be swayed? Let me know in the comments below!

To find out more about some of the best ways to spend a weekend in Cardiff, check out my friend Amber’s post on her recent trip to the city!

HOSTELLE: A HOSTEL FOR BEGINNERS

I’m not going to lie to you, when I book accommodation away I always un-tick the little box labeled “hostel”. I’ve always thought, why would I want to share a room with 20 complete strangers in a dusty room where my possessions go walkabout in the night, and I’m woken by rustling sheets and moans from the neighbouring bed? However, finding myself having booked a last-minute trip to Amsterdam to realise that there were no lovely cushy hotels to bed down in, I was met with the strained reality that I was going to finally face a hostel. Honestly, I miss it already.

“If you want to get up at 3am to cook scrambled eggs in the [extremely well equipped, well designed] kitchen, then go ahead – just don’t use all the spices.” I’m sure I just stared back at the guy behind the reception desk, a look of utter confusion on my face. Crossing over into this shiny new world of hostels where you’re enveloped into a homely little community, being offered leftover food from someone’s cook or getting asked to flick the kettle on, you’re constantly reminded that this isn’t hotel territory anymore, homeboy. Holland in Winter is bordering on unbearably cold, but the atmosphere is very much warm.

A COMMUNITY WITHIN A COMMUNITY

It’s an entirely new attitude to which confronts you in most city life, let me tell you. Faced with free pasta, care products, a book and clothes exchange, and hospitality matched by no other, it’s hard not to fall in love with life at Hostelle. The people are all lovely, and the surprise of which random thick accent will greet you at the door is a delightful little novelty.

FALLING IN LOVE WITH THE CONCEPT OF HOSTELS

Despite being skeptical before, this female-only hostel was probably the best introduction I could have had to hostel life. We spent our evenings curled upon the blanket-laden sofa, drinking free green tea and reading and painting to the hum of Spanish music and distant voices uttering languages we couldn’t name, or chatting to each other in lamplight, ushering forward tales of old towns and new places to jot down on bucket lists. Located in a safe neighbourhood only a train ride from the heart of the hustle and bustle of the city, even the area couldn’t have been more perfect. A morning commute filled with Cinnabon stores and markets – what more could you want?

The perfect place to sit back and chill after a busy day in the city centre, Hostelle, it’s been aangenaam. 

Have you guys ever stayed in a hostel that made you fall back in love with the travel community? Let me know in the comments below!