Country break at The Stag & Huntsman with Hillbrooke Hotels

All things considered, this weekend really was the perfect sort of weekend for a mini-break. After a hot-and-bothered sort of week in London, R and I escaped off the M40 to blue skies and beating sun, only without the sweaty tube journeys and over-heated offices. Instead, as we turned off a little winding lane to take us to the teeny, tiny village of Hambleden, our home for the night, we were greeted with the stillness of a summer night and a sweetness in the air that only comes when you leave the stinky city.

We were in Hambleden courtesy of Hillbrooke Hotels which had kindly invited us to stay as the first guests at its newest hotel, The Stag and Huntsman which officially opens for business today. To call it a hotel is a little misleading though - I'd call it a traditional pub-inn-meets-country-house instead. Jolly good place, chaps! I'll say!

The Stag and Huntsman (above) is full of beams and fireplaces, maze-like corridors with wondrous bedrooms hidden off at different turns. The whole place has been entirely renovated and redecorated - the look is very vintage, very shabby chic and slightly eccentric old-English-gentleman (I'm not entirely sure, but I can bet you every single wall is a shade of Farrow & Ball). You can tell that a lot of thought (and money) has gone into this, from the William Morris wallpaper in the dining room to the vintage silver candleholders and the wildflowers scattered here and there.

Oh, but it's lovely. Our room was immense, painted in shades of mossy-grey green with a bathroom almost as big as the bedroom itself and a pedestal bath to swoon in. 

What I liked most was the finishing touches that made it feel like you were staying in a particularly stylish, land-owning relative's house and not a hotel. Although every room worked on the same premise, filled with antique furniture of the shabby-chic rather than stuffy kind, feature walls and muted colours plus a retro Roberts radio and a *proper* big kettle for mugs of tea in bed, no two rooms were the same. This is homely luxury where it's not ostentation that counts, but comfort. With doubles starting at around £110, it isn't too overpriced for a quick city-getaway either - for the size of the rooms, the luxury and the food, I'd say it's worth it even if you can only stretch to stay one night.

Starving by the time we arrived, the kitchen quickly served up bowls of pink risotto (made with beetroot and goat's cheese) followed by a plate of mini meringues and chocolate cups - even though they technically didn't have to because they aren't *officially* open yet; in the morning, a huge platter of pastries and croissants appeared as we sat out in the garden, followed by eggs, toast, mushrooms and more toast.

After ambling through the village, pottering on to Henley-upon-Thames and falling in love with Enid Blyton's cottage (a must see: we whiled away most of the afternoon here, quietly reading and eating homemade coffee cake), we left full, happy and rested. And that is what I call a good end result.

You never forget how to ride a bike

*

I've not been on a bicycle for years. I once got a bike for my eighth birthday; it was perfect, lemon-yellow with a basket. I rode it for years but then, well, growing-up-awkwardness happened and the bike got dumped in the garage alongside discarded boxes full of other girl-childhood stuff.

Now, I'm 20 years older and haven't been on a bike since.

Except, then, last year I happened to marry a cyclist whose idea of fun is cycling over 150 miles in one day. (I know, right?). I used to despair at the messy muddy bikes left in the spare room, but when we would leave the house together for work sometimes, I occasionally slightly envied R's whooshing away on his cycle while I plodded along, walking three miles to work at the radio studios off Oxford Street in ballet flats that give me blisters.

So, for this year's birthday, he bought me a bike. Yep, a bike. My mother thinks I've gone slightly bonkers. But let's be clear. I'm hardly turning into a pro-cyclist. In the interest of cycle safety, I'm staying well off main, busy roads with traffic. Forever. And I'm not cycling alone.

But I am warming to the idea of a cute ride. We plan to make the most of summer days in London - to cycle over to Regent's Park via the canal (as we've already done the last few days), or head over to the Southbank, or pack a picnic, load the car up with the bikes in the back and day-trip, riding around when we get to wherever we're going (first up: Hambleden village, by the Chiltern Hills this weekend). Beats being inside. La dee da. Very idyllic.

But R knew that if he was going to get me on a bike, it had to look right. And by right, I mean a nice touch of vintage and bags of character without being too girly-girl. So in the end, there were just two contenders...

The Wren (pictured below, image taken from the Wren website) is a beauty, there's no denying. It's design credentials are, well, obvious (just look at it). She's pretty. But looks aside, it also worked for me: a smaller size and so more manageable for someone with pint-sized height like me.

My heart was set on the Wren. We even made an appointment to go view it. But then I chanced upon the lovely Cycle Chic blog which happened to make a mention of quite possibly the cutest bike brand ever: Bobbin Bicycles.

And then I saw it. Say hello to my new Bobbin Shopper.

Maybe it was the basket that swung it. Or the incredibly non-practical white wheels. Either way, I love it. It's like the Wren only slightly more tongue-in-cheek and playfully retro without taking itself too seriously. Style-wise, it's me all over. Ride-wise, it's fun, small, very manageable and just the right amount of nip for the ambling equivalent of bicycle riding. Check out the Bobbin website, full of all sorts of useful pointers such as telling you what each bike is compatible with (mine: mooching in the park and whole days of playtime).

The baby blue bike seemed a little too cutesy, so I switched to olive green, as per the first picture, instead (I'm 31 now after all). I was a teeny bit wobbly at the start (and, I reiterate, we're only sticking to quiet roads and parks) but I'm all set with a helmet and a reassuringly skilled cycling partner to give me tips along the way. And surprisingly it really is true what they say: you never do forget how to ride a bike, which brings me out in all sorts of childish glee. I can still ride a bike! This makes me happy. Hooray to that.

*This picture is not me on a Bobbin shopper - it's taken from the adorable Bobbin website which is where all the three shopper pictures are also from. 

Mr & Mrs Smith getaway in Wedmore

You know it's time for a break when you love to cook, but don't have time to cook; when you stay up until 2am on consecutive nights working on very, very last minute newspaper deadlines that the editor wants, like, now; and your mother asks what's wrong because she heard on the grapevine that is really just your brother reading your tweets that you've resorted to take out (take out!) at least three times in one week. Yep, for me, that's about breaking point.

So, we needed what the French call une petite pause. Not quite a holiday but just a stop, a little weekend away. Which, rather happily happened to be my first Mr and Mrs Smith getaway.

Full disclosure: I'm in love with Mr and Mrs Smith (and no, this trip wasn't a press freebie). I waste HOURS on the website, looking at insanely expensive but just so, so lovely hotels that don't look like hotels but rather cool, luxurious homes away from home although, let's face it, they can sometimes be a bit more for millionaires than mere mortals like me. 

But then I spotted The Swan, a tiny little boutique getaway in Somerset with only six rooms which was within reach money-wise and not ostentatious for a weekend away and so it was decided: we'd leave our laptops, I promised not to check my Twitter timeline on my phone* and off we went.

It was, well, just lovely. We got there earlier than expected, so they gave us a table for lunch while they finished up our room. Admittedly, I was at first a little disappointed by the menu, purely because there only appeared to be one vegetarian friendly option so we ended up having to order exactly the same thing, which I wouldn't normally have picked (a bubble and squeak of potato, cauliflower and poached egg), but was much tastier than it sounded, though the creamy scrambled eggs and portabello mushrooms we had the next morning at breakfast were so delicious, I would have asked for seconds if I could have.



Our room (above) was HUGE, with the right kind of low-key design - a vintage lamp here, a gorgeous grey armchair in the corner, a mid-century desk, a roll-top bath and the prettiest bevelled glass mirrors (three big ones, all in a row) in the bathroom, which inspired me to order one from eBay as soon as I got home. He caught up on a fortnight's worth of sleep lost working late in one afternoon; I finished reading two novels (please read Vanessa Diffenbaugh's The Language of Flowers). Here's some pics of the other rooms too:

We ate pizza (sadly we forgot to book a table for evening dinner downstairs) across the street, popped into a pretty little homeware shop next door and watched 500 Days of Summer on the enormous flatscreen. A pit-stop in Bath to scoff some tea and cake, and then we were back home in London.

Okay, so to be honest, we didn't do much. But the quiet life; you know, it's a good life.

*in spirit with the whole weekend of not doing anything, we didn't take photos either. So pics here are all from The Swan and Mr & Mrs Smith 

A weekend in Helsinki

It was snowing, nearly minus 20 degrees and cold. So cold in fact that my fingers froze everytime I took my gloves off, so I gave up with the SLR and resorted to the Android instead (hence the polaroid vintage pictures)

The hotel was reassuringly warm (and also happens to have tasty breakfasts)

While out on my wanderings, I stumbled on some random vintage chairs, as you do

And found a pretty awesome indoor Nordic food market, Eat & Joy, with hot soup, pulla (sweet cinnamon bread) and much more

I've only ever seen the H&M home range online, so was quite surprised to see a dedicated store (although it seems to have been the exact same range for ages)

 

Started the next day at Fleuriste, a lovely French-style cafe

With pretty china, tea and cakes

Wandered through the design district and stumbled on some lovely boutiques. This one's called  Pino 

Wish I had better pictures, but Marimekko's flagship store was amazing, and huge

There's plenty to do: the Design Museum, tons of design shops, the Cathedral, the harbour. 

More coming up on Finland soon, with travel pieces I'll be linking to. But all in all, it's pretty cool simply seeing a city completely under snow.

Is it rain? Is it snow?

Who knows? All I know is, it's cold.

Rifle Paper Co

Blanca Gomez

Yoke

Dig the Earth

Dig the Earth

Laura Amiss

Heavenly quinoa full of good things

R and I are pasta and potato junkies. But with him trying to train for the marathon, and me trying to keep up, we're trying to mix it up a little and be a bit healthier. On a mission to find something high protein yet delightful to eat, I made this, a mismatch of this kale and pesto quinoa recipe from 101Cookbooks.com and this butternut squash and feta quinoa recipe from Lorraine Pascale.

I don't have a precise recipe, as I sort of blended the two recipes together and added in a little instinct. First I put some butternut squash in the oven to roast (it took about 20 minutes).  Then, I put the quinoa on to cook in water, while I stir fried an onion and garlic clove, before adding some tofu. The tofu browned, I added some sweet red pepper and then the kale and then tipped in a little pot of pomegranate. By this time, the quinoa was fluffy and done, so I mixed the stir-fried veg and the butternut squash with the cooked grains, added a fistful of pine nuts, crumbled in some feta, added two tablespoons of pesto, tons of fresh mint and basil, and it was done.

It's the first time I've ever tried quinoa, and I feel virtuously satisfied as a result. It's amazing how many natural flavours come out and how light yet filling it all is; the quinoa grains are like little broken pearls, the pomegranates luscious gems with that oh-so-satisfying crunch. Very tasty, amazingly light, and so, so wonderfully good.

Home London 2012

I spent the day at Home on Monday, where I was eyeing up new trends for 2012 for the Guardian. It was an amazing show - they have obviously worked really hard to only get quality designers and brands in. While you can't buy what you like at a trade show (it's not open to the public), it is great for eye candy and you don't have that market traderish crowd selling you stupid kitchen gadgets like some so-called 'interiors' shows do. Anyway my write-up about it all is here, but here's some more pics of things that caught my eye...

Ferm Living

Muted warm wintery things from Verso Design

Marimekko's new Helsinki range, based on an original 1950s design out the archive

Donna Wilson's lovely throws

Swedish ceramics at Sagaform

Handprinted, homemade bags and cards by Alexandra Snowdon

Ace biscuit cushions by Nikki McWilliams