Some people might regard The Wentworth, on the Aldeburgh seafront in Suffolk, as a museum piece — with its wall-to-wall carpets, pelmets and strict rules about where to sit at meals.
It has been in the family for ever (well, since 1920) and at the reception desk there’s a framed photograph of various Pritts, who have served as chairman over the years, dispensing genteel hospitality to those of a certain age.
Certainly, the average age during our stay on a Sunday evening is well north of 70, which might not be surprising given that there’s a £20-a-head three-course dinner offer on Sundays.
The Wentworth can be found on Suffolk’s Aldeburgh beachfront.
The decor — and, more importantly, the spirit of the place — is rooted in the early 1980s when chintzy country house hotels began to assert themselves and when men were asked politely to wear jackets and ties if looking to be admitted to the ‘fine-dining’ restaurant.
There’s no jacket-and-tie rule here — but that doesn’t stop several men sporting neckwear, including one in a fetching cravat.
Our room faces the pebble beach, with Maggi Hambling’s steel scallop sculpture a few hundred yards away. There’s an awful whiff of cleaning fluid so we throw open the windows, but it lingers throughout our visit. The interior is clean and tidy, however it’s bland. It is a vast ocean, but I still feel very claustrophobic.
Aldeburgh’s pebble beach was visible from the Inspector’s bedroom.
There’s something of a private club atmosphere in the dining room, albeit hushed. So they can hear everything we say, and so can we.
So it’s best behaviour all round.
‘Listen how he speaks to his wife,’ whispers my wife. This is what I understand.
‘Would you care for another drop of wine, my dear?’ I ask her.
‘That’s better,’ she says.
We don’t want to sit at table 26 at breakfast, so we find one in a corner.
‘Excuse me, but could you please sit here,’ says a waiter, pointing to table 26.
The inspector stated that the hotel’s interior decor dates back to 1980. This is one bedroom.
Which we do — and are soon joined by the same couple as the night before, with whom we strike up conversation.
‘It’s all wonderfully spoiling here, isn’t it?’ says the smartly attired woman.
It is. The Wentworth, however, is a tasteful choice. I can think of plenty of people who would love it — and plenty of others who would run a mile.