T R AV E L : A S I A G A R D E N S H O T E L
should the need arise (‘when wouldn’t it?’ I ask myself). I remember driving down the lane towards Dryhill thinking, ‘If I don’t convey the directions to the rest of the group accurately, they might never be seen again’. It isn’t that the property is remote, you just need to make that paradoxical shift out of your city mind and into a countryside-alliance posture. After all, it is surrounded by fourteen acres of woodland and gardens. The gardens surrounding the property on approach are pristine and it’s clear that the property is kept with absolute attention to detail and a deep sense of pride. Having parked my metal steed in the stables (garage), I began unloading my long-suffering Aspinal luggage and made for the warm embrace of one of the farm’s
many open fires. The first thing that strikes you about the property is how jolly-well-appointed it is. I later found out that the interior was curated by the wonderful lady of the house. An eye for fine furnishings is far from a whim. From the beautiful dressers to the four poster bed and the fixtures and fittings, the farm has been furnished with much warmth and care. The farm has five bedrooms, five bathrooms, and sleeps ten. I spent the better part of a day at the property before anyone arrived, so was lucky enough to have the run of the place to myself. That entailed opening the rather perfect hamper filled with local produce and lighting all the fires I could find. The view over the Malvern Hills is quite spectacular. The house must have looked
like a bastion on the treeline with the fires ablaze, welcoming the armies of the West home. It was the sort of vista that you could behold from a warm armchair and completely lose track of time. I spent the evening gliding between the reception rooms and the cellar bar. Many a cocktail has been sipped in that area, I can assure you. Beautifully upholstered cushions festooned the seating areas around the main bar. Deciding to gallantly give up the master suite, in favour of it’s equally well-decked-out little brother meant that I was under the covers in moments and out cold within about 15 minutes. There is something about a countryside style bed that will put you out quicker than a locum. The following morning, I awoke with a sense of vigour, restocked the fire, ensured
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