The county of Hampshire, to the southwest of London, has borne witness to some famous rivalries. From Portsmouth, Nelson set sail to fight Napoléon's fleet at Trafalgar; at Chawton, Jane Austen wrote of Anne Elliot and Louisa Musgrave vying for Captain Wentworth's affections in Persuasion; at Winchester, the Round Table fancifully attributed to King Arthur commemorates his ever-competitive knights. But the latest contest—happily for visitors—is between two of Britain's finest hotels: the long-revered Chewton Glen and the new Four Seasons Hotel Hampshire.
The pair have certain things in common. Both were developed from fine classical manor houses of mellow red brick; both have magnificent spas; both provide extraordinarily friendly and efficient service; and both are easy to get lost in. Yet each of these properties offers such a different experience that they could well be on separate planets rather than fifty miles apart.
Chewton Glen—which is celebrating its fortieth anniversary this year—is the product of painstaking organic growth. Bought as a dilapidated eight-bedroom guesthouse, it has undergone an apparently ceaseless program of improvements to become the fifty-eight-bedroom hotel it is today. (Among the most recent additions are a hydrotherapy pool and a spa café.) In the words of Martin Skan, who created the hotel and owned it until recently, "I got the builders in on the day I bought it, and they've been here ever since."
Wandering through its labyrinthine toile de Jouy–papered corridors, you realize that without Skan's vision, this place could have amounted to little or nothing. Its higgledy-piggledy structure defies every tenet of ergonomic design, yet here is a hotel that runs like clockwork and whose disparate elements combine against the odds to form a charming, coherent whole.
This is just as true of the decor as it is of the architecture. Chewton Glen was once the epitome of floral-chintz English country-house style, but though the chintz remains in most of the bedrooms and also in the hotel's three supremely comfortable drawing rooms, there has been a shift toward a more contemporary look, masterminded by Skan's wife, Brigitte. In the three-room Poacher Suite, for example, pale wood paneling is combined with neutral and earth-colored fabrics, frosted glass and funky lamps. The spa is done in the same vein, and even in the more traditional bar and restaurant, dark-red wallpaper, velvet pillows and amusing wall lamps sprouting leaves suggest a 21st-century sensibility.
This revamp has attracted a slightly younger clientele, though when I visited, it was still the over-sixties who were most in evidence, in keeping with the spirit of refined tranquillity that is the hotel's hallmark. With Southampton only twenty miles away, cruise passengers are frequent guests, and there has been an influx of Russians studying English (the nearby city of Bournemouth is renowned for its language schools).
The Skans sold Chewton Glen a few months ago, but Martin, who has taken an advisory role in the hotel's administration, is confident that its spirit and traditions will be respected. "I had a couple of offers from large hotel companies," he says, "but I preferred to sell it to someone who would look after it and not want to change things too much." He certainly does not see Chewton Glen ever going overboard for modernity. "The old-fashioned element is what many of our guests come here for," he says. So although Bang & Olufsen sound systems, wide-screen TVs and DVD players are standard throughout the hotel, these amenities will continue to coexist with the fine antique furniture and the classical prints chosen by Brigitte (who remains in charge of interior decoration). Each room is furnished differently, so everyone is likely to have a favorite, but I would choose one of the traditionally decorated rooms near the croquet lawn, since these are filled with light, thanks to their large French windows.
LOG-IN TO POST A COMMENT
POST A COMMENT