It is not often you find yourself at a party dressed in hunting tweeds, the best man at a wedding to a WW2 fighter pilot you just met or watching two businessmen duel while you play croquet. Nor do you find yourself taking part in a colonial treasure hunt, cutting a rug to a live swing band, visiting a secret gin bar or having high tea at midnight. Yet, this exactly where I found myself last Friday. You see, on a whim, I had accepted an invitation of a friend to attend a party being held at the rather lovely sounding Stoke Place.
Stoke Place once the country abode of Queen Charlotte, is a three storey ‘William and Mary’ style house transformed into a rather splendid hotel. The gardens, designed by Capability Brown, include an ornamental lake and various orchards, abundant with local fauna and wildlife. The house, like its staff, is friendly, welcoming and professional. The rooms are well thought out and without too much effort achieve their intention of being individual, British and relaxing. You can see why more and more people are coming here to wind down, party and get married.
On this occasion I was here for the Rule Britannia Party, one of a series of events organised by the White Blackbird, an events company dedicated to ‘reviving the country house party’. Watching the arriving guests from my room I could see all were keeping in tune with the dress code. There was an array of tiaras, pith helmets, cricket whites, silk scarves, vintage gowns, smoking jackets, riding crops, dinner suits and more.
The evening started off with punch provided by Bulldog Gin, a visit to the Tea Bar and a table for two in the restaurant. Supper was a mixed affair; we shared a starter of duck spring rolls and plum sauce - hardly British but delicious all the same. For my main course I had an extremely tasty but small portion of fish and chips whilst my equerry had a fairly mediocre sausage and mash. Pudding was two pints of Guinness and a couple of cocktails.
Full of food, drink and excitement we decided that it was time for a wander. A rather long one as I remember, as it involved the already mentioned activities, a Victorian tarot reading, an elocution lesson and intermittent periods of gin cocktails and shots of rum. At one point I remember playing and winning a series of games on a giant chessboard (thank you school Chess Society!).
The following morning, with a headache capable of bringing down an empire, we headed to reception to check out, the intention being to get back in time to do some work. Understandably, with the sun shining, being in the countryside and after a brief chat with the lovely receptionist it did not take much to convince us to spend the afternoon there and take lunch on the veranda. The rest of the afternoon was spent lying in the hammocks by the lake, fending of the advances of an amorous goose and working our way through a burger of epic taste and proportion.
Without a doubt I had a wonderful time and enjoyed a much-needed escape from the rigmarole of normal life and its stresses. I had even forgotten that I was only half an hour from London, but was rudely reminded of this as we stopped off in Slough for some petrol and a cornetto.
Byron
Maths for Mummies:
The interior of the Beckford Arms is traditional, simple and stylish – lots of Farrow & Ball-esque colours and real open fire places – but with a bit of a cool edge from a good iPod playlist and some really gorgeous male members of staff. Service is friendly and welcoming and the place clearly appeals to slightly bohemian Urbanites and post-shoot locals alike. It’s not a poncy gastropub, pretending to be something it’s not: it’s a traditional, local pub that concentrates on getting all the right things right.
There are eight rooms - our standard double was comfortable and well-equipped, if a little snug (which would probably have been less noticeable for a couple than it was for two friends sharing). Each room has crisp Egyptian cotton sheets, a snuggly goose down duvet, is en suite (with a bath or a shower or both) and has a flat screen TV, DVD and iPod docking station.
