About 15 years ago my wife and I made the sort of discovery that always causes angst in journalists. Does one tell the world about this delightful, hidden jewel where the staff are friendly and efficient, the food delicious, the hotel intimate and the surrounding landscape stunningly unspoilt? Or would that be letting daylight in on majesty by inviting the hordes, with the eventual result of the owner cashing in by quadrupling it in size, adding saunas, heated outdoor pools and a small 'wellness' stadium before he sells up to someone much less competent and takes up a ropey career on daytime TV or retires to the South of France?
Mercifully until now, nobody has asked me to write about Morston Hall on the North Norfolk coast. My wife and I have stayed there four or five times since, generally for her birthday, and while there have been refinements and the odd modest expansion, the ethos and brilliance that first inspired chef and moving spirit Galton Blackiston remain. Indeed, Galton himself remains, very visibly, despite, since 1999, his Michelin star, and the odd telly appearance.
The 'Hall' in Morston Hall makes the place sound rather grander than it now appears. In fact the hotel is essentially a 13-roomed, flint-built home built in the an 18th century when Morston was on the route for those selling wool to — and buying contraband from — the continent. The rooms in the main house are ludicrously comfortable and the Pavilion, six further rooms in the garden (all right, it has expanded a bit, but it remains 'a small hotel'), are both well appointed and rather larger.
The service is excellent — genuinely friendly (rather than businesslike friendly), efficient and painstaking, and the food is outstandingly good, another reason why Galton has so many repeat bookings. We went in early December, which for those with binos is one of the best times and places for birds anywhere in the UK. Between December and February, when the marshes in mainland Europe are often frozen, the coast plays host to half the world's Brent and pink footed geese, squadrons of which you can scarcely miss arrowing their way purposefully across Norfolk's vast blue-grey skies.
In summer, it's quintessential bucket and spade country, with the vast beach at Holcombe down the road and endless scope for messing about in boats, not least a visit to the 500-strong colony of seals. But if you want to very little, Morston Hall is one of the most restful hotels you'll ever visit.
Morston Hall, Morston, Holt, Norfolk NR25 7AA (01263 741041; morstonhall.com). Rooms start from £150 per person per night.
