Hotel Guru: Glencot House

Last Updated: 12:01am BST 17/09/2007
Fiona Duncan visits Glencot House, an idiosyncratic hotel in Somerset.

We are in Somerset, on the banks of the Axe, where it emerges from the unfathomable darkness of Wookey Hole, in one of the most idiosyncratic country house hotels imaginable. Glencot House is a charming hotel, nestled on the the banks of the Axe.

	Glencot House is a charming hotel, nestled on the the banks of the Axe.

I could describe it in detail, but in the same way that it's unfair to give away the plot of a good book, it's perhaps better to let you discover it for yourself.

Talking of books - and should you want a rollicking read - there's no better way of unmasking the colourful character behind this hotel than to settle down with the recently published novel, The Wookey Hole Affair.

In an innovative piece of publicity, this tongue-in-cheek whodunit serves as an introduction to its author, Martin Miller, and his three real-life enterprises: Glencot House; its sister hotel in Notting Hill, Miller's Residence; and the literary salon across the road, Miller's Academy of Arts and Sciences.

As well as describing his hotels, Miller humorously portrays himself (in the anagrammatical guise of Tarmin Rimmell) as an amiable, quixotic "gypsy who never settled", with an unruly head of hair and an attachment to leggy women, cigarettes, gin (he even has his own real-life brand, Miller's) and, last but not least, auction houses. In the last he deploys, in fact and fiction, his brilliant nose for a bargain and innate eye for design.

Miller, who in the 1980s published the best-selling Miller's Antiques Price Guide, traces his love of creating interiors with eclectic antiques to his childhood passion for building elaborate camps solely furnished from rubbish tips.

Today he decorates his hotels in much the same way, buying antiques and unusual objects purely for their visual appeal. "Those huge Chinese vases look fabulous up there, don't they?" he asks. "You'd never know they didn't have backs".

Though his interiors may look like a happy accident, there's method in his madness, and not a stuffed peacock, row of porcelain dolls' heads, teetering pile of books or crooked painting is out of place.

Glencot House, a brooding Jacobean-style mansion, with the River Axe running through its lovely grounds, is the perfect setting for such elegant, candlelit theatricality.

Every richly coloured reception room, and every luxurious velvet-and-damask bedroom has the feel of an Aladdin's Cave. And then there's the snooker room, the all-black mini cinema and, set behind a wrought-iron gate, the totally unexpected plunge pool.

I'm giving too much away. The bedrooms are comfortable, with modern bathrooms; the food, from French chef Laurent Courtois, is more than satisfactory, and the tranquil grounds are full of surprises. Most importantly, the hotel is efficiently run by Martin's business partner, Carey Ravden, and her friendly staff.

After a year of ownership, Martin's role is diminishing. "The vans, full of extraordinary things, come less often now," a staff member says, "though we did get a lorry load of books the other day. Amazingly, they all fitted in."

Back to books. I counted more than 100 in my room alone, neatly displayed, and once I'd finished The Wookey Hole Affair, there were at least a dozen that I could happily have curled up with. I'll go back and do just that.

Rooms

**** Classed as 'Intimate', 'Signature', 'Four Poster' according to size and grandeur; good bathrooms

Service

**** The smooth service and housekeeping happily bely the hotel's eccentric appearance.

Character

Food & drink

Value for money