It's Not Grim Up North
Lucy gives Northumberland a second chance, and it wins her over
“We’ve gone on holiday by mistake” I said, quoting Withnail, when I spent a whole week on a campsite, with my inlaws, in a field somewhere outside Hexham, Northumberland about fifteen years ago. I said this several times an hour, for seven days straight.
It was a terrible decision of mine, and I have to own it, because it was entirely my idea. I do sometimes wonder if I was dropped on my head as a child. This trip was based on my never having been to Northumberland and thinking it sounded beautiful, and not oversubscribed and full of Americans, like the Lake District.
I am not a townie, I love the countryside and adore being outside, but I do not like camping one bit. It’s uncomfortable, involves a catalogue of really tedious chores and worst of all, you have to deal with other campers, who are irritatingly upbeat and take delight in fussing about keeping “house” and wanting to chat, when all I want to do is stab them with the plastic spork that I am forced to eat with. Please don’t invite me camping, you will regret it.
In the past year I have been to Northumberland twice - but in style - on two fabulous press trips. Strangely enough, the two places I stayed were only ten minutes away from each other and stranger still, about ten minutes from that godawful campsite.
One was Hjem, a restaurant with rooms - a Michelin-starred restaurant, as it happens, serving wonderful locally grown and foraged ingredients, with a bit of a Scandinavian flourish (and no sporks).
Hjem is run by a Swedish/Northumberland couple - Alex Nietosvuori (who is originally from Sweden) and Ally Thompson, who comes from the local area. The restaurant and rooms are in a pub called The Hadrian. The name of the restaurant, “Hjem” is the word for “home” in both of the owners’ local dialects. It looks a bit scary to pronounce, for non-Swedes/Northumbrians, but it isn’t really - it’s pronounced “Yem”.
The bedrooms were modern, spacious and warm. The restaurant is only open in the evening - but settle in for an absolutely superb tasting menu paired with either a flight of wines or a selection of juices.
Like a lot of sensible Michelins, this place has recognised that more people want to drink something other than alcohol with their fine dining, so are producing interesting and non-babyish pairings. Did I have the juice pairing? Yeah no. I have to admit to having wine and not even the carefully chosen pairing, just my usual buckets of old world Chardonnay, because as I have said before, I am a Basic Burgundy Bitch. The wine I was given was magnificent.
Just across the road from Hjem is the village of Wall, its stone houses arranged around a village green, with a little church. If you carry on along the road, a sign pointing into a field leads to an interesting part of Hadrian’s Wall - Brunton’s Turret the remains of a turret that the men of the Twentieth Legion built and used as shelter in the hideous weather, that must have felt so dire for those poor soldiers of Mediterranean heritage.
The other place I visited was Matfen Hall, a superb hotel in a grand manor house, with a gorgeous spa. It’s been completely overhauled and the interior design is very, very top end. I kept cooing at wallpaper and admiring all the fancy finishes. Am I shallow for liking expensive things? Yes, probably, but if you also appreciate top quality gear and the world’s most comfortable beds then you really should visit. Luxury is not a strong enough word - it’s quite extraordinary and I did not want to go home.
Matfen Hall has a twenty seven hole golf course, which seemed nine holes too many, but means you can mix it up and play different nine-hole loops around the course, so you never get bored.
I am not allowed to play golf as it makes me cry with rage. I can’t even play crazy golf as I don’t have the temperament. But if you are allowed to play golf, or have a partner who likes it, then this place is the absolute business.
With the weather being all Northern, the spa is a wondrous thing with a large swimming pool under a glass roof, a sauna and hammam and various treatments for lovers of pampering. You could easily spend a whole weekend here, never get in the car, and never tire of the place. I didn’t even bring the car, because another quite brilliant and surprising thing about Northumberland is how quick and easy it is to reach by train. The line from London Kings Cross up the East Coast is ridiculously speedy - reaching Newcastle station in about three hours. It’s then a short train trip through the suburbs of Newcastle and through rainy forests to Hexham. From there it’s a half hour taxi ride to Matfen Hall (Hjem is a similar distance away)
Oh the food, the food! There is a reasonably new hire, a French pastry chef who is an absolute genius. Afternoon tea is served in the beautiful orangery and I can safely say that the scones (both cheese and raisin) were the best I have ever eaten AND they were made by a Frenchman, not some Cornish or Devonian chef, giving out about which order to put on the jam and cream.
There were lovely sandwiches and delicate little cakes. I skipped breakfast and lunch and sat on the train with my stomach rumbling loudly (I have a very good appetite and never skip meals) so I was able to devour the entire three tiers of teatime treats.
In the evening the Emerald restaurant, so called because of the stunning green wallpaper and stuffed peacocks decorating the former library of the house, serves a tasting menu. I know people are rude about tasting menus and look down their noses at them, but they are very spoilt people indeed. I love a tasting menu - yes they can be hit and miss, but I like the surprise and most of all, I like trying to get into the mind of the chef and work out what their “thing” is.
I imagined, wrongly, that the menu would be quite traditional, nothing too quirky. Yes, there was a strong focus on locally sourced produce and expensive ingredients, but the cooking and presentation were imaginative. I was absolutely blown away by a poached Lindisfarne oyster dish, served with a banana curd (and I usually hate bananas) with a bit of funk, a bit of slipperiness - it was an exciting dish.
As I chewed my oyster (and you should chew them, it’s absolute nonsense to swallow them whole) I noticed touches of salinity coming from tiny jelly cubes. “Is that the oyster water, made into jelly?” I asked the waiter, who confirmed it was. I thought that was very clever, the cubes seasoned and balanced the dish, adding another slightly challenging texture. It was certainly not what I expected to be eating, in the middle of a park, in the depths of Northumberland.
So yes, I do like Northumberland now. I like looking at the rain coming down from behind a large window in a mansion, as I change for dinner, preparing to feast on oysters and mussels in a grand library. I like wading through a boggy field to look at the northwest frontier of the Roman empire, before drying off in a warm, Scandinavian inspired bedroom and going downstairs to demolish a Michelin-starred feast. Thank you Hjem and Matfen Hall for having me and for changing my mind about this extremely beautiful part of our country.