Brome Grange Hotel, Suffolk – a weekend roam around Brome
Sometimes even a city girl needs a dose of country Bumpkin.
We headed off to Brome Grange Hotel for the weekend, nabbing a deal from GreatLittleBreaks. The hotel was a nice mix of modern with a spa area and old, with a little nook of a bar at the back.
The spa had a little Jacuzzi and a steam room which was nice to chill in for an hour or so (but it was pretty small so you probably wouldn’t while a whole afternoon away there or go there just for the spa) and a gym to take advantage of.
There were also treatments available and both myself and Dan got a deep tissue massage.
I’ve never been massaged by a guy before at a spa and it felt weirdly intimate to have him unhook my bra and ask me to unbutton my jeans as if we were about to embark on an odd English Carry-On style affair where my name was Babs and he was Alfred or something. It was perfectly good but I didn’t really relax the way I would with a woman masseuse.
He did properly break down my knotted muscles though to the brink of pain though, which maybe a woman would be more reluctant to do.
The hotel had this amazing, yet hilarious, way of slightly not managing to get things quite right quite a lot but having this sort of insouciant ‘yeah what can you do, never mind eh’ air about them, which was pretty funny.
On one of the evenings and following mornings we were there, there was a problem with their gas which meant a reduced dinner menu, no cooked breakfast and a chilly bedroom. The lady serving breakfast in the morning was delightfully unencumbered by this fact, shrugging as she told us ‘we can do you scrambled eggs. Or beans’ with no explanation given.
Other examples included a shower where a bath should have been, a clingfilmed side plate of chocolates in lieu of the ‘box of chocolates’ on our reservation and our newspapers never showing up.
The staff were kind of weirdly happy to tell their guests things were just not going to go as planned or just hope you didn’t realise as you searched for your newspaper in the morning or attempted to crank up your radiator to no avail.
This would’ve been a bit annoying if we were paying full price for everything but the deal was good and it was quite funny in a weird way. We did mention it to the receptionist as we left and got a bottle of wine knocked off the bill, which we were happy with.
The evening food was good as well, which helped. Think hearty English fare – mustard mash and pork casseroles and steak and ale pies. Good for the winter months.
Apart from the spa, we also went out exploring a bit. The area away from the main road of the hotel was a trove of English countryside, full of winding lanes, expanses of field and a farm or two dotted around.
We went out on one of those eerily beautiful winter afternoons where the rain has settled into damp fog and twilight sets in by 4. A family had made a bonfire in their garden and the atmosphere was a mix of clean, sharply fresh air and that lovely bonfire scent (if they made a perfume of this I would potentially buy it although I would smell permanently charred). Our taxi driver did tell us a story about a murder around the area recently, but fortunately it was our taxi driver on the way back to the station, so it’s all good.
The Brome Grange Hotel gets a sturdy mark from me (if I was on TripAdvisor I’d waver between a 3 and a 4).
I'm Florence and I like to write.
When I'm not writing about pensions and mortgages in my day job, I write about my life in London, in which I cannot afford a mortgage even if I sold off a kidney, and I've still got another 40 years at least before I can access my pension.
I'd say I'm an ordinary girl looking for an extraordinary life, but clichéd phrases really annoy me.
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