Do you remember when children were meant to be seen and not heard, and actually, where possible, not seen at all? Certainly feels like my childhood, but while the modern world was catching up to a more inclusive parenting, 25 years ago many hotels still lagged far behind. I will never forget having to dress my children for dinner at a hotel in Corfe Castle (even I was not allowed to wear jeans, having had to purchase a pair of trousers in a local “Men’s Outfitters” after Mrs Nigel made me put the dead man’s trousers back on the rail at Oxfam), and watching the waiters lift “silver” platters from each dreary main course, charged at full price if I wanted the kids to eat with me in the evening.

So when I discovered Moonfleet Manor, it was like someone had read my mind, and created the perfect hotel: Great facilities for the kids, a “Games Barn”, Kids Club and child listening in the evening, so you could come down to a civilised meal (even in jeans), served on crisp linen. It was the perfect antidote to 70s style British hotels, giving harassed (albeit slightly well heeled) parents their lives back for a few days. Certainly better than Bedruthan Steps which was child-friendly, just on Marxist-Leninist lines. Moonfleet was so great, we even took the in-laws for their 50th wedding anniversary, the perfect place for a family who liked a bit of luxury and pampering.

Fast forward to the present day. Mrs Nigel and I trudged the “Salt Path” for a week, and decided that rather than moving on every night, we wouldrest for three days at Moonfleet, and start our walks from there every day. No tent or Primus stove for us: We are hiking in style. But also no movie deal :-(

It’s in a lovely location, and we had a good, but by no means cheap, room on the ground floor. Bizarrely there was a large air conditioning unit standing in the corner, which proved unusable due to its late-night jumbo jet impression, which didn’t allow for the best of sleeps. Overall the room was comfortable, and while the shower could only be used for 60 seconds at a time before flowing onto the floor, the maintenance people were able to fix it within 24 hours.

But that was the pinnacle of the experience.

Perhaps our standards were just a lot lower when we had kids, and so the contrast between our daily lives of snot, tears and shouting (and that was just us), and the haven of old Moonfleet, was such that we would put up with any old crap. But I don’t think so. In recent years, we have discovered the Pig chain of hotels, and have remarked how much like Moonfleet they are, with casual but impeccable attention to detail, and a great dining experience. Except that was the Moonfleet of memories, rather than the dark side of the Moonfleet we encountered.

Where to start?

Service: The general idea is that there is no bar, but someone will be round within 5 minutes to take your order, so no fuss. If someone doesn’t, pop into the restaurant area, and someone will come out. I can genuinely say whoever designed that system was having a laugh. Often 20 minutes would go by without seeing a member of staff. One time I went to fetch someone, who told me they were “going downstairs” and to ask someone else, whereas when it was Mrs Nigel’s turn (we are equal opportunities complainers), she found herself harassing staff in the kitchen itself. It just doesn’t work in practice. Even a bell would be better (if somewhat demeaning, as we saw at the Costa da Morte Parador.)

And it is not the fault of the staff. There was only one real professional member of waiting staff, who had clearly been trained in a restaurant and/or hotel, and when he was on duty, he tried to be in 50 places at once, making sure the guests were being properly looked after. But apart from him, it was mostly just children with trays, with a smattering of other staff who were all friendly, but you just felt a real absence of both management and training. Not exactly unusual in British hospitality these days, but you should get what you pay for.

Decor: One of the things that was lovely about Moonfleet was the decor, a sort of jumble of Victoriana, with a modern twist (zebra and leopard print sofas, much loved by small children). It has been “refurbished”, seemingly by someone who was told to make the place as drab as possible. It has all of the charm (and some of the furniture) of a Gentlemen’s Club, and not one of the new funky ones. I looked up the paint colour, and I believe it was “Sludge Grey”, but that may have been after a Negroni or 2. As an aside, 10 points if you can identify who that is in the picture (Seriously, we and Google Images were stumped)

Food: The restaurant used to have tablecloths. Maybe I have turned into my Granny, but there is something very nice about a tablecloth, and when I used to be a harassed parent of young children (rather than the harassed parent of young adults I now am), it marked a real transition from “Kid’s tea” to the grown-up portion of the evening. Now, everything is wipe clean: In fact it has a marked resemblance to the Gatwick No 1 Lounge, and that is not meant as a compliment. It has all the charm of school canteen.

But, you might hope that the food would make up for things, but that was not going to happen. The a la carte menu definitely looked like it had been to a Harvester before: Burger and Chips, Steak and Chips, Fish and Chips. I was surprised not to find a Chips and Chips option. What has gone wrong? Am I just too old for Moonfleet, and it is now the exclusive haunt of the Nando’s generation?

There was some attempt by the kitchen to escape the pub food, but it was an eclectic mix. £100 for a steak? £40 for local seabass (available for £25 in every other restaurant along the coast). We picked our way through the “extras” menus, and there were one or two bright spots. The cod roe, hipsi cabbage and pork belly were all very good, so whoever is in the kitchen trying to do the right thing, I really wish the chef luck: You are wasted on the rubbish they are making you cook otherwise. It all felt a bit Samisdat, with the chef sneaking out a hand printed menu on the sly in the hope of escaping the beady eye of the catering manager (who just seemed to drift aimlessly around the restaurant).

Breakfast was a bit of a tragedy. Notwithstanding the promised of a freshly cooked English Breakfast, the cooked food was served canteen-style, help yourself (or not, because it was not good).

This was one review I was hoping not to have to write. I had been so looking forward to going back, and the experience disappointed on almost every level. We did enjoy the Games Barn (table tennis, foosball and Sega Rally), although felt sorry for the parents watching their kids as the bar has been replaced by a soft drink vending machine: I do not believe that modern parents don’t enjoy a drink while supervising their children bouncing 10 abreast on the trampoline, and Diet Coke just doesn’t cut it (maybe modern parents bring their own coke? What do I know, maybe that was the secret to parenting all along?)

Had it been half the cost, I would not be grumbling as much, but it is Pig prices, but you only get the snout. Moonfleet needs to look hard at its product, train its staff, revise its menu (and food pricing) and invest in a little table linen.

Conclusion

Overall rating: 3.5/5

Food: 3/5

Drinks: 4/5

Rooms: 4/5

Ambiance: 3.5/5

Service: 3/5

Would we go back: No

Moonfleet Manor: https://luxuryfamilyhotels.co.uk/locations/moonfleet-manor