If you are looking for the original “School for Scandal”, then look no further than Cliveden House in Berkshire.  Nestled on top of a large hill, overlooking the Thames, this National Trust owned property has seen a 17^th Century duel that ended to a ménage à trois, a gathering of British Nazis in the 1930s, and most famously, was where John Profumo met Christine Keeler, which ultimately led to the downfall of the Macmillan government.

Park Round the Back, Please

But by far the greatest scandal was when I was asked a few years ago to park my slightly battered Renault Grand Scenic round the back as it was bringing the tone of the place down (the car park out front being the reserve for a monochrome display of Range Rover-esque ostentation)

This has always been a happy place for Mrs Nigel and I, who decided to come back notwithstanding the parking humiliation and a rather ropey evening meal last time.  In fact, so keen were we, we took out a second mortgage and booked for 2 nights on the “Spa Retreat” package, which throws in a welcome lunch and two treatments in the spa.  We also bought a new car.

It was a glorious day when we arrived, roof down, and rolled up to the main entrance.  Immediately someone came across to take our bags and whisk us into reception.  A delightful receptionist checked us in and made sure all of our lunch and dinner reservations were matched to the room.  We then went off for a lovely walk round the grounds, and emerged from the forest in time for our 1pm booking in the Astor Grill (which is what passes for the casual dining experience).

And this is where things started to go wrong.  What you will find if you stay at Cliveden is that the staff are friendly and eager to please.   But many are anxious to please, and I think I know why.  Someone in management has read a lot of negative reviews on TripAdvisor and elsewhere about the service and particularly communication. And has given everyone a rocket.  But I am not sure they have actually put in place a plan to fix the issues beyond this.

The Lunch That Never Was

Lunch was a case in point.

Our package included a “two course” welcome lunch allowance of £35 plus a soft drink. But when we arrived at our lunch reservation at the Astor Grill (confirmed by reception who knew we were on the Spa Retreat package) they had no knowledge of the offer at all. After a lot of to-ing and fro-ing, we were led into the bowels of the Spa, where it appears there is a café, and this is the only place you can redeem the £35 lunch. And let me tell you, if you have the salad and added protein, it comes to £35, so I am not sure exactly where the second course comes into it.  I’m not knocking the salad (which was very nice, but don’t have the obviously bought in French Dressing), but the obvious lack of any communications and briefing.  I do not believe we are the first people this has happened to.

We Take These Things Very Seriously

The receptionist (who took us up to our room later), was massively apologetic and said “we take these things very seriously” and sent us up some cakes as a sorry.  Honestly, it was delightful.  What was less delightful was that I was going to hear the phrase “we take these things very seriously” more than once during our stay, which again points to the fact that management is clearly angry, but doesn’t quite know how to fix things (I’ll give them a hint:  Don’t treat every department like a silo.  It was clear to me that the Spa is a fiefdom quite unto itself, and that everything is disconnected)

High Beds and Hot-and-Cold Showers

We booked a Mansion Deluxe Room.  We stayed in one of these the first time we stayed (this is stay number 3), and they are special, overlooking the main courtyard, and are located on the 1^st and 2^nd floors of the main house.  They also give access to the “Butler’s Pantry”, which is basically an excuse not to put fridges in the room.  So, yes, there is “free” beer, wine and soft drinks, but padding down the stairs in your dressing gown to get something when you could just as easily top up a mini-bar in each room seems lazy at this money.  Also, weirdly, you got a small bottle of milk for tea and coffee in the room (small, small), but there were no more in the Pantry.

And while I am at it, the “free“ snacks were a nightmare if you have a peanut allergy:  Wasabi peanuts, Trail Mix (with peanuts), and chocolate buttons.  Ok, so the buttons have no peanuts, but they go very badly with a glass of wine.

Anyhow, back to the room, because this is sounding like a whinge-fest.  It was big and airy, and while done in the “traditional” style (there are “modern classic” rooms as well, but irritatingly for a luxury hotel, you don’t get to choose your room when you reserve), it was comfortable and well laid out.  A word of warning to the elderly and/or infirm.  In our room (Gibson), the bed is stupidly high.  There does seem to be a step you can use to get into the bed, but I’d be nervous about using it to get out in the night.   I just crossed my legs until the sun came up…

The bathroom was massive, with a shower over bath arrangement.  This caused a little consternation as it just refused to stay on the same temperature, a failure of having 2 “traditional” taps and a hot water supply that literally ran hot and cold.  I think you can occasionally drop the Victoriana for a sympathetic thermostatic shower valve.

The bath was lovely (I am told) and there was a lot of space, with enough room to actually put toiletries down. 

All told, excellent accommodation with all the amenities you could want, even down to a heatproof glove for the steamer, so you could get out really stubborn creases.  The turndown service is a nice touch, as they even clean your cups for your morning coffee, but I would have liked a chocolate on the pillow, and the curtains closed.  Small, but important, touches.

Negronis in the Library

After some lazing around in the room, and a pre-drink on the terrace outside the Butler’s Pantry, watching the sun go down, we drifted languidly into the bar area.  The public rooms at Cliveden are amazing, with beautiful wood panelling and acres of style. 

We sat in the library and looked out over the Thames and the gardens (it was pitch black, but we have a vivid imagination).  Drinks were excellent (A fabulous Negroni and some sort of fizzy cocktail one night, a somewhat disappointing Bathtub gin and tonic the next, but that was my fault for switching gins), and the service faultless.  I was brought olives because of my peanut allergy, and they remembered the next night:  Effortless and very classy.

We were whisked into the main dining room and had an excellent seat in the corner.  It is a really splendid setting, and about as grand a dinner experience as many of us mortals will get.

Chicken Porridge and a Bought-In Burger

Sadly, that was very much the high point.

We had checked the menu earlier that day online, and had both settled on the “Whole Duck”.  On our first visit to Cliveden, we had the Beef Wellington, which was one part of the best meals we ever had.  As I said, second time was a disappointment, with every dish stone cold (the kitchen is a long way away, but that seemed like a Cliveden problem, not an us problem).

It turns out that miscommunication really is rife at Cliveden, as the online menu was not what we were offered.  Apparently, we were the first day of the new menu.  I checked the next day, and they still had the old menu up.

So, we bravely picked ourselves up, and worked with what we had.

I started with the venison suet pudding.  The venison and gravy were excellent.  Whoever made the suet pudding clearly was doing it for the first time, and the “crust” was crumbly, rather than moist and yielding.  Mrs Nigel has the sea bream crudo, which she enjoyed, but only because she wasn’t overly hungry.  It was an amuse bouche, not a starter.

But, the food was good at this point.  And we were enjoying a bottle of Verdejo, which was pretty well priced (which cannot be said for the glasses of wine, which are extortionate due to a deliberately hobbled choice).

The main course was a car crash. 

We both had the “Black Garlic and Foie Gras Chicken”, which promised a “confit leg”.  What arrived was what looked like a very small piece of breast with a banana leaf blackened and seared into it, and a cold pot of chicken porridge.  We got them to replace the cold porridge with slightly warmer porridge, but that didn’t improve it much.

After this travesty there was room for cheese, but it was frankly uninspiring.  Even if the waiter had known much about the very limited selection of cheese, he could not do much about the somewhat insipid taste of much of it. 

The fact is, you are paying Ritz prices, and you expect a Ritz level meal (and yes, I have eaten at the Ritz and loved it.  And Claridges, so I get what poncy food is supposed to taste like).  You know the cost when you book, so I’m not complaining about that.  It’s just that this meal would have embarrassed most of the kitchens in most of the places I have reviewed on this site, especially if they had access to the same level of ingredients.

This was brought home on night 2 when we ate at the Astor Grill.

I enjoyed my meal there, starting with a really nice and fresh caprese salad (I made such a fuss asking about how good the Isle of Wight tomatoes could be this time of the year, I think they picked out the very best ones before they spat on them) and the salmon carpaccio.

But when I asked about the burger (something I fancy about once every 2 years), they had to admit they bought it in.  I mean, FFS!  At one of the most exclusive hotels in the UK, they can’t grind some meat and make a patty.  I was shocked.

I also enjoyed the beef rib (which I was assured was made on the premises), but Mrs Nigel was super unhappy with her miso glazed cod.  She often orders this at The Ivy, where they have a lovely light marinade spread over the cod (presumably a mix of soy sauce and miso).  Here at the Astor, it was an inch thick layer of miso which completely overpowered the fish, and made the experience rather unpleasant.  On the upside, the glasses of wine are almost half that in the main restaurant, and definitely no worse.

Elvis has Entered the Building

Let’s see what else I can have a dig at.

The spa area is lovely, and you can hop in the pool and pretend to be Christine Keeler or John Profumo as the whim takes you, and there are a couple of hot tubs, but these get pretty full.  There is also an inside pool, and a range of spa treatments.  We both had a massage, Mrs Nigel the “sleep” massage, and I had the run of the mill one. 

You do get asked what you want before the massage starts. But it reminded me of the old joke where the bloke walks into the barbers, asks for the “Elvis” haircut, and on complaining the cut is nothing like the King’s, is told “Well it would be if Elvis came here”.  It was a nice massage, but these are not at all cheap, and you don’t quite feel you get what you are paying for.

To be frank, the whole thing feels a bit lumpy and disorganised.  Whenever I, or anyone else, complained, it was “we take it very seriously”, and I am sure they do.  But I heard quite a few grumbles while I was there and had quite a few of my own.

The Big Breakfast

It would be unfair of me not to mention the breakfast, which is pretty spectacular, and surprisingly affordable considering how expensive it is in other places now.  If you bought it extra to the room, it would cost you £25 for Continental (and it is a hell of a spread), or £35 for the cooked option.  On the second day, I just had to have the “Lord Astor” breakfast.  He would have been disappointed at the lack of black pudding (and probably kidneys), but overall, it was pretty good.  Excellent quality sausage, well cooked (as opposed to well done) scrambled eggs, but slightly rubbery bacon, an artefact of not being freshly cooked.  Coffee takes a while to come, but you are sitting in one of the grandest breakfast rooms in Britain, so you feel inclined to chill out a bit.

The Bill, the Whole Bill, and nothing but the Bill?

My final gripe (which actually has resulted in the offer of a free lunch at the Astor Grill if I ever go back) was the huge number of extra service charges that ended up on my bill.

We had an all-in-one package for the spa but found that we had been charged a 12.5% service charge on the massages, and a 5% service charge on the room cost.  I’m all for tipping, but I like to know I am doing it.  In the restaurant and bar, it is clear, and I sign for it.  If it’s for luggage, I keep a stock of notes in my pocket (gone are the days of the 50p tip!). And if I stay a while I will leave cash in my room for the cleaners.  Also, I always leave a few quid for the massage if it’s really worked (so not this time).  Frankly, it is just bloody cheeky – Include it in the price, don’t sneak it on the bill.

Also, if you are a National Trust member, show them your card on check-in, as there is a non-member charge.  The National Trust does a wonderful job of looking after Cliveden, and it is well worth exploring the grounds, as we have, and there are many hours of walks.  You can walk further afield along the Thames (we looped down to Marlow and back, which you can do mostly on opposite sides of the river until Bourne End), but remember, there is a steep hill at the end, and there is a small patch of 60 mph road you need to skip along (the wall is coming down, and it forces you off the path)

Astor La Vista

So, will I be going back?  Probably not never, but not for a while.  It used to be my bucket list place to stay in the whole country, but like the elegance of the house in the days of the Astors, perhaps my love for Cliveden has also faded (even though they did let me park outside this time…)

Conclusion:

Overall Rating: 4/5

• Food: 3/5
• Drinks: 4/5
• Service: 4/5
• Ambiance: 5/5
• Accommodation: 4/5
• Spa: 3.5/5
• Value: 3.5/5
• Price: ££££
• Would we go back? A free lunch is not enough of a draw, sadly.

Cliveden House: https://www.clivedenhouse.co.uk/