SEEK OUT THIS WELSH WONDER
A destination hotel that’s a true hidden gem
SHOULD you find yourself on the road from Fishguard heading through Wales towards England, you might do yourself a favour and take a small detour in order to stop off at Narberth.
It’s about half an hour’s drive from Fishguard, so you might find you want to take a short break there — like for about a week. That is if you check in at the Grove Hotel.
Up a long, tree-lined winding driveway (always a good sign), the hotel is set deep in the bucolic Welsh countryside. It has its own 26 acres of meadows and woodland, with a pond, a Japanese style cherry blossom tea garden and a walled vegetable garden. Call me shallow, but a walled garden can make or break a weekend.
Beyond the pond, alive with damsel flies and dragonflies, the Pembrokeshire meadows stretch towards the pale, blue Presili Hills. Where are Mrs Yeats’ boys when you want them? One good at poetry, the other not half bad at painting landscapes. They’d really do justice to this place.
Overlooking the grounds is the main building, a threestorey Georgian residence, converted with oodles of boutiquery — as well as a huge slice of vernacular culture: Welsh rugs, a slate-sided bar, chunks of Welsh coal under a glass table, lace, quilts and Welsh love spoons on the walls. It’s impressive and, dare I say, very cosy.
You enter the Grove through a vast wooden doorway — almost like a church’s lychgate, except there’s a croquet set against the wall, ready for use. I gave them a miss, I was keen to get to my room.
There are 25 bedrooms at the Grove: 13 are in the main building, the rest in cottages and suchlike in the grounds. I was shown to my room, which at first sight appeared to be the same size as one of the meadows outside.
The bed was smothered with soft sheets, silk comforters and cushions.
The bathroom was so big that, quite genuinely, I got lost. Took a wrong turn at the first set of cupboards and found myself heading back to the conservatory — yes, my room came with one.
I eventually found the bath, the walk-in shower, and an array of unguents. This was a bathroom so impressive you could have charged admission to see it.
In the conservatory, teamaking and coffee facilities were available if you wanted to let your inner caravanner free. I didn’t. I just rang for room service and ordered brandy. I didn’t need to — the minibar was stocked with everything you might need.
The Grove dining opportunity is another reason many people head for this part of Pembroke. The emphasis is on Welsh ingredients and vegetables and herbs — where possible from the hotel’s kitchen gardens. The head gardener, head chef and sommelier work in unison.
They really have constructed a temple of gastronomy. The Fernery restaurant serves tasting menus — including pescatarian and vegan — of up to 10 courses. These include the likes of smoked potato in dashi (a Japanese stock) with asparagus, or oysters with cucumber and jalapeño.
A wine flight comes with the meal, and the incredibly knowledgeable sommelier can tells you whether the sauvignon blanc is a late harvest or not, and many other winerelated facts.
OK, far from where we were reared, I know. But listen: this is the cutting edge of gastronomy, and without it us Celtic folk would still be boiling everything in a big pot for four hours.
Breakfasts range from the full Welsh to eggs Benedict. Covid, I believe has dealt the death knell for the breakfast buffet bar. Used to be you could have a huge array of dishes: cornflakes rolled in salmon if you wanted, but those days have gone. But when you can have poached pineapple, passion fruit and mango with coconut chia seed pudding, or smoked haddock omelette with laverbread, parmesan and topped with hollandaise sauce, who needs a buffet?
I know I said that if you were coming from Fishguard you might make a detour to lodge in this place. To be honest, you could make a detour from anywhere and it would be worth it.
It’s not cheap — rooms begin at €209 and rise sharply, but there are deals. They’re worth it. Visit thegrovenarberth.co.uk.