Brighton revisited

Bev Fearis returns to one of her old Brighton haunts and finds it’s lost none of its charm….

I can remember when the Hotel du Vin Brighton opened, back in 2003. I was living in Brighton at that time and it was the city’s first boutique hotel. We couldn’t wait to check out its sumptuous bar and test out its extensive wine list. Although it didn’t become a regular haunt (not at those prices!), it was definitely the venue of choice for more special occasions and I celebrated several friends’ 30th birthdays, then a few 40ths, propping up the bar with a glass of bubbly.

It’s more than10 years since the hotel opened and, like most tourist hotspots across Europe, Brighton is now teaming with boutique hotels of all shapes and sizes, but I’m pleased to report that the Hotel du Vin is still going strong.

On a side street off the seafront in Brighton’s buzzy shopping district, the Lanes, the hotel was built in 1934, not as a hotel but for Henekey’s wine merchants. It’s a cluster of higgledy piggledy, neo-Gothic buildings and makes you feel like you’re staying in a rambling old country home rather than a hotel. Finding the way to our room was interesting, especially after our wine-fuelled dinner. From the cosy little lobby, we went up the stairs, along narrow corridors, through doors, down some stairs, around the corner, and finally we arrived.

Like the building itself, the rooms feel homely. Ours was a particularly homely loft-style room, so I felt I was staying in the spare room at a posh friend’s house. Each room has its own individual style, but all of them feature luxurious handsprung mattresses, Egyptian linen, drench showers, plasma TVs, ipod docking station, and under floor heating, plus nice little touches like having a bottle of fresh milk in the fridge rather than the usual miniature cartons of UHT. There was also a nespresso coffee-making machine and an elegant leather box will filled with coffees of all kinds – arpeggio, livanto, fortissio lungo and decaffeinato intenso. I’m not a coffee drinker, but I could tell they were good.

Then there was the bathroom, a large space dominated by the signature du Vin roll top bath. I could have spent all evening luxuriating in there, but we had a table booked at the restaurant, so I dragged myself away from the delicious toiletries and headed out into the maze of corridors again.

We joined the Friday after work crowd in the bar, dimly lit bar for a pre-dinner glass of bubbles, sinking into the plush leather seats.

Our meal was superb. We both went for the fish and our wine sommelier, from Poland, chose us a fabulous Australian Chardonnay. I wish I’d made a note of the name. In fact, I asked at reception the next day and they tried their best to find out, but sadly nobody could remember. Service was attentive but relaxed. The restaurant was full and there was a buzzy atmosphere.

We popped next door to meet some friends at the Pub du Vin, which was disappointingly dead, especially for a Friday night – just our little posse in the corner and the bar staff – so we headed into the Lanes and checked out a few other old drinking haunts, until kick out time.

We slept like logs in our oversized bed but made sure we’d set the alarm for breakfast – what a treat. The homemade muesli was packed with yummy healthy things and was perhaps the best I’ve ever tasted, and the banana bread wasn’t bad either. The ice cold freshly squeezed orange juice helped sort out my hangover and my other half reckoned the eggs Benedict sorted out his. Rested, fed and watered, we were ready to venture into the city to join the crowds of Saturday shoppers.