A Guide for Editors: Hartwell House

      "There’s no place like home," exclaimed Dorothy, yearning to escape the chaos of Oz and return to the elusive idea of home. Ephemeral, as Dorothy understood, because home signifies more than just a physical structure, even a whimsical one. Home encompasses a feeling, an emotion, and even a person. For me, home has always revolved around the items and interiors nestled within my walls, particularly those connected to my family, both current and departed. The intergenerational guardianship of family heirlooms provides me with immense grounding and solace. Their enduring nature offers reassurance in a world that often seems to be racing by too quickly. That's why, as I settled into an armchair at Hartwell House Hotel & Spa, I found myself in agreement with Dorothy; there truly is no place like home.

      Let me clarify. Hartwell is not my home, and I recognize that I do not reside in a hotel. I am not Richard Harris or London Tipton. However, my grandmother, Tatiana, once lived at Hartwell before it transformed into a hotel. (Her parents, my great-grandparents, sold the house in 1938.) Many of the cherished items from my own home originate directly from Hartwell, so I haven’t been entirely misguided in feeling a deep connection to a place I grew up hearing so much about, and which, had circumstances been different, I might have one day called my own. I had wanted to visit for years, so when I finally found time after a particularly tumultuous and stressful month, I packed my bags with a big smile and a well of excitement built over a lifetime.

      The charm of the “English Country House” has always captivated me. What is it about these historic properties that enchants the countless visitors who flock to them each year? Is it the result of countless Hollywood adaptations like Downton Abbey, Bridgerton, or even this year’s Wuthering Heights? We watch characters leisurely navigate these stunning locales, free from worries other than what time to enjoy tea or whether a dashing lord might pay a visit. There’s a leisurely pace of life associated with these portrayals of homes that many of us, with our constantly overstimulated minds, yearn for. Upon my arrival at Hartwell, after just an hour's drive from West London to Buckinghamshire, I was greeted by a stately swan on the lawn. It was then I realized the true purpose of my visit. I needed a weekend to be like that bird and simply glide, a respite Hartwell beautifully provided.

      Following a seamless check-in, we were led to our room. Named the King’s Room, it honored Louis XVIII of France, who took refuge at Hartwell after fleeing the French Revolution. As I settled into yet another luxurious armchair, I felt that he and I were both searching for the same solace at Hartwell—to keep our composure. Although, I’ll admit, in my case it was more symbolic. From there, we embarked on our demanding agenda of walking, afternoon tea, spa treatments, drinks, and dinner. The order of these challenging endeavors caused the only spike in cortisol I experienced that afternoon.

      There’s a certain luxury in not having to overthink, and Hartwell perfectly creates that environment. I often find that a significant portion of my trips is spent contemplating where to go, what to see, and where to dine, while constantly comparing our experiences to others. Are we dining in the best spot? Did we order the right dishes? Did we see and do enough, have a good time? All too often, I return from a weekend away only to realize I spent the entirety of it making decisions, then second-guessing them. Hartwell alleviates that burden. Afternoon tea is served in the morning room, evening drinks in the drawing room and/or library, and dinner is held in the dining room. The decision of where to go is already made for you, and in a world where we can be overwhelmed by choices, there is a true luxury in having that decision-making taken out of your hands. The afternoon tea is exceptional. (The scones were perhaps the best I’ve ever tasted!) But what I adored most was the early evening atmosphere. As you and your fellow guests, dressed for dinner, wait for your table in the dining room—painted in various shades of heavenly yellow—you can choose to sit anywhere among the impressive drawing rooms, still arranged as they were in my great-grandparents' time. This informal seating lends itself to a feeling where, without stretching your imagination too far, you can sip your beverage and feel like the lord or lady of this magnificent estate!

      The rooms are thoughtfully decorated with artworks and antiques original to the house, while the bedrooms exude comfort and possess all the amenities one could wish for in a hotel room. In fact, many guests request that modern conveniences, like TVs, be removed prior to arrival. On