Why book

For that golden intersection of gripping design and home-grown, regenerative ideology, Fowlescombe Farm is remarkably quick to reach by train, despite its bona fide rural location on the fringes of Dartmoor. Nearly every morsel of food here is grown on-site with radical “land-to-larder ethics,” whipped up into unfussy, elevated plates and served in easy-going fashion. It’s the greedy aesthete’s ultimate weekender, blissfully free of any chain or Soho Farmhouse trace.

Set the scene

Coalescing around a creamy Victorian farmhouse (the symmetrical sort a child could draw), Folwescombe Farm is a cluster of renovated barns wrapped in wild, wispy meadows and cattle-grazed countryside. Rather than embracing the overcooked rural-rustic look, replete with the token crittal and weathered wooden slats, co-owner Paul Glade has flexed his architectural muscle in collaboration with Harry Gugger of Studio Gugger in Basel, to angle for something refreshingly unique. Swiss minimalism (chalky stone walls, earthy curtains, blonde woods) fleshes out the wonky bones of old Devonian barns, accentuating both their character and the surrounding bucolic views.

Guests hunker down for board games and orchard martinis in the three-suite farmhouse, which can be rented out in full on occasion. Sheepskin chairs (from their own flock of rare Manx Loaghtan sheep), gnarled wooden milking stools, cozy terracotta sofas, and woven rugs warm the Swiss functionalism and just-so choreography. And despite the whitewashed canvas and angular Swiss lighting, the prevailing sense is not overly precious—this is kick-off-rainboots-and-curl-up territory. Such is the genius of the architects, complemented by the deft curation of Bristol-based curators, Art & People, and the relaxed attitude of the team.

A map room sits just opposite the Old Farmhouse (somewhere quiet to scoff your mid-morning brownie from while scanning the weekend papers), and, via flowerbeds sprouting unruly, sky-high flowers and grasses. The Nordic-inclined, open-kitchen Refectory hosts breakfast, lunch, and supper.

The backstory

Having met at Cambridge, Caitlin Owens and Paul Glade combined their sharp hotelier and architectural minds to draw up plans for a regenerative organic farm in the Devon countryside. This came after several years of hospitality mileage for Caitlin (with roles featuring the Four Seasons and Relais & Châteaux’s Hotel Schönegg in Zermatt) as well as managing The Millbrook Inn, a tidal pub also owned by her family, not far from Salcombe, and a background in design and architecture for Swiss-raised Paul. A lockdown spent out of London and immersed in the life of the farm set the Fowlescombe wheels in motion, and having assumed a Creative Director role, Paul worked with Basel’s Studio Gugger and Ryan Cook of London-based studio Channel to help realize his vision, in addition to assembling a gold-standard team. Their mission to curate a distinctive, shoulder-lowering escape that turns traditional notions of luxury on its head has been pulled off with aplomb, where bespoke concierge service (greenhouse yoga, farm tours, plucking veg patch bounty with the chefs, Salcombe jaunts, you name it) complements the cool-but-cozy design notes and farm-to-fork ethos.

The rooms

Buttery, oat-y, earthy shades of linens, sheepskin, and woven tapestries seize on a pastoral theme—sent through the soft, pleasing prism of Swiss restraint. There’s little gingham cottage-core or hefty country heritage about it. Rooms are cozy without feeling cluttered, and the flagstone floors and oak minimalism are softened in clever ways: a woven rug flung across enormous beds (featuring local Naturalmat mattresses stuffed with wool from their own Manx Laughtan flock) or an angular fireplace to warm walkers’ toes from woolly armchairs. Textured paper, rhythmic canvases, and woolen weaves subtly adorn the walls without detracting from the meadow and orchard views or the architectural presence. Because, really, every suite you patter into—whether it’s in the Home Barn, the Tall Barn, or the main farmhouse—is exquisitely choreographed and thought-through in terms of how one hotels. Minimalist kitchenettes, and, in some cases, fully-fledged kitchens are a Godsend for those evenings when you’d rather have a private supper, with elevated bung-in-the-oven options from the refectory. Fridges and blonde-wooded worktops are well-stocked with English sparkling wine to chase down smoked almonds, while jars brimming with home-made clotted cream fudge accompany a variety of fancy teas (no need to call someone for the luxury). Small-but-mighty details—the contemporary lanterns to hang like bracelets over wrists for ambles in the dark, the sparkling filtered water, the Pelegrims grapeskin toiletries—all tickle the boutique hotel lover. In cooler months, log burners keep board games toasty, and, come spring, rooms spill out onto shaved patches of grass for sun loungers, surrounded by waist-high wildflowers and generally wrapped in the whiffs and wondrous sounds of the English countryside.

Food and drink

The incalculable joy of scoffing delicious, nourishing grub that’s “grown and raised just a few steps away” underpins Fowlescombe’s rhythms, activities, and, above all, its kitchens. Helmed by Executive Chef Elly Wentworth (a one-to-watch having shimmied over from stalwart restaurant, the Angel in Dartmouth), Fowlescombe’s kitchen disregards old-world hotel dining with its stiff formalities, along with the frothy alchemy of the Michelin set. It focuses instead on tuning into the flavors and distinct textures of organic, farm-reared meat and home-grown vegetables and elevating them: the basics done exceptionally well. Menus shift with each meal—a refreshing cucumber gazpacho with fennel and treacle bloomer, roasted pork belly with richly-flavored carrot and spinach, a light and lavishly zingy kefir lime tart with basil. Each dish has its kooky provenance story, typical of the West Country. “This chap is the only free-diver for scallops… caught in a single breath,” (doused in grapefruit dressing to preserve the fresh thwack and washed down with a well-chosen crisp white; “ah those pigs, they roam through the woods scoffing acorns, and have less fat, more flavor,” (slow-cooked to rich, gooey perfection). The space itself has a Scandinavian feel, with suspended lamps, Nordic chairs, and an open kitchen that feels intimate, not overly theatrical. Guests can tuck into plates of deftly-cooked vegetables they’ve plucked from the gardens a few hours before with Elly, whose excitement for the potential of a tomato plant or ripe beetroot is infectious. Breakfast is just as wildly seasonal and fresh—creamy, proper yogurt with home-baked granola, juices concocted from the various fruits and herbs, the usual free-range eggy, bready suspects done remarkably well. The coffee outperforms anything guzzled in West London, even the decaf. And all of this can be enjoyed on your terrace…as a meadow picnic… as a courtyard barbecue. It’s this dine-where-you-like disposition that really sets the hotel apart.

Wellness

If spanking fresh air, nourishing home-made food grown in healthy soil and long country walks rounded off with local cakes and tea (or an al-meadow gin and tonic) sounds like your idea of wellness, you’ve dropped your cases at the right place. The local, hand-made Naturalmat mattresses, blackout blinds, and crickets will see to those 10-hour kips, while pre-booked yoga sessions overlooking the rolling Devonian countryside, bread-baking, flower snipping, and botanical foraging for cocktail sessions will keep things deliciously slow and pastoral.

The neighborhood

Fowlescombe’s wild, feral neighbor, Dartmouth, is a siren call to outdoorsy types game for stargazing or mythology walks on the moors (arranged at an extra cost), while the hotel can also arrange kayaking and coastal foraging at nearby Salcombe—with the obligatory visit to Fowlescombe’s sister pub, The Millbrook Inn—a tidal boozer with a cracking Sunday roast, near which kayaks and motorboats moor, having chugged along the creaks that, on a clear sunny day, could pass as the Caribbean.

Eco effort

The antithesis of the token eco-effort, Fowlescombe is a blueprint for how to sustainably work acres of farmland around a hotel and fuel its kitchen from its home-grown produce. The Capability Brown, or general old school landscaping, has been ditched in favor of wildflower meadows teaming with butterflies, while impressive regenerative programs encompass everything from the soil (plowed and grazed at a slower, more manageable level) to the bees (thriving across 16 hives and visibly going about their pollinating business in the meadows wrapping the barns and farmhouse. Solar power is now in full swing, with 100% power projected for 2026. Farm Manager, Rosie Ball, took on Fowlescombe as an organic farm in 2019, raising native and rare British breeds (Tamworth pigs, Longhorn and Beef Shorthorn cattle, Manx Loaghtan sheep) with a high-welfare, low-intervention approach and integrating them into the broader eco-system of the farm, ensuring the overall quality of the soil.

Accessibility

With its courtyard stones, uneven farmland, and distinct lack of tarmac, Fowlescombe Farm lacks the basic terrain and easy access for wheelchair users.

Family-friendly

With babysitters available upon request, flocks of sheep to be inspected, and eggs to be collected from the chicken coup, little people (especially the sooty, city rats), will be in rural rapture. Such levels of joy may not be shared by parents desperately keeping sticky hands away from the minimalist, Swiss design and white-washed canvas rooms—perhaps a stay for the eight and older lot, who’ll enquire about the Manx Loaghtan breeds, and not the location of the clotted fudge jar, on repeat.