Dartington Hall Hotel

Dartington hall hotel is in a stunning location. It was easy to find & there is a brown tourist sign from the main road. Long road in & narrow in places where some people drive too fast so be aware & careful ready to stop quickly. The road in isn’t as narrow though as the Kingston estate nearby. Plenty of parking & free once you hv checked in & left reg number. Dartington hall hotel runs weddings & has a relationship with the Kingston estate for guest overspill numbers. We had a large double room in the west courtyard & other family members in the east courtyard. Our room had a walk in shower which was convenient. Hot water took a while to come through but plenty once it did. Door lock & key was awkward. Hard to get key in & didn’t lock even after turning key. There must be a knack to it but after 3 of us tried we eventually got it locked but not until an annoyed other guest popped angry head out to grumble about it basically taking too long! Key is on a big wooden keyring. The welcome centre doesn’t open before 9am so I noticed some people had missed the key box on the wall outside for people checking out & they’d left their keys on the doorstep instead. Checking in is a short time window & we had to arrange other people to collect each others keys on arrival. It’s not possible to phone hotel & get an answer. Can leave a message or email & hotel will then respond. Quite difficult if after hours & help needed. Our room had a mini fridge but was empty. Would be good to hv bottled water for overnight when nothing available. There was a local Morrisons short drive away that was open to 11pm so we went there for supplies. Staircases & corridors bit fusty but I noticed an odd air freshener attempt here & there. It’s an old property so to be expected I guess. Ground floor rooms appear to be for families rather than any available for disabled. My cousin was just about able to walk upstairs with sticks but hopefully anyone in a wheelchair could get a ground floor room as no lift due to listed status. The white hart did hotel breakfast buffet from 9am over the weekend & we also went to green table for a 9 am breakfast which was very nice. Hotel has extensive grounds & our favourite was the Japanese meditation garden near the bagle cafe was very peaceful to sit there. Would be a stunning backdrop to a wedding & imho easier to drive to than their neighbour Kingston estate.

Wonderful old hall, with lots to see. The gardens are grade II listed, and beautiful, with secret paths, grass steps, sculptures (including Henry Moore), and lovely spring flowers amongst mature trees and shrubs. Well worth a visit. Dogs are not permitted in the gardens, but on the Dartington Estate there are many wide open spaces to explore.

If you want to step into the worst aspects of 18th-century Dickensian England, come to Dartington Hall and enjoy its dated and neglected dwellings. Set in the heart of Devon’s pristine countryside, you’ll no doubt feel charmed by its dark and dreary bedrooms that clearly haven’t been updated for at least a century. The bedrooms are scarcely bigger than prison cells, and the amenities—if one can even call them that—are nonexistent. No telephone, no fridge, no thought given to even the most basic creature comforts. Instead, you’re treated to a mismatched jumble of furniture that looks as though it has been pilfered from junk shops and house clearances over the decades. Chairs are not just stained but scarred with cigarette burns, and the whole place wears the unmistakable air of long-term neglect. Cleanliness appears to be an abstract concept here. Radiator grills are furred with years of dust, bathroom extractor fans are clogged with filth thick enough to qualify as insulation, and the bed coverings are little more than moth-eaten woollen relics. Even the window latch was broken in my ground-floor room, meaning the window could not be closed at all—hardly reassuring for anyone concerned about security. Staffing was laughable, though “tragic” may be the more accurate word. The assistant manager in the bar was simultaneously acting as porter, concierge, receptionist, and waiter—a one-man farce worthy of Carry On Abroad. When I asked to speak to a manager, I left my number with reception and, predictably, was never contacted. Breakfast the next morning was a study in indignity. Cold scrambled eggs, a meagre splash of coffee with barely enough milk to lighten it, and a menu so stingy in scope it bordered on parody. There were so few staff on duty that the bride’s mother—yes, a paying guest—took it upon herself to clear tables in order to spare everyone further embarrassment. And then came the final insult: a bill priced for a 5-star establishment, when in reality this was a zero-star ordeal. Dartington Hall is not merely disappointing; it is a dereliction of hospitality, a masterclass in how to take one of the most beautiful settings in England and reduce it to a grotesque parody of comfort.