I am increasingly convinced that humanity doesn’t deserve dogs. They ask for nothing except food, warmth, and belly rubs; in return, they demonstrate more intuition, love, and loyalty than most of the so-called superior species (I mean, have you read the news lately?).
I grew up with Labradors – not in a Mowgli-from-the-Jungle-Book-meets-Andrex-advert sort of way; it’s just that my 6ft 4 rugby-playing dad was a sucker for puppies. Every pair of slippers in our house was chewed to confetti, but at least we always had an adorable alibi for smelly farts. After leaving home, I cooed over dogs in parks, dreaming of walking my own.
Switching to home-working in 2019 finally made dog ownership possible. Enter Joni, a rescue chihuahua with a rhinoceros-sized personality. Her arrival posed a conundrum: balancing a new family member with my love of travel. I live for adventures, yet I didn’t anticipate how difficult it would be to leave her. For the first time in my life, the best part of a trip abroad is returning home to her excitedly jumping so high that she almost reaches my knees.
Joni stayed with a friend a few months back while I visited California. As I backed out the door, her doleful chocolate peepers brimmed with quiet betrayal as if she KNEW where I was heading. “Do you even know who’s in charge there these days? And you’re leaving me for THAT binfire?” I imagined her saying, guilt gnawing at me all the way to Heathrow.
Her mournful eyes haunted me for the entire trip, and I vowed to take more staycations. I’m not alone; searches for pet-friendly holidays in Wales have surged 55% in the last four years. It seems that for this nation of dog lovers—where one in three households owns one—it really is too hard to say hwyl fawr.
When my friend Justine and I decided to take a mini-break to mark the end of January (AKA the longest month in the history of linear time), our wish list was simple. We wanted to relax somewhere beautiful with our dogs in tow. However, a self-catering break—which displaces chores like shopping and cooking to a different postcode—was off the cards.
We wanted picturesque surroundings, comfortable bedding, someone less knackered on kitchen duty, and plenty of space for Joni and Dougal to run free. Did such a canine Camelot exist? I was sceptical. A few years ago, I booked a hotel in Bath claiming to be dog-friendly, which turned out to be more dog-tolerant; Joni was banished to our room and not permitted in the restaurant. I’m sure she’s still fuming about it.
This time, more due diligence was necessary. Dog-owning readers, you are welcome to the fruits of my research; call it a pup-lic service (sorry). It turns out dog-welcoming luxury nirvana *does* exist in the shape of Palé Hall, a five-star country hotel nestled on the edge of Eryri National Park.
When we arrived at the stunning sandstone house at the end of a sweeping drive, a smartly dressed concierge welcomed us, passing a handful of premium dog treats through the car window while asking for Joni’s name as well as mine. We were off to a good start. Scarred by that Bath experience, I had half expected to be shoved into an attic room, but we were shown to an enormous suite with a private enclosed garden. Fluffy dog beds, silver bowls, and treats were laid before a roaring fire. The human beds were marshmallow-soft, and a cavernous bathroom housed a gigantic claw-footed bath. There were even doggy towels and a dog-sitting service. Bingo. We’d struck gold.
Joni made a beeline for the fire, looking like she’d won the doggy lottery. The concierge informed us we were staying underneath the “Churchill Suite.” I assumed this was a wink to the nodding insurance dog, but no; it turns out the cigar-wielding statesman himself once frequented Palé Hall.Only the best for the Mexican duchess.
Justine and Dougal, an eight-year-old rescue Dalmadoodle, soon joined us. Dougal is just the cutest, a bounding bundle of metronome-tailed enthusiasm, but by Justine’s admission, he isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. His greatest humiliation? A squirrel once chased him.
“He’s very handsome but incredibly dim,” Justine told every staff member who fawned over him. “Like David Beckham,” I helpfully added.
Palé Hall was everything we’d hoped for and more. Joni was invited to join us for a splendid dinner prepared by head chef – and Ramond Blanc protégé – Laurence Jones, who sent dish after dish of exquisite culinary delight. Joni dressed up to the (ca)nines for dinner, donning her finest hot pink fleece. Meanwhile, Dougal preferred to relax in the room; it was his holiday, too.
Unfortunately, his break turned out to be more mini than Joni’s. That night, he persistently growled at thin air before Justine realised his bed was positioned opposite a large mirror, and he was attempting to ward off his own reflection. Also, the canine chemistry was off-kilter, and he and Joni didn’t get on well enough to be trusted in a room together. Enough was enough, and Dougal left the next day, tail firmly between his legs. When Justine’s understanding partner, Lee, arrived to collect him, I swear I saw a sly smile sneak across Joni’s little face.
The next day, little madam indulged in a hearty sausage breakfast and made the most of her freedom to explore the picturesque grounds, free of her shaggy nemesis. The lovely estate manager Nicholas chauffeured us all into Bala and guided us to the best panoramic view of Llyn Tegid. Later, we enjoyed a decadent afternoon tea at the hotel while Joni snoozed beneath the table, her teeny legs worn out from climbing a small hill.
Our 42-hour break (though shorter for poor Dougal) was a joy from start to finish. Everything was flawless, from the luxurious room and stunning surroundings to the exquisite food and exceptional service. We humans left feeling revived and thoroughly pampered. But most impressive? The way our furry friends were treated as the true VIPs (very important pooches).
If Chihuahuas could write Tripadvisor reviews, I’m confident Joni’s would read:
“Doggy heaven. Five tail wags. Would recommend.”
For more information on Palé Hall, visit https://www.palehall.co.uk.
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