by The wind howled down Holt Street, Langham’s main street, whipping the leaves into autumn tornadoes. Above, two geese seeking warmer climes struggled to stay on course, but at ground level there was not a soul in sight. It was Friday afternoon and to my left and right, away from the road, some houses (but not all) began to light lamps and light fires. I knew this small North Norfolk town would be quiet, but I wasn’t expecting silence.
One mile from the North Sea coast, Langham is just behind the front line of Norfolk’s famous coastal destinations (Brancaster, Wells-next-the-Sea, Blakeney) and as such is relatively little known. But, like some of its county counterparts in recent years (Burnham Market – or according to its new, derogatory nickname, Chelsea-on-Sea – is just 20 minutes to the west), its population is increasing and this parish of No more than 400 inhabitants Residents have the title of one of England’s most fashionable getaways in their tea leaves.
This is partly due to the growing appeal of Norfolk’s centuries-old charm, but mostly thanks to a new hotel, the Harper. Named one of the “50 Best Boutique Hotels” the day before my arrival, the Harper is the brainchild of hotelier Sam Cutmore-Scott, best known in the tabloids as the husband of Chelsy Davy, Prince Harry’s college sweetheart.
Opened in spring 2021, delayed by the pandemic-mandated year, the Harper has quickly established itself as a must-visit for London’s wealthy and stylish; In my research, Soho House’s offering was a regular bedfellow.
But what piqued my interest was not the apparent success of the hotel, but the fact that this year Cutmore-Scott bought not just one local pub, but two. The Harper Collection now includes the Langham Blue Bell, as well as the Morston Anchor, in the neighboring village.
Even for a stretch of British coast increasingly under an onslaught of boujificationa boutique hotel taking care of two town drunks seemed bold.
“It’s important to us, important to our guests and important to local communities to have these places where they can gather,” Cutmore-Scott explained. He said buying the pubs was not part of the business plan, but after the owners of the Blue Bell signaled they were ready to give up, intimidated by Covid, Cutmore-Scott saw an opportunity.
“They’re not going to be a game-changer when it comes to results, but our guests always want to know where they should go for a pint and it was getting to the point where we really had nowhere to tell them.”
The Blue Bell, a charming low-ceilinged pub with a fireplace, opposite the town sign, offers traditional beer but higher quality food on a set menu not unlike that offered at the hotel. The Morston Anchor, on the other hand, focuses on a coastal fish and chips delicacy, but elegant, of course. Both have been freshly licked in a dark navy blue that links them to their parent establishment.
It was at the Blue Bell where I fought the wind. Inside, two workers had finished early, but otherwise everything was as quiet as on the main street. I ventured back later for dinner, which was exceptional (I had a spicy venison carpaccio followed by the day’s Brancaster catch, a sizable salmon fillet topped with a chorizo crust), but it wasn’t any busier. The waitress expressed her surprise, especially since she understood that Harper’s was full. “Normally there are more people on Fridays and Saturdays.” Do the locals come for a pint? I asked. “They do.”
Of course, this gets to the heart of the matter. There are battles underway up and down the country in rural zip codes watching the sun set over old industries, a dying way of life: communities diluted by absentee second home owners, rising home prices freezing out younger generations, once bustling towns stripped of parts for the summer hordes.
For Harper’s part, although the Parish Council opposed the planning application submitted in 2019 for the change of use (converting the traditional brick and flint barns housing a glass factory into today’s hotel), citing the impact on “sustainability and cohesion of the local community,” Cutmore-Scott says relations with the village as a whole have improved since opening. In fact, former parish council president Paul Godfrey was reported to have met the couple over coffee to discuss parking issues at the hotel.
“North Norfolk is not a place that naturally embraces change,” he said. “But if you try hard, you behave well, you try to ignore the frustrations… I think it’s a matter of time passing. “Both towns are happy to have the pubs open, it may not be the precise way or the offer they would have made themselves.”
This is a sentiment echoed by Jonny Miller, managing director of Langham Glass, the company that occupied the Harper site before it outgrew its premises and moved to Fakenham.
“It was not practical to stay there. The infrastructure could not support us all year round,” he stated. “Our visiting coaches would get stuck on the roads in winter, so we had to earn enough in summer to survive until the next tourist season.
“Believe [what the Harper is doing] It’s brilliant for the people. “There will always be locals who resist change (they were the same arguments when we opened in Langham in 1979), but what is the alternative?”
Norfolk is an agricultural county. It remains so today, as evidenced by the patchwork of fields surrounding Langham. You don’t need a degree in economics to understand that modern agriculture doesn’t support local economies like it used to, so a new business is needed.
Despite arguments about what places like Langham should be, The Harper is an excellent hotel, elegant enough for the city type but with a gentle rusticity. The staff is attentive, friendly and genuinely concerned about your experience. The spaciousness of the hotel’s restaurant, bar, dresser and lounge guarantee comprehensive relaxation and details such as a Complementary The minibar and homemade cookies in the room upon arrival make all the difference.
The food at Stanley’s, their restaurant, like at the Blue Bell, far exceeded expectations and was as good as anything I’ve had at any hotel (a starter of “crispy lamb” had some Willy Wonka charm, a world in textures, while the cote de bouef as a main course (although it didn’t need the accompanying Eve’s Hill leaves) was wonderfully cooked). The spa and pool area is small, but guests book exclusive half-hour slots (a pandemic hangover), so its size is mitigated and there’s something luxurious about having the pool and hot tub to yourself.
All of the above is only available to guests (it is described as residents only), a measure intended to reduce traffic around Harper and Langham, but Jules Keirle, manager of the hotel, says testing to open Stanley’s to locals has been slow but stable progress.
This will be the next challenge as Harper expands into its vacant neighbor, Langham Hall, an 8,000-square-foot Grade II-listed property it bought this year that will double the hotel’s size and add treatment rooms, more beds and a spacious lawn. with an as yet undetermined function.
Keirle says that once operational, these types of facilities would lend themselves to a membership offer, opening the door to further integration of the villages, but this is unconfirmed and is a few years away.
What is clear is that Harper is here to stay; It remains to be seen what will become of Langham.
