If you have ever ascended the lift that brings you to Sessions Art Club, the restaurant housed in the judges’ dining room of an old courthouse in Clerkenwell, London, then you will feel a strange sense of continuity approaching Boath House. For, though it may be 600 miles and a border away from its London counterpart, there is that same wonderful sense of arrival: a feeling of the outside world and its troubles slipping away, that the next few hours – or days, in this case – are going to be an awful lot of fun indeed.
At Boath House, that arrival entails a sweeping lawn-flanked driveway, the culmination of which is a quietly grand 19th-century Palladian house. Inside, beyond the towering columns, general manager Massimo awaits, handing you his card and telling you to contact him, day or night, whatever you need. He points to the drawing room on the right, where a sound system plays music at the perfect volume and there is a help-yourself drinks cabinet. Condensation trickles down a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. Across the hall there is a smaller library-like room with a bookshelf lined with fine whiskies. Downstairs, Massimo explains, is a listening room with a turntable, TV and enough snacks to see you through a Star Wars marathon twice over. Would we like the Estonian wood sauna lit after dinner?














