Right, so my partner and I had a massive row about where to go for our anniversary. She wanted somewhere “romantic,” and I kept suggesting Centre Parcs. Not my finest hour.
After sleeping on the sofa for two nights, I got serious about finding proper romantic spots in Britain. Turns out we’ve got some absolute gems right on our doorstep.
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Used to be, everyone buggered off to Paris or Rome for romance. But have you seen flight prices lately? Mental. Plus, there’s something quite nice about not dealing with foreign money and dodgy hotel WiFi.
British romantic breaks have their own charm. Cosy pubs with log fires. The countryside looks like a bloody postcard. And you can actually understand what people are saying when you ask for directions.
Went to a place called Chipping Campden last month. Honestly thought we’d driven into a film set. Stone cottages everywhere, flowers hanging from every window. Felt like we were in a period drama.
Stayed at this little B&B run by Margaret, who must be about 70 but has more energy than me after three coffees. She made us breakfast that looked too good to eat. Proper full English with eggs from her own chickens.
The missus went mental for the antique shops. I went mental for the pub lunches. Win-win.
Cost us about £150 for two nights, including breakfast. Try getting that in Paris.
Always thought the Lake District was just for people who wear fleeces and eat energy bars. Wrong again.
Found this place near Windermere that does couples’ spa treatments. Sounds poncy, but it was actually brilliant. Hot tub overlooking the lake, massage therapists who knew what they were doing, and afternoon tea that didn’t come from Tesco.
The weather was typically British; it rained on and off all weekend. But that just meant more time indoors doing couple-y things. Like arguing about what to watch on Netflix.
Walking around the lakes is dead romantic if you’re into that sort of thing. We hired a little boat and spent an hour going in circles because neither of us knew how to steer properly. Laughed more than we had in months.
Cornwall in winter is nothing like Cornwall in summer. No lines, no screaming kids, just you and the most dramatic coastline in Britain. Stayed in this former artist bloke’s cottage near St Ives. Huge windows that look out to the sea, a wood-burning stove, and a kitchen big enough to actually cook meals in.
Sat for hours staring at waves crashing on rocks. By the sound of it, this is really boring, but it’s dead therapeutic. Like meditation, but with better views.
The local pub did this thing where they served dinner by candlelight every Friday. Felt like we were the only people in the world. Until the local rugby team turned up at half ten singing drinking songs.
My partner’s got this thing about castles. Don’t ask me why. So we went to this place in the Scottish Highlands that had been turned into a hotel.
Proper castle, complete with battlements and everything. The room had a four-poster bed and windows you could defend against Vikings from. Breakfast was served in what used to be the great hall.
The whole area looked like something from Game of Thrones, but with better central heating. Mountains everywhere, lochs that went on forever, and not a single McDonald’s in sight.
The only downside was the drive. Six hours from London, and my sat-nav kept trying to send us through sheep fields. But it’s worth it when you wake up feeling like bloody royalty.
Bath’s got this Georgian architecture that makes you feel dead sophisticated just walking around. Like you should be wearing a top hat and discussing the weather in posh accents.
The Roman Baths are mental when you think about it. People were having spa days there 2,000 years ago. Makes you feel connected to history or whatever.
Stayed in this hotel right in the city centre. Not cheap, but the service was ridiculous. They remembered our names, brought us tea without asking, and somehow made the bed so perfectly it looked like nobody had ever slept in it.
The food scene’s proper good too. Found this restaurant that did modern British cooking but without the pretentious nonsense. Just really good ingredients cooked by people who knew what they were doing.
Romantic getaways in the UK for couples in 2025 don’t get much better than the Peak District, in my opinion. It’s got everything: proper countryside, decent pubs, and places to stay that don’t cost a mortgage payment.
Found this converted barn near Chatsworth House. Stone walls, exposed beams, and a hot tub in the garden. It felt like we were staying at someone’s super fancy house, only with no small talk with their relatives.
The house and gardens at Chatsworth are worth visiting in their own right if you’re a fan of a grand estate. The gardens are huge and dead romantic if you walk around holding hands, imagining you’re landed gentry (or is that just me?).
Britain’s actually dead romantic once you stop expecting it to be like the films. It’s not going to be 30 degrees and sunny. You’re not going to have breakfast on a terrace overlooking the Mediterranean.
But you might have the best weekend you’ve had in ages. Walking through villages that look like they haven’t changed in 200 years. Eating food that someone’s gran would be proud of. Sleeping in beds that don’t smell like industrial bleach.
And at the end of it, you’ll have stories to tell and photos that don’t look like everyone else’s. Because how many people have romantic weekend shots featuring sheep and stone walls?
Turns out the most romantic thing about British getaways is remembering why you fell for each other in the first place. Even if it takes a weekend in the rain to figure it out.
My partner’s already planning our next trip. Somewhere called the Yorkshire Dales. I’m not complaining. At least I won’t be sleeping on the sofa.
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