Water gushing all over Prince Charles’ head is about the least interesting story about Broughton Sanctuary, a highly eccentric wellness destination in Yorkshire
Surely we’re in the wrong place? We had been dropped off in darkness and were surrounded only by fields, but in the distance was the amber glow of the doorway of a huge old country pile. The entrance was open so sod it, we thought, and walked into a hallway bedecked with period oil paintings. Once this must have been the medieval jousting hall of a formidable nobleman. We twirled around to take it all in, then thought we should probably leave. Then a man with rockstar looks and a funky dad shirt walked in from stage left. “Is there no- one to help you?!” he said. “Where is everyone? Welcome!”
On the grounds of the historic Broughton Hall, Broughton Sanctuary is surely Britain’s most eccentric place for a staycation. Granted, we’d arrived after hours, but turn up anytime and the experience is pretty similar to arriving at someone’s personal house: because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Roger Tempest – yes, the rock star man who greeted me – and his family are the 32nd seat of the Tempest family, dating back to the 11th century. He grew up with the likes of Prince Charles turning up for tea; ask for the corker of a story about the roof falling down during the future King’s visit.
It feels properly wild, akin to something in the Highlands, but with half the journey time from London.
Set amidst acres of Tempest’s land used for rewilding are a number of holiday cottages hireable for one week for the cost of a night in a spenny London hotel, a futuristic spa, and some of the barmiest pieces of mindfulness kit you’ll find this side of a Goop Away Day. We walk across a ragged heath to encounter empty bathtubs impregnated into the landscape. My friend starts properly laughing; two days into our trip this is exactly the kind of bonkers brilliance you no longer find surprising about life at Broughton. “They’re for moon bathing,” we’re told by a naturalist who’s showing us around. Of course they are.
The mindfulness activities within the Avalon Centre at Broughton Sanctuary
In the spa, the old clashes with the new: one room designed to emulate a place of worship painted in spectacular white has the feeling of a church on a Greek island. In the middle a formidable looking snazzy white device does something clever with pressure while you sit in it like a spaceman. There’s a pool that has the lowest possible amount of chemicals in it so as to remain publically swimmable but in-keeping with Tempest’s vision of everything being as natural as humanly possible. Academics from as far away as Boston smile at us as there’s a science event on asking: “What are the conditions under which we experience time in a non-linear way?” There’s a list of in-person speakers, then people “present in other ways”.
You can dip into stargazing, yoga, forest bathing and cold water swimming (of course!) but you can also forget all that and go beaver spotting, as all manner of wildlife has returned to the grounds now that Tempest has planted richer biodiverse plantlife. It feels properly wild, akin to something in the Highlands, but with half the journey time from London.
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You feel a bit like you’ve wandered into a cult, but not the murderous type. Granted, Tempest mentions his anti-vax views in just about every other sentence, but says he wants the retreat to remain a space for free speech and ideas sharing. You believe him. Endless bookshelves don’t tout any conspiracist rhetoric that I can see. But how does he keep his beliefs from influencing his impressively diverse rosta of talks and events? “With difficulty,” he laughs. Fair enough.
But when I think back to our meeting when he welcomed me into the house he grew up in and realise that, like with old friends with whom you respect but disagree with, it’s hard to dislike Tempest, and even harder not to admire the eccentric but brilliant community he’s fostering in a field in the north.
VISIT BROUGHTON SANCTUARY YOURSELF
Go to broughtonsanctuary.co.uk or call 01756799608 to book. LNER trains go from King’s Cross to Leeds then you change for a local stopping service to Skipton
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