Tag Archives: luxury

Cotswold Glamour Weekend

It’s pretty griek outside, so I’m reminiscing again about summer delights. And here’s one from a while ago. A stolen weekend with Mrs P at Barnsley House, which because we’re in Britain, is nowhere near Barnsley…

Barnsley House (in the Cotswolds)

Barnsley House (in the Cotswolds)

This is a great place to hide away and get pampered. No wonder Mrs P loved it. I think she managed several massages and a hydrotherapy treatment in the space of a long weekend. Gave me time to investigate the surroundings before the dinner gong…

Hidden statues in the garden

Hidden statues in the garden

And a twin...

And a twin…

Cotswold stone, manicured gardens and ivy hugging old style nostalgia. My favourite spot was the gazebo. Great place to spread out the Sunday paper and check out the gossip. This was whilst the second massage of the weekend was taking place elsewhere. Each to her own.

Shade, dragonflies, and English Breakfast tea.

Shade, dragonflies, and English Breakfast tea.

I know this was some time ago, because all my photos of Barnsley House are square. Which means it was when I was still shooting the clunky beast of a Bronica SQA on 120 film. I loved the camera, loved the summer and loved the weekend away. And especially when Mrs P resurfaced. Time to share the tea…

A relaxing spot.

A relaxing spot.

Hands off my Ferrari!

Where’s this? Can you guess?

It’s a bit blowy…

Clue: it’s in the Med.

OK. So this is not an area known for its storms. Quite the opposite. The usual image is for slick, suave, mega-rich, luxury. Yes, this is Cannes on the Côte D’Azur. Not quite as azure as we would have hoped, but not bad on the luxury. I leave that to the ladies in the family…

If you can’t pose here, then where…?

A magnet for the ladies…

these girls start young!

(She takes after her mother…)

Even Charles can be seduced. This, he says, is the car he will buy when he starts playing for Chelsea (…)


But you know what, this isn’t really what the Mediterranean coast is about, for me at least. Get 10 miles in land and it all changes. The villages are quaint and delightful. The countryside is beautiful, all that bling seems miles away. Here’s what the back country around Cannes looks like.

The gorgeous coast at Cap Ferrat

The Rothschilds know a good spot when they see it, Here’s their villa.

Jimmy Choos forgotten, replaced by roses

the villa mixes the sacred…

… and the profane

Ultimately, all roads lead down to the coast. And back to the flim flam of the Côte d’Azur. Ah well,…. when in Rome….

La Croisette!