The view from the terrace is magical, a clean sweep across the bay to St Ives. You breakfast here in good weather in the shade of a Monterey pine, as if transported back to the French Riviera circa 1950. As for the hotel, it’s an unadulterated treat, mostly due to Malcolm, whose limitless generosity is stamped over every square inch. Few hotels close for four months to redecorate every winter, but that’s the way things are done here – this may explain why so many guests book for the following year when checking out. The house shines in ivory white with the occasional dash of colour from carpets and curtains. A wall of glass in the bar weatherproofs the view. Big rooms are gorgeous, two with balconies, one with a terrace, all with sparkling bathrooms. Light suppers are on hand, though a short stroll into town leads to dozens of restaurants; Alfresco on the harbour is excellent and torches are provided for the journey back. Penzance, Zennor, Tate St Ives and a host of beaches are all close. There’s folk and jazz for the September festival, a great time to visit. A true one-off.