Marton Hotel & Country Club

Although the staff appear to be hiding some terrible secret (and walking into the breakfast room in the morning I felt about as welcome as Camilla at Diana's memorial) this place is so weird that actually I want to go back.

Unique Quality: More reminiscent of an open prison than a country club (I got the feeling that there is a bail hostel in a former soviet republic short of a few regulars) the staff are maybe rightly suspicious of anyone who wants to stay here.

The dimly lit bedrooms (bath but no shower) are reminiscent of the Second World War although someone does appear to have called-in during the 70s to decorate the downstairs and set the menu.

The place appears to have been built around some of the staff who, like several of the residents had walked straight in from an Ealing Comedy. I’m pretty sure that the gentleman with the Daily Telegraph on the next table to us at breakfast was quite dead and it wouldn’t have surprise me at all if the waitresses had murdered him.

Directions: On the A172 (Stokesley Road) just off the A174