The last time my family, by which I mean my parents, my sister and me, were living in a house together, Tony Blair was prime minister and my most pressing concern was the efficacy of dry shampoo. As time has passed we have picked up family members – two new men, four new children, some light trauma – and it was decided that we should all go away somewhere to celebrate, in part, our survival. “Two weeks?” suggested my mum. “A nice day trip?” I replied. “One week?” she attempted, an entire WhatsApp group littered with debate, “In France?” Finally we agreed on a long weekend, in Portishead.
It isn’t the town of Portishead exactly that lures us up the M4 towards Bristol, instead it is a house. Court House Farm is a Grade II-listed Tudor manor house recently renovated by its new owners, who have added a decorative garden and flower farm and, in an elegant barn, a jazzy little hot tub. It sleeps up to 14 – sometimes they host art retreats, other times they hire the space out for weddings, and the rest of the time they rent it to groups like us, a motley family already bickering over what to have for tea.
