The Plough looked promising enough, a handsome Elizabethan manor in a Cotswold
village with an exuberant wistaria growing across the front. But there was a
tatty suitcase on the drive, clearly lacking its owner. With my terrorism
radar in overdrive, I mentioned the suitcase to the young man at reception,
who said: “Yeah, we put that out for the dustman.”
On the staircase up to our rooms was a glass light full of dead flies —
hundreds of them — and when we got to our bedrooms the young man told us
that there was no water in the bathrooms, “but they’re trying to fix it”.
The water came back on 45 minutes later, but with hot water from all the
taps. The bedrooms were large and pleasant, with nice marquetry furniture
and big comfy beds. The bathrooms were immaculate, with fluffy robes, but
the bottles of shampoo were thimble-sized and when I asked for more, the
young man turned up with one more thimble. Plus, neither of our TVs worked.
Eventually mine was fixed with a Digibox, but not my friend’s.
The Plough is famous for its restaurant and this did not disappoint. We each
had an insalata tricolore (large and delicious) followed by rack of lamb and
crème brûlée, which went nicely with two carafes of house white and red (£11
each). Halfway through our meal, however, a formidable woman appeared and
said: “I need to know what’s happening about these drinks. Will you be
wanting separate bills?” The restaurant went quiet and our fellow diners
looked at us as if we had been planning to do a runner. I told the woman
(quietly) to put the drinks on my bill. Well, really! Bedtime was a
battlefield. Beneath our bedrooms was a noisy kitchen extractor fan that
sounded like an aircraft taking off. But when I telephoned reception at
10.50pm the formidable woman said: “Yes, yes! I am still making up the
restaurant bills!” The fan went off at 11.15pm, but came back on promptly at
7am.
Breakfast was good — scrambled eggs and black pudding with a pot of strong
coffee, but, bizarrely, the same tape of music played all morning in the
public rooms. I shall never listen to In Dulci Jubilo again.
Perhaps we caught the Plough on a bad day, but those flies and that extractor
fan had been there for some time. The food is good and the staff friendly,
but Rene on reception was also barman, TV fixer, head waiter and bringer of
shampoo, so he was run off his feet. My advice would be to eat there, but
not stay the night.
Bottom line: £99 for dinner, bed and breakfast.
What we think: room for improvement.
Best thing: the food.
Worst thing: atttention to detail.
Access all areas: no.
Need to know: The Plough, Bourton Road, Clanfield, Oxfordshire (01367
810222, www.theploughclanfield.co.uk
).
Room: 3 out of 10.
Food: 9 out of 10.
Service: 5 out of 10.
