Manoir de Kertalg ★★★★

Set amongst the age-old trees of an ancient forest lies the majestic French manor belonging to the Kertlag estate, which was founded with the construction of the Château de Guilly, built on a feudal mound in the 17th century. Getting to the hotel is a little like a journeying through a fairytale wood to get to the Princess' castle, as little rabbits dart out of your way and the dappled sunlight plays overhead, beckoning you on. Upon arriving, I breathe a sigh of relief; it is exactly what my over-active romantic imagination had in mind. Elegant walls of roughly cut granite, sloping slate roofs and immaculate gardens that nevertheless retain their slightly wild, wilful way, to complete a picture of historical, rustic enchantment. I am duly enchanted and swiftly enter the hotel, eager to see if the inside lives up to its exterior. It does so and surpasses my anticipation, for not only does it retain its old-world, classic charisma, but it also has a colourful brightness that belies the gloomy tendencies of other similar establishments. The warm, lively yellows and dusky deep pinks mimic the flowers outside the wide windows and lend a joyful, feminine touch to the dignified and slightly imposing architecture, doing nothing to dispel the idea of a fairytale castle. Neither do the dreamy, surrealist paintings of the local artist, Brann, that adorn the walls with their motifs of magical landscapes and unicorn, winged lions. He is clearly inspired by his mythical surroundings and I am left with the strong impression I am somewhere very special.

The bedroom is no less entrancing and I am only reminded of what century we are in by the high-spec amenities now essential in any 4-star hotel. These include cosy heating, bathroom with bathtub, Wi-Fi and flat screen television with DVD player. Having previously prepared myself for the large amount of walking I wished to do in order to take in as much of my marvellous surroundings as I could, I greatly relish the idea of coming back to soak in a hot bath and wash away the aches of the day. Despite my best intentions to get started on my tourist activities right away, the gardens outside my luminous window look so inviting I can't resist stepping back out into them and wandering amongst the bougainvillea and lush green lawns, down crumbling little stone steps and finally resting in the shade of an apple tree to read my book. It is a moment of pure tranquillity and delicious rest. Precisely what I needed after the incessant buzz of the city, a world that seems lifetimes away here in this lost corner of the universe.

The rest of the afternoon passes lazily by and in the evening I follow the helpful advice of the hotel staff and go out to dine at the La P'tite Gargotte in the nearby village of Moëlan sur Mer. Its unpretentious, cosy atmosphere and beautifully cooked yet simple food captivate me and my stomach. In fact, unable to decide between the organic beef steak and the salmon mille-feuille I opt for the first that evening and then return for lunch in their garden the following day to try the other. Both are exquisite, as is their 'Un beau jeune homme' (a handsome young man) for pudding – no, not literally! It is just a very French, classic, rich and chocolaty dessert, well worth tasting!

There are many little culinary gems to be discovered in the area and many picturesque seaside villages to explore in the process, not least the Pont-Aven made famous by Post-Impressionist artists Émile Bernard and Paul Gaugin, who fell in love with it. I can easily see why they did and am once again reminded of Cornwall with its incandescent light that drew so many great painters to try and capture it. Here that same radiance fills the air; I imagine it is the millions of microscopic drops of the Atlantic Ocean, which cast their salty spell on all we see. My days pass in a spellbound daze and all too soon it is time to return to a different reality. Yet I take with me the healthy glow of long walks in the surrounding forest and a reviving dose of crystal clean sea air, as well as all the relaxed smugness of a pampered cat after a weekend in the hands of Le Manoir Kertlaig.