Luxury Holiday Cottages in Yorkshire England

Cottages. Lodges & Apartments
Over 140,000 properties
From romantic little hideaways to glorioius seasides or rolling hills
From 1 to 10 bedrooms
MOST WITH HOT TUBS!
Theres one just right for you

They make PROPER tea in Yorkshire - True

There is a particular kind of quiet that only exists in a Yorkshire valley. It is a deep, ancient silence, occasionally interrupted by the indignant bleat of a sheep that has realised the grass is actually no greener on the other side of the stone wall. I am currently sitting in a luxury cottage that is far more sophisticated than my actual home, clutching a mug of tea and wondering if I can justify staying in this velvet armchair for the next three days.

We are nestled somewhere between the Howardian Hills and the North York Moors, in a barn conversion so impeccably designed that I feel a bit like an intruder in a high-end interior design magazine. There is a wood-burning stove that I have spent forty minutes trying to light, my city-dwelling hubris meeting its match in a damp log and a welcome hamper filled with local cheeses that I am fairly certain will be my primary food source for the duration of the trip.

But Yorkshire demands you actually step outside. It is the sort of place that makes you feel slightly guilty for being sedentary. Yesterday, we braved the cobbled incline of Whitby. There is something endlessly charming about a town that manages to balance its Goth heritage with the country's best fish and chips. Standing at the top of the 199 steps, breathless and slightly wind-swept, I looked out over the harbour and understood why Bram Stoker found it so atmospheric. It is rugged and unapologetic. Of course, the atmospheric tension was somewhat undercut by a seagull that successfully executed a tactical heist on my husband’s battered sausage, but that is part of the authentic seaside experience.

If Whitby is the wilder cousin, York is the refined matriarch. A stroll through The Shambles makes you feel like you have accidentally wandered onto a film set. The medieval buildings lean toward each other as if sharing a secret, and the Minster remains a staggering feat of human ambition. We spent a good hour just watching the light hit the stained glass, feeling very small and remarkably peaceful.

For those of us who prefer our history with a side of greenery, Fountains Abbey is essential. The ruins are hauntingly beautiful, though I spent most of the walk reflecting on the fact that the Cistercian monks had a significantly better view than I do. The Studley Royal Water Garden next door is a masterclass in 18th-century "taming" of nature, featuring statues and temples that feel delightfully eccentric in the middle of the English countryside.

Back at the cottage, the evening ritual involves the outdoor hot tub. There is something undeniably surreal about soaking in 40°C water while looking out at a horizon of dark, brooding hills as the temperature drops. It is the ultimate Yorkshire contrast: the harsh, wind-battered landscape viewed from a position of absolute, pampered warmth.

I’ve realised that a holiday here isn’t about ticking boxes. It’s about the slow pace. It’s about finding a tiny pub in a village like Goathland, where the fire is roaring, and the landlord knows everyone’s name, and realising you haven’t checked your phone in four hours. It’s about the "God’s Own Country" pride that radiates from the locals, which you quickly realise isn't arrogance, it’s just a statement of fact. Tomorrow, we might try a bit of the Cleveland Way, or perhaps we’ll just head to Malton to see if the "food capital" title holds up. But for now, the fire is finally crackling, and there is still half a wheel of Wensleydale left. I think I’ll stay put.