The Hidden Gem
A day and a night in Port Sunlight
The ‘hidden’ nature of Port Sunlight isn’t a result of it being remote or otherwise hard to reach - it is a simple two train-rides from me on the other side of the Mersey. Nor is it an obscure place - at the time my partner and I arrived there (a very wet Sunday lunchtime in September) the area around its station was busy with visitors. When I heard a man at the station call the village ‘a hidden gem’ I instinctively agreed without knowing specifically why.
I think I do now know what gives it this feel for me - it is a quietly cared-about place. My first sense of this came from the case of donated books in the station foyer, flanked by plant pots spilling over with growth.
As well as reading material, the immediate vicinity of the station is unusually well-provided with a post office and inviting cafe The Tudor Rose (though not with still-functioning red phone boxes).
We arrived at lunchtime when other visitors were heading out of the rain and into the cafe, but our walk was just starting. We were mostly unfamiliar with the village but it was made to be walked through so took us easily down into its central greenspace, The Dell. This was the village’s own hidden gem, a lush and secluded breathing space below the surrounding streets.
What gave it seclusion were the many and varied trees filling the spaces between paths and growing through the low brownstone walls - some of a mighty size suggesting greater age than the village itself, others slender and planted this century as memorials.
Returning to street level, we passed along avenues of Grade-II-listed buildings continuing to be used for their original purpose - as homes. Outside many were individual touches of everyday occupation - wellies, kids’ bikes, mini glasshouses full of greenery, clothes-horses.
At one of these we asked directions to the hotel we’d be staying at; by then The Tudor Rose was closed, the rain getting through our early-autumn clothes and we were hungry for lunch. The hotel lay at the far end of a dual-carriageway just past the village, made easy to get over by several pedestrian crossings along its length.
Our stay was enabled by taking up a very helpful partnership-offer from carers’ charity Carefree, the local council and participating hotel of an overnight stay with breakfast. Once there we were able to check in early and received a free upgrade. Next door, an Aldi provided foraging-ground for lunch and dinner.
Later that afternoon we made the most of a break in the rain to explore other parts of Port Sunlight’s 130 acres of parkland. There was a more modern feel to the place we came to; as secluded as The Dell among stands of mature trees (many living in symbiosis with colonies of fungi near their bases), with the difference of a few small disused historic buildings and a sensory garden in the centre of a play area.
Being a bigger, more open space there was more footfall here than in the central Dell, especially at the sunny end of a rain-filled day. Dogs and their humans criss-crossed at their own paces, interspersed with people to-ing and fro-ing from the surrounding estates at faster rates. On one path I exchanged silent-touch greetings with an elderly retriever before we continued on our ways.
We stayed out until sundown. Next day was glowing, no sign of yesterday’s rain on the village’s brownstone paving. This time we left the hotel and explored separately; after breakfast for me, after a lie-in for my partner though we ended up doing the same things - walking without purpose or direction, then having a farewell sit in The Dell.
We didn’t feel like a cafe lunch that day. The Tudor Rose will be for next time.