Geordie Esther Beadle goes back to her roots and has a reet posh time at two classy hotels

Nothing is a greater break away than being welcomed into the comforting bosom of home and your mother’s arms.

Except perhaps being welcomed into your mother’s arms at a luxury castle a few miles down the road.

That’s exactly what came about when I enjoyed a glorious homecoming weekend in County Durham.

Meeting my mum on the corner of a street in Durham for a couple of night’s mother-daughter time, we headed to the warm, if wonderfully bizarre, Lumley Castle.

Mention you’re stopping there to anyone in the North-East and they’ll follow up with an impressed “ooooh, that’s fancy”.

The medieval castle’s blood-red walls are lovingly festooned with a mix of antique curiosities and ramshackle charity shop tat. It’s like your nana’s dining room, only heaving with happy locals delighting in a wedding or similar “big do”. It’s happy, it’s comforting and it’s, well, a bit fancy, a perfect opportunity to treat my mum to something homely and quite memorable.

For instance, when in the morning I left half of my full English breakfast, my plate was taken away by a personally affronted matriarch of a duty manager.

She quizzed me intricately on exactly what was wrong with what and seemed personally offended that although the sausage was lovely, and local, the egg was a bit dry. I found myself apologising and almost wanted to promise that yes, I’d eat all my dinner and no, I wouldn’t sneak any sweets between.

Dinner the night before hadn’t been a problem at all. was beautiful high-end cuisine, all locally sourced and lashings of wine. During a tour of the castle, our affronted matriarch tells us of its grand medieval origins, stating proudly that it was built in the 13th century, at the “same time as the Tyne Bridge”.

I thought the bridge was started in 1925, but it was comforting that she shared my mother’s tendency for over exaggeration.

Bedding down was the perfect example how mums love a good drama. As all 4ft 10ins of my mum panicked that her heels weren’t high enough getting ready, I sat back and made my way through the wonderful wine and chocolates that had welcomed us into our stunning twin room. I don’t get that at home.

Sleeping was another thing. My mum, fraught with tales that the Australian cricket team were so spooked during their stay for the Ashes that Shane Warne had to sleep on someone else’s floor, was convinced she’d been visited by some spectre in the night. A tingling bell, which to be fair I heard myself, and a gust of cold wind had her convinced enough to talk about nothing else during the next day’s shopping spree.

Lumley Castle, surrounded by golf courses and looking directly over the Riverside cricket ground, costs between £10 and £20 to Durham in a taxi.

Durham is a beautiful city. Its stunning castle and cathedral dominate the horizon. They look over a haven of winding alleys and tiny boutique shops standing shoulder to shoulder with the bigger brands.

And you’ll never get customer service like it anywhere else. A trip into Monsoon resulted in friendly banter with the assistant about a shared love of tiny dogs. A stop off at a mobile phone shop (mums don’t know how to relax and not run messages, even on holiday) left us giggling all the way out the store.

We stopped for lunch at Oldfield’s, a gorgeous little restaurant a short walk from the main shopping streets of the city.

Sitting down to a beautiful roast, strengthened by the impressive locally sourced produce, mum and I turned into real home mode, demanding that staff tell us the chef’s secrets to the best Sunday veg we had ever tasted.

The second night was spent at the fabulous boutique in, the Lambton Worm, just a stone’s throw from nearby town Chester-le-Street, but don’t go there. My dad’s from near there. It’s a bit... well... dodgy.

The Lambton Worm, however, is delightful – newly revamped, the rooms are petite, but airy and modern.

Oxford Mail:
The exterior of Lumley Castle

As I lugged my bag upstairs it emerged the duty manager had been in my drama teacher dad’s class at school. But it wasn’t that that made it feel like home.

It was more the delicious mushroom risotto I had for dinner, the excellent selection of brewery tap ales at the bar and the down to earth conversation with the staff as hours were wiled away with stories and easy chat.

The inn is named after an old North-East song my dad would sing to me. Its chorus implores folk to shut up and listen to the tune, which is about a huge worm that eats people. But if anything’s going to make you stop, be quiet and sit-up, it’s the County Durham landscape.

It became apparent the Lambton Worm is in the perfect spot to get away from the bustle, without going too far. Just five minutes away and you’re onto a bridle path that can take you all around the stunning local countryside. The land round there is rough and beaten. The sky is huge and crisp and white. Coal smoke from house chimneys scratches your nose and there’s nothing finer than the region’s fresh, stark wilderness of pit villages and gorse-lined tracks.

If that isn’t for you, then the Lambton Worm is also perfectly placed on the best Newcastle to Durham bus route you could ask for. Hop on for a couple of quid and you’ll whizz through hardy North-East villages, pass the Angel of the North and wing your way to Newcastle.

And that to me, a born and raised Geordie, was the best route home I could ask for. Even though I didn’t really want to leave.

Essentials

* Direct trains run between Oxford and Durham on Cross Country.
* A mid-week retreat at Lumley Castle, including dinner, bed and breakfast, from £87.50 per person.
Call 0191 389 1111 lumleycastle.com
* Rooms at The Lambton Worm, in Chester-le-Street, start at £50 a night, including breakfast.
Call 0191 387 1162 thelambton.com
Oldfieldseatinghouse.com