Checking in

This can't be right, can it? Driving along the heavily potholed road, sea on one side, gloomy weatherbeaten houses on the other, and the hazy outline of Dungeness nuclear power station behind us, I'm convinced I've taken a wrong turn. But no, there it is - Romney Bay House, an imposing white building with a red roof and the stern, slightly clinical air of a sanatorium.

This severe impression doesn't last. We ring the doorbell and a little border terrier comes yapping to the door. This, and the collection of sun hats, umbrellas and pot plants in the porch, instantly gives the place a homely feel. Built in the 1920s for American actress and gossip columnist Hedda Hopper by Sir Clough Williams-Ellis (the architect who designed Portmeirion village in Wales), it was bought by Lisa and Clinton Lovell six years ago and converted into a 10-bedroom hotel.

Lisa gives us a quick tour: honesty bar, pretty drawing room, first-floor lounge with shelves of books and a telescope for gazing out to sea. Our room, number eight, has a bit of an Out of Africa theme - mosquito net over the bed, leopard-skin cushions, pictures of lions - and huge windows looking onto the garden and the Channel beyond. Drinks will be served at 7.30pm in the lounge, says Lisa.

The dining arrangements - everyone sits down at the same time for a four-course set menu (tell them in advance if there's anything you don't eat) - and the size of the hotel give it a house-party feel. Though, being British, none of us actually talks to the other guests over pre-dinner drinks.

Lisa serves and Clinton cooks: a delicate starter of hot smoked salmon and avocado, followed by juicy loin of Romney Marsh lamb and a meringue-type dessert with apple ice-cream - and no, we couldn't possibly manage the cheeseboard. Oh go on then, if you insist. Clinton is clearly passionate about food - he used to run a successful restaurant and now smokes his own fish in a woodshed at the back. The couple live on the premises with their young family giving this the feel of a home rather than a hotel - none of the bedrooms has a lock on the door and there are plenty of knick-knacks and soft toys that wouldn't see the light of day in a boutique hotel.

Next morning we go for a bracing walk on the Dungeness peninsula. Dominated by the humming hulk of the power station, this shingle spit is home to an odd assortment of fishermen and artists. We pick our way between the rotting hulls of boats, coils of ropes and derelict huts and laugh as the silence of this bleak and otherworldly landscape is suddenly broken by the friendly tootling of a little steam train that chuffs past, seemingly on its way to nowhere.

We liked: the views, the food, the splendid isolation

We didn't like: Littlestone is pretty forlorn

The verdict: a bit odd, but I liked it

Rates: doubles from £90, with breakfast