This wild weekend in Surrey is what adventurous children dream of

Times

27-06-2025

Surrey is not a county you would normally associate with adventure. It is home to several rather mediocre and middle-class towns, such as Guildford, where branches of Bill's and Anthropologie are the most exciting spots, and Woking, with its sky-scraping, ill-advised tower blocks by the station and streets of cake and kebab shops whose black interiors are lit up like nightclubs.
It's a county that's great if you need to go to Waitrose or for a nice walk in the woods — I go often, actually, because my in-laws live there, in a very nice bit of Woking by Horsell Common — but it's hardly holiday material. Certainly not for the sort of trips my family like, which involve whittling knives and middle-of-nowhere vibes, but with somewhere très cool to stay afterwards. For one of these we would normally head for a cabin or cottage in the Lake District, or perhaps to Scotland's west coast or a hidden nook near Dartmoor. The home counties? Not so much.
But maybe I'm wrong, or maybe they're changing, because there is somewhere new to stay just south of Godalming, that ticks all my boxes and more. Tucked away in the quieter part of the Surrey Hills, in the western corner of the county, is Firesyde, a group of five smart cabins surrounded by the sort of wilderness-y-feeling countryside you normally have to drive a whole day to reach, but which here is only 30 miles from central London. The site opened last autumn, but has just become available on the cool accommodation site Kip Hideaways, where I found it.
My two children, partner and I are welcomed at the gates on a sunny Friday evening by a young couple who are working here full time, fresh off the back of doing 13 ski seasons — the last in Japan. While Firesyde is not quite Niseko, they have landed in a very nice spot, living on the 300-acre estate of which the cabins are a part.
Actually Frank Hutley, the owner, doesn't like to call them cabins, he says when he stops by later on. And definitely not glamping, either. 'Ah, not that word!' he says when I drop it during our conversation. These slick gable-roofed constructions are better described as 'nature lodges', he says, and sit somewhere between a hut and a luxurious country hotel. Each has an en suite loo and shower, a kitchenette, electric lights, and even walls, ceilings and a wooden floor. They are far better than a damp bell tent. And as the cost of glamping goes ever upwards, they're not far off being the same cost — from £250 a night.
Inside, an open-plan space of hotel suite proportions sleeps two (an extra single bed can be squeezed in for a child, but we took two lodges). There's rustic shelving and cute little blackboard labels on everything, raffia lampshades and fresh flowers, but then there's also a fridge, plug sockets, a fancy black kettle, cupboards full of really lovely crockery and pans, tins of coffee and various home-mixed herbal teas. There's even a Nespresso machine, though I'm not a fan (you only get a gulp of coffee).
A further suggestion of tent comes from an exterior covering of canvas, and there's a bigger sloped roof erected over the top, creating a decked porch with a fire pit, cushioned chairs and a counter for prepping your fire-cooked venison fillets or whatnot. Slices of homemade lemon and blueberry cake, granola with yoghurt and rhubarb compote plus glass bottles of both oat and cow's milk have been left for us inside.
You don't have to trap your own badger to roast, either — the idea is to give a taste of the outdoor life, but with somewhere to whittle in comfort, plus catering if you want it. It's a luxurious version of Frank's childhood, spent here on his father's estate, Slades Farm, and that of his grandfather next door, Wintershall (he was Peter Hutley OBE, who hosted open-air Christian Passion plays here and in Trafalgar Square). Frank rents a slice from his dad for Firesyde, and lives in one of the cottages neighbouring the site.
'Me, my cousins, my brother and sisters were raised here, and whenever we had a moment we'd be off camping, building dens and making fires,' he says, gesturing to the surrounding fields, which are tucked into a fold he says is known by passing cyclists who enjoy the hilly lane as 'Happy Valley' (not after the TV murder show, I hope).
'We were big Ray Mears fans, very into knots and ropes and sharpening twigs to make our own bows and arrows. My cousin lived on the other side of that brow, and we wanted to dig a tunnel from my home to his home, as eight-year-olds. Ambitious. We got about three metres and realised it was not very realistic.'
That is just the sort of plot hatched from the fired-up imagination of a child left to their own devices (and not those of the electronic sort) to roam free in a splendid bit of nature. Firesyde's intention is to supply the setting for such alchemy to occur, whether you're seven or 37.
It's mainly couples from London who have visited so far, but families are welcome and groups can book out the whole place. That's what we've done — there are only five lodges so it's not hard to fill, although our ragtag crew of friends with children, lively boys who need to run off steam, aren't joining until the next day.
Alone on the first night, we romp through the beautiful wild garden through which a stream runs, just beyond the lodge field and the mini wild spa with sauna. It is a completely magical unshackled jungle of giant gunneras, ferns, purple foxgloves and a weaving stream that ends in an overwater pavilion, all just for us.
The children help to cook over the fire pit: asparagus and chicken we brought with us. They love striking matches and using the heavy iron cooking tools. When I was a tween experimenting with self-taught survival skills I accidentally caused a wildfire that required two fire engines to put out, so I'm very happy for them to learn in this safe setting rather than out in the crisp-dry woods.
As the sun goes down we retreat to another covered porch at the back of the lodge with a deep stone bath looking out into rampant greenery from a low-lit deck. It's my favourite feature, and probably the nicest bath I've ever had. It's a lovely evening but really, Frank says, the site is best in the morning: each lodge is orientated at a slant towards an oak-topped hill over which the sun rises for that reason, as well as to give each porch privacy.
• Seven of the UK's best farm stays for families
My son must have been listening because the next morning here he is, fully dressed with a racquet in hand by my bedside, wanting to play badminton on the lovely big lawn at 5am. I send him back to bed and when he returns at a more godly hour, let him follow the 'how to build a fire' instructions on a handy little flipchart that also contains QR codes linking to directions for local walks. He is beyond thrilled, as eight-year-olds will be, to stack firelighters and logs from the provided piles on the porch shelf, and get things smoking for a rather burnt breakfast.
Frank says that a stay here is all about 'porch life' and doing everything there: cooking, sitting, reading, playing games. I'm all for it. My porch at home is just for foxes to pee on and for us to forget to put the milk bottles out.
When our friends arrive we hit the sauna. It's very small but goes up to an effective 70C, and three of us can just about squeeze in — or, somehow, all six kids, who can't get enough of the (very) cold plunge tub, so keep popping in to warm up.
Over the road is the Winkworth Arboretum, set around an idyllic lake (£16; nationaltrust.org.uk). We take crisps and local beers from the Firesyde honesty shop and sneak in after hours when it's deserted (we are members so no laws broken). The kids run amok, trying to feed crisps to the ducks, while we sit on a bench in the sun.
• 20 of the best family-friendly hotels in the UK
For dinner we make use of another brilliant aspect of this site that sets it apart: the pre-prepped barbecue meal. The lovely staff, who are also chefs, cover a trestle table with gorgeous salads of summer greens and barley; green beans with hazelnuts; whole gem lettuces to roast; platters of rib-eye steak; Lebanese-inspired turmeric chicken; and myriad zingy sauces (£75 for two people).
You can pay a little extra for them to cook the food, which would be wise. We stupidly select the incinerate it yourself option, though it makes for a fun evening, twirling the tongs, rescuing items aflame and eating things in the wrong order (some charred lettuce to finish?) accompanied by snifters from the help-yourself booze table, which resembles a glamorous school raffle, with ice buckets and a chalkboard tally chart to keep tabs.
Within walking distance is the White Horse for a decent pint. Frank's cousin, Sam Fiddian-Green, runs and chefs at the Merry Harriers, a great nearby pub, where we head the next afternoon for excellent bar snacks (radishes with cod's roe, £7.50, hash brown bites with truffle mayo, £5.50). It also has rooms and shepherd's huts to rent, handy if you have a big group (room-only doubles from £120, room-only shepherd's hut from £140; merryharriers.com).
Frank has already bought an extra ten acres to expand into, and is looking to create another Firesyde site down East Sussex or Kent way, though it won't be such a rare beast there as it is in Surrey.
It's unusual to find a proper country experience done so well and stylishly so close to the capital. Even harder to believe that there's a Waitrose, a Specsavers and a Gail's just ten minutes' drive north up the road in Godalming (and a railway station too) — we feel somewhere much further flung.
Most of the time, when not playing badminton, football or a niche form of hockey involving the expensive-looking shepherd's crook walking sticks provided in each lodge (sorry Frank), the Krazy Krew, as the kids call themselves, rampage off into the wild garden and the stream. They come back ages later (I've had three saunas by then) to tell me someone has lost their shoe and that while they were all walking in the stream my son got sucked down into the mud up to his waist but it's OK because they all pulled him out with a stick. And off they go to do it again. I hope grown-up Frank doesn't tell us off when he reads this. Because eight-year-old Frank would surely approve.Gemma Bowes was a guest of Firesyde and Kip Hideaways, which has one night's self-catering for two from £250 (kiphideaways.com)
By Siobhan Grogan
Perhaps surprisingly for a place renowned for golf courses and commuter towns, Surrey is England's most wooded county and offers lots of good walking. One lovely and easy route sets out from the hamlet of Friday Street heading to Leith Hill Tower, the highest point in southeast England, marked by a redbrick tower inside which is a tiny café famous for its sausage rolls, handed out through a serving hatch (nationaltrust.org.uk). Alternatively — and handy for Londoners — take the train to Holmwood, then climb the hill to the village of Coldharbour, home to the cosy Plough pub, and on to Leith Hill. Box Hill, the setting for a picnic in Jane Austen's Emma, the London 2012 cycling road race and much more, can get super busy but only around the main car park by the café. A short walk away on the delightful Juniper Top, a long open slope of a hill, or the overgrown, disused quarry on its south eastern flank, it's much quieter . For a post-walk pint, try the Running Horses in Mickelham or the cute William IV (the 'King Bill on the Hill') at the foot of Mickleham Downs.
Between March and November, the Salt Box hosts a range of wilderness-inspired experiences for small groups in a woodland glen on South Nutfield's Priory Farm Estate. You'll be able to up your own barbecue level after lessons in wild game butchery or cooking over open flames, or there's yoga beneath the trees (from £40; wearethesaltbox.co.uk).
Learn how to identify edible fungi and flowers and source tasty nuts and seeds on foraging courses held near Godalming and Haslemere in the Surrey Hills. Specifics change with the seasons — it's wild garlic in spring — and the two and four-hour classes include snacks and drinks made with the foraged ingredients (adults £30; wildseasonsforaging.co.uk).
An open water swimming facility at the Quays in Mytchett offers early morning and evening sessions in a spring-fed lake as well as paddleboarding, kayaking and wakeboarding. There's a woodfired lakeside sauna too (from £8; quayswim.co.uk).
The village of Peaslake is a centre of mountain biking in the south, with trails through the woods at Holmbury Hill and Pitch Hill; for information see surreyhillsmountainbiking.co.uk.
Hammonds Glamping has ten furnished bell tents sleeping between four and six in the 400-acre National Trust Hatchlands Park. All come with proper beds and a fire pit, and there's a refreshments trailer, games area, playground, communal toilet and an eco-friendly shower block. Dogs are welcome and the pretty village of West Horsley is within walking distance for pubs and shops (two nights' self-catering for four from £300; hammondsglamping.com).
Where are your favourite Surrey spots? Tell us in the comment