The Best Places in the United Kingdom

A working whisky distillery that also happens to have six rooms, on a 14-mile island off Skye reached by ferry and a short walk from the pier. Each room in the converted Factor's House comes with a bottle of Raasay's own whisky, views across to Skye, and a breakfast room whose stone feature wall doubles as a geology lesson, fossils included, for guests who look closely enough. Distillery tours run through the full process and end with a tasting.

Loch Linnhe sits right outside the window, which does make it hard to complain about much else. This small country-house hotel in the tiny hamlet of Port Appin has eleven individually decorated rooms with wood furnishings and floral wallpaper, a kitchen leaning on local Scottish produce, and afternoon tea in the lounge. The surrounding Highlands do the heavy lifting scenery-wise, and the hotel is quietly content to let them.

The bar at this Speyside hotel stocks around 750 whiskies, which tells you most of what you need to know about the neighborhood. Dowans is a country hotel sitting among more than fifty distilleries, some close enough to walk to after a dram or two. The kitchen sources its meat and fish from within a short drive, afternoon tea runs daily, and the Mbar keeps a fire going for nightcaps. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels.

Two Inverlochy Castles stand near Fort William, one a 13th-century ruin up the road, and one a Victorian castle hotel where you can actually sleep. The rooms are enormous because nobody ever carved them into modern-sized boxes, and the days still run on the old rhythm: fishing and shooting until dusk, then a lavish dinner in one of two dining rooms. The plumbing has been modernized; almost everything else has not, which turns out to be the point.

A private island hotel on the western coast of Scotland, reached by its own bridge rather than a seaplane or a speedboat. Nine holes of golf suggest the mood here: unhurried, old-fashioned in the right ways, with a fireplace in the lounge and antiques in the corridors. The outlying suites and cottages outrun the main house on space and quiet, and the landscape beyond the windows is about as unspoiled as Scotland gets.

A hire property on the River Bann in County Antrim, Moore Lodge takes the whole-house model seriously: eight ensuite bedrooms in the main house, three converted stable cottages for bigger parties, and a River View Orangery for private dinners that look straight onto the water. Between sessions there's a withdrawing room with an open fire, a snug with a wood stove, and a Thermal Terrace running a hot tub, sauna, and bathhouse.

Built from stone, slate, and timber salvaged from the estate's old farm buildings, The Tempus manages to look like it has always been there without actually being old. It's a 52-room country house hotel on a historic Northumberland estate, an hour from Newcastle, with beamed ceilings and stone fireplaces paired against leopard print and florals. The Orangery does classic British cooking and Sunday roasts; a proper tipi handles wood-fired pizza when the mood is less formal.

A private cove on the Irish Sea sits just steps from the front door, which tells you immediately what kind of place this is: a ten-room lodge on the remote Scottish west coast where the whole point is disappearing properly. The interiors run contemporary-classic, heavy on the classic, and one suite is named for Churchill, who once stayed here. A kitchen garden supplies a fine-dining restaurant doing four courses at lunch and seven at dinner.

A sleek boutique hotel in a Victorian port town that built its reputation on being a jumping-off point for the Hebrides rather than a destination. The Perle leans into both sides of that tension: rooms are contemporary with a nod to Highland roughness, the bathrooms have high-pressure rain showers, and there's a spa named for the Scots Gaelic word for sea. The Oban Brasserie and LULU Lounge handle food and cocktails when the scenery has done enough work.

Five hundred varieties of whisky behind the bar is a strong opening argument for any hotel, and the owners built this one after careers in the trade, so the selection is personal, not decorative. The Station Hotel is a handsome 15-room property in Speyside whisky country, with rooms that run from well-appointed singles to suites named for famous distillers, all Hypnos beds and spa-grade bathrooms. Two restaurants and the Spirit Safe bar mean you rarely need to leave.

The draw here is the Machrie Links, a windswept old course on Islay that golfers treat as a kind of pilgrimage. The hotel wraps around that obsession without being consumed by it: rooms are quietly luxurious, the spa is extensive, and the restaurant looks out over the sea with locally sourced food that suits the surroundings. Non-golfers find plenty of excuse to stay, mostly involving dramatic Hebridean scenery and not leaving the spa.

A converted Victorian station hotel sitting a short walk from Royal Dornoch Golf Club, which is almost certainly why you've found it. Inside, grand staircases and wainscoting set a properly baronial tone, stag's heads survey the scene without irony, and self-aware tartan accents keep things from tipping into theme-park Highlands. It's the kind of place that makes a cold, windswept round feel like a reasonable life choice.

Royal Portrush's fourth fairway runs past the window, which sets the tone: this woodland hotel takes golf seriously, with club storage, a putting green, and transfers to the course sorted before you ask. Nine acres of ancient forest shape everything else, from the wood-furnished, forest-hued rooms to a spa using locally gathered ingredients. The Vault downstairs stocks small-batch Bushmills whiskeys for guests who know what they're after.

Steps from Royal Portrush Golf Club on the Northern Irish coast, this old-school hotel has been around forever and wears it well: tartan fabrics, dark wood, maritime paintings, and a deep green and blue palette that nods to the Atlantic outside. The Red Sail Room, a bar and restaurant inside, goes velvet banquettes and glowing lamps, which is a different mood entirely. Retro bicycles are on hand for anyone who didn't come just to golf.

The dining room is polished enough that you'd almost forget you're here for pizza, which is precisely the point. This Southwark pizzeria brings Neapolitan tradition to London with a tidier, more considered setting than the usual slice-and-go, the kind of room where the dough is still the star but it arrives in surroundings that take themselves slightly more seriously. A second London location shares the same formula.

The dough here leans Neapolitan but doesn't prostrate itself at the altar of tradition, which is probably why this Peckham Rye pizzeria has carved out its own personality rather than just cosplaying Naples. The menu moves with the seasons, the crust is soft and handled well, and the whole room runs warm and informal in the way a good pizzeria should. It's on the 50 Top Pizza Europe list, and the Shoreditch outpost draws the same crowd.

Long-fermented dough is the whole argument at this Neapolitan-style pizzeria tucked into a quiet Bournemouth suburb. The room is warm without trying too hard, and the menu splits neatly between the classics and slightly more loaded options, so nobody at the table needs to negotiate. Consistency is clearly the point here, and 50 Top Pizza Europe named it among the continent's excellent pizzerias. Southbourne locals have quietly figured this out.

A no-frills Neapolitan pizzeria tucked into a quiet stretch of SW16, the kind of spot where the room gives you nothing to look at except your pizza, which turns out to be the point. Sharing plates and small bites fill out the table while you wait, and people do travel for it, which says something about the dough. Named on 50 Top Pizza Europe's list of Excellent Pizzerias, it wears the honour lightly, just like the place itself.

Neapolitan-style pizza in the middle of York, where the dough is the whole argument, light and properly developed in a way that makes toppings feel like they were always meant to be there. Cresci is a casual pizza restaurant that shifts between classics and more contemporary combinations without losing its footing. The room is informal but not accidental, comfortable for a quick slice or a slower dinner.

A pizza spot inside a Mayfair pub, which is already doing something mildly subversive for the postcode. Crisp W1 sits within the Marlborough and keeps the formula that works elsewhere: good pizza, a lively room, and a mix of reservations and walk-ins so you're not locked out if planning isn't your thing. The crowd skews younger than the neighborhood usually tolerates, and nobody is pretending the food is precious. Casual, metropolitan, and not fussed about its surroundings.

The dough is the whole argument here, kept light enough that a full pizza doesn't feel like a dare. DoppioZero is a casual Neapolitan-style pizza spot in Finsbury Park with the informal energy of somewhere that opened last year and already knows what it's doing. The fried starters round out the menu in the way they're supposed to, without trying too hard. Young crowd, loud enough to feel alive, not so loud you need subtitles.

Sourdough pizza in a relaxed Warwick spot that leans more weekend-in-the-pub than Naples-by-the-book, and that's entirely the point. Dough & Brew is a casual pizzeria with a convivial streak, where the dough gets serious attention and the atmosphere stays loose. It doesn't chase the Neapolitan tradition; it runs its own Anglo-modern formula instead, which 50 Top Pizza Europe has noted among its excellent pizzerias.

The dining room occupies Sir George Gilbert Scott's vaulted Gothic Revival interior at St Pancras, which sets an unfair standard for anywhere else you might eat a steak this week. This is a British steakhouse with a serious beef programme built on dry-ageing and live-fire charcoal, and the cooking doesn't try to match the architecture with drama. It ranked 13th on the World's Best Steak Restaurants list. The martini bar is a good place to start or finish.

A pizza restaurant on High Street where the dough is the whole argument, balanced and consistent in a way that takes some discipline to pull off. The room is urban and informal, the kind of place you eat well without ceremony. The menu moves between classic and more contemporary combinations without making a fuss about either. Listed among 50 Top Pizza Europe's Excellent Pizzerias, which is the sort of thing Mancunians will politely ignore until they've tried it themselves.

A neighborhood pizza spot on Newington Green that doesn't try too hard, which is precisely why it works. The menu moves between classic Italian pies and more unexpected combinations, and the room keeps things informal without sliding into shabby. Service checks in without hovering. The kind of place Islington residents probably pretend they haven't told anyone about, then tell everyone about.

Wood-fired ovens built in Naples, ingredients shipped from Italy, and dough that's been quietly fermenting for over 48 hours before it gets anywhere near your table. Paesano is a Neapolitan pizza shop done with real conviction, spread across three Glasgow locations, with an industrial room, open kitchen, and trattoria tables packed shoulder-to-shoulder. No reservations, so a queue is part of the deal, though the operation moves fast enough that you'll barely notice.

Neapolitan dough with a Spanish accent, long-fermented and cooked at a pizzeria that seems genuinely unbothered by what a pizzeria is supposed to be. The menu drifts happily into tapas and fried things, all of it built for sharing rather than eating efficiently and leaving. Two locations now, started in Leytonstone, and the energy in the room matches the cooking: informal, loud in a good way, and not trying to impress anyone in particular.

A Neapolitan pizza joint on Lavender Hill that doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is, which is the whole point. The dough, the char, the generous hand with toppings all trace back to a Naples family recipe that's been around forever. No tasting menus, no mood lighting, just a proper pizzeria operating on the logic that if you know what you're doing, you don't need to dress it up.

The dough sits for up to 60 hours before it sees the oven, which tells you most of what you need to know about Razzo. It's a small Neapolitan pizza restaurant near Leith, serious about its flour, its fresh yeast, its imported tomatoes and anchovies, and not much else. The room is simple, every table in plain view, Italian music in the background. Book ahead on weekends, and consider bringing a bottle.

A Battersea pizzeria where the dough is treated as a statement rather than an afterthought, light and carefully finished in a way that politely asks you to pay attention. The room is orderly and calm, more candlelit-date than checkered-tablecloth, and the whole thing is pitched at people who want the craft spelled out without the fuss. Neapolitan tradition run through a precise, contemporary sensibility.

A Neapolitan pizza shop on the fourth floor of a shopping centre, which sounds like a setup for disappointment but isn't. The dough ferments for 24 hours and comes out of a 500-degree oven with proper char and plenty of tomato. Classics share the menu with weekend specials that lean into curious combinations. Spritz cocktails, a short wine list, and a relaxed room that fills with tourists and locals who didn't plan too hard.

The name is a promise: narrow Neapolitan streets, and the sense that someone's nonna is expecting you. This Stoke Newington pizzeria keeps its focus on dough, heat, and a short list of things done right, with classics sitting alongside a few more personal recipes. Nothing here is trying to be a postcard of Naples; it's more like a habit for the people who live nearby, which is the better thing to be.

Pizza by the slice in Bournemouth, which is either a bold move or a quietly confident one, possibly both. Vicolo keeps things rooted in classic Neapolitan territory, no foam, no twists, no manifesto on the wall, just a short menu of traditional pies and a few richer variations done without fuss. The room is small and unhurried, the kind of place where nobody's rushing you out. It earned a spot on 50 Top Pizza Europe's Excellent Pizzerias list.

Long-fermented dough is the quiet argument at this Neapolitan pizza spot in Ealing, where lightness is the point and showmanship is decidedly not. The room leans into warm Italian-trattoria comfort, the kind that makes a Tuesday feel like a reasonable night for a long dinner. It works equally well for a relaxed catch-up or something slightly more date-shaped, which is more than most pizza places can honestly claim.

Flute is the rooftop cocktail bar at Broadwick Soho, where someone clearly signed off on an unlimited budget for pink cushions. Expect velvet everywhere, fruity cocktails that can climb to £40, and a wraparound terrace built for staring wistfully at the London skyline while a friend takes the photo. It's a dress-up, spend-a-bit kind of place, and The Infatuation has ranked it among the city's best bars.

The Painter's Room is a small cocktail bar tucked inside Claridge's, done up in the sort of pink shell and stained glass that makes your own flat feel like a storage unit. Expect champagne-forward drinks at Mayfair prices, around £22 for the priciest, ordered by people dressed for a premiere they may or may not be attending. It's the kind of room where a first date either gets engaged or gets the bill.

BBQ Xiang is a tiny Cantonese roast meat and noodle shop on Caroline Street, the stretch locals call Chippy Alley or Chippy Lane depending on their loyalties. Neon lights and a waving lucky cat watch over a room so cramped that getting to your seat counts as a contact sport. Students and post-pub stragglers come for lacquered duck, char siu, and a bowl of noodle soup, all cheap, fast, and served over Cantopop ballads.

Crown Kitchen is a family-run Chinese restaurant in Cathays with a menu roughly the size of a catalogue, which is why regulars message ahead on WeChat to see what's actually available. The room is round tables with lazy Susans, lanterns, and a cloud-tiled ceiling that nobody's here to admire. Come hungry, order far too much, and expect complimentary watermelon at the end. The Infatuation put it on its list of Cardiff's 13 best restaurants.

Hatsu Udon is a no-frills udon canteen in Grangetown, where the kitchen faces a counter built for solo lunches and nobody is lingering over wine. The noodles are handmade, soft and springy, and the tempura prawn keeps its crunch even after a dunk in the broth, which feels like a minor loophole in physics. Homesick Hongkongers, students, and locals share the room, and the tomato beef udon is a comfort bowl for all of them.

Ichiban is a casual Japanese spot on Albany Road in Roath, and its menu runs past 170 items, which is how it keeps groups with opposing food opinions from splitting up. Sushi sits beside stir-fries, soups, and fried things, and the teishoku tray puts beef, sashimi, rolls, rice, and miso on one table. Kirin is the obvious drink. It's been around forever, and takeaway and delivery run like a well-oiled machine.

Le Magritte is the cocktail bar at The Beaumont hotel in Mayfair, reached through a chequerboard lobby, where a bartender in a white jacket stands before a golden art deco bar. The short menu runs from frothy and flirty to stiff and grown-up, though the Gatsby-adjacent room mostly invites a classic. Expect cashmere, Mayfair money, and the odd jet-lagged guest quietly steadying themselves with an Old Fashioned.

Longa is a Turkish breakfast café in Heath where the plan is always a quick bite and the morning disappears anyway. The menemen arrives bubbling in a copper pan with a basket of warm sesame simit for scooping. The room is bright and mismatched, with a shelf of Istanbul travel books and Turkish Mr Men at the back. Weekends mean dogs, prams, and people hovering over your table, so settle in and order another tea.

This casual ramen shop in Grangetown sits in a former bank, which means the only thing being withdrawn here is a bowl of tonkotsu. It started as lockdown noodle kits sold by a guy from the music industry, and the handmade noodles still carry that cult-following springiness. High ceilings, plants, and long wooden benches handle solo lunches and group dinners with equal calm.

Mesen is a wood-fire restaurant in leafy Rhiwbina, named for the Welsh word for acorn, with no gas anywhere in the kitchen, so everything gets cooked over flame and smoke. The blackboard menu changes weekly and leans on Welsh produce. Weekends fill with date nights and tables of friends arm-wrestling over tomahawks, and a dive bar out back stays loose enough to pour a WKD spritz.

Milkwood is a Pontcanna bakery and cafe where upstairs feels like a friend's living room, with a fireplace, big windows, and wood floors, and downstairs has a small terrace for the street. Brunch leans Welsh, so expect cockles on toast and warm bara brith. Weekend queues run long, which is how a quick breakfast turns into an afternoon with a book. Weekend evenings bring wine and pizza, for the committed.

Nagare is a Spitalfields coffee shop that treats a flat white like a small ceremony. The dark wood chairs look antique in a way that took some planning, and the milky white La Marzocco sits behind the counter like a piece of kitchen design you'll be quietly coveting by the second sip. Beans can come from a small-batch roaster in Hong Kong, and the menu covers iced, milky, filter, and drip. Expect a quick coffee and a very photogenic pause.